this is ultimately an album designed for visceral rather than intellectual pleasure
Dirty Pretty Things – Waterloo to Anywhere
this is ultimately an album designed for visceral rather than intellectual pleasure
Dirty Pretty Things – Waterloo to Anywhere
Let’s start this by getting a couple of things out of the way and done with – yes, Dirty Pretty Things’ debut sounds broadly similar to The Libertines. And no; Waterloo to Anywhere is not as good as that band when they were at their best. These may not seem particularly elucidated statements but it’s important to put this behind us before we get underway properly, because tempting though it may be to categorise Carl Barat’s new band as simply an offshoot of The Libertines – a shallow effort to keep spinning an old trick – this is not the case. Instead Dirty Pretty Things are setting out to establish themselves as an independent entity from that band, and this album is not at all a bad way of doing that.
The reason that against all odds Dirty Pretty Things might just eventually be able to shake off the shadow of their predecessor is that while the format may not have altered greatly, there is a distinct difference in the actual sound of the songs – whereas The Libertines were often brittle and wispy, their music put together in the most haphazard fashion, Waterloo To Anywhere has a much stronger, more strident sound and, crucially, a far more polished one. Ironically the first single to be released off this album, Bang Bang You’re Dead, is the closest relation to Barat’s previous work – the guitar solo in particular smacks of something left over from the sessions for The Libertines. But while Bang Bang You’re Dead may have given a worrying first impression that Dirty Pretty Things were going to be a chip off the old Camden Town block, in actually turns out to be a pointer for what makes the album so enjoyable – it’s bloomin’ good fun. There may not be a tremendous amount of artistry or lyrical intelligence behind the song but it still crashes and bashes through its three minutes with a real verve.
The Libertines might have been capable of creating enormous amounts of energy (especially live) but they were often hamstrung by wilfully aimless production values – here all the stops are pulled out to ensure that Bang Bang You’re Dead (together with everything else on the album) can really reach its potential. It makes a big difference. Deadwood, the forthcoming second single, is perhaps the most representative track on the record: fast-paced, noisy and truly thrilling in the best ’70s punk tradition; and as the album’s opener it really sets the tone for what follows. Waterloo to Anywhere is an LP fuelled on adrenaline, constantly coming on in a rush and barely pausing for breath. There’s no experimental tracks, no "obligatory" acoustic ballads and only one filler (the faintly moronic onslaught of If You Love a Woman, which is a B-side on a good day). It makes for far more consistently compelling listening that The Libertines’ records ever did, even if the quality can’t reach the standards set by songs like Time for Heroes.
Right, that’s the Libertines comparisons over with.
Following on from Deadwood, the rest of the album continues at a break-neck speed which is both its greatest asset and its biggest failing. The problem is that over the course of half an hour the excitement that these songs can generate inevitably starts to fade, and unfortunately reveals that, on the basis of this release at least, Dirty Pretty Things are a bit of a one trick pony. A damn good trick, granted, but the repertoire does start to meld into one before the album is over, with the unfortunate effect that individually excellent tracks such as Wondering lose their edge when placed as part of this set. The variation in the songs is frankly insufficient regardless of how good they are, and unfortunately it’s difficult not to attribute this to Barat’s limitations as a songwriter. The tracks bump and grind in the most enjoyable fashion, but it would certainly be nice to see a bit more imagination going into proceedings. Waterloo to Anywhere‘s other sore point (or not, depending on your point of view) is its lyrical content. The entire album seems, perhaps inevitably, to be about Pete Doherty. That’s perfectly understandable of course – the very public deterioration of a close friend is a natural topic for Barat’s writing – but it has the unfortunate side-effect of making the lyrics rather one track and at times even cliched.
After all there are enough rubbish bands knocking about London’s trendier areas harping on about taking cocaine in the pub toilets right now, and even if Barat’s words do have a very cynical bent to them they still smack (no pun intended) of a set of rather unhealthy "life of a rock star" tales. By now the fare is rather standard, even if Barat does manage to spit plenty of his lyrics out with sufficient vitriol to make them at least slightly intriguing (in particular see album highlight Gin and Milk‘s refrain of "no one gives two fucks about the things that I would die for"). Of course, I doubt even Barat would claim that the lyrics are the record’s main attraction – it might be a darker set of songs than your average party album, but the vim and vigour of the delivery ensures that almost every track here is destined for the disco floor, and this is ultimately an album designed for visceral rather than intellectual pleasure. In this Waterloo to Anywhere succeeds admirably.
One question that this record sort of answers is which of The Libertines’ two leaders is the greater talent. Admittedly Doherty’s recent state means that the Babyshambles record is hardly a fair indicator of his true ability, (I beg to disagree, see my review of that unfortunate record – ed) but the implication taken from comparing Libertines-related records is that of the two it was Doherty who was the dreamer – he had the ideas, the concepts and, critically, the words to express them. Barat on the other hand is not possessed of such things, at least not to the same degree, but far more importantly he seems to have the better knack for a tune, and as similar as the songs on Dirty Pretty Things’ debut the majority of them are studies in how to make a good rock song. Whether Dirty Pretty Things can eventually develop into a band that can be remembered for its own achievements rather than as a subsidiary of a greater band remains to be seen, but they have certainly crafted an album more than deserving of being treated as more than a companion piece to previous achievements. There’s still a lot of work to be done if Dirty Pretty Things are to fulfil their obvious potential, but for now, this is a good beginning.
Words: Matt Gregory.