The Libertines, by their own admission, came to London seeking fame and fortune and willing to do anything for it. By 2002, they were England’s answer to New York’s The Strokes and heralded by the local music press as geniuses. “Up the Bracket,” in turn, was praised as an instant indie-rock classic by the magazines.
The Libertines, especially Peter Doherty, were also clever about getting attention through their behavior. But has this conduct served to trick us? Is “Up the Bracket” the early 2000s indie-rock classic we’ve been told it is all these years or merely a hyped-up fabrication? I’m getting fitted for my Union Jack trousers and trying to find out through this review.
The Libertines’ Road to Making “Up the Bracket”
The thing that you have to understand about The Libertines to fully comprehend the band’s story, is just how much time and energy Pete Doherty and Carl Barât spent becoming famous. While for bands like Pavement, indie-rock acceptance just seemed to arrive naturally, ol’ Pete and Carl slaved away for this privilege.
Doherty and Barât came to London and tried to model. They then formed a band. It sounded like The Beatles at first, then like Suede. By the time The Strokes were ready to become a global force, Doherty and Barât were also willing to pivot to making fashionably approved indie rock akin to the NYC band.
What The Libertines did have, besides the knack of quoting Le Marquis de Sade for shock value, was some talent. They may have been following the trends, but Doherty and Barât, in their fever fantasy of becoming the next Lennon/McCartney did manage to dig up some good tunes between them.
That’s precisely why Alan McGee, the man who’d pushed Primal Scream, Jesus & Mary Chain and Oasis to the top of the indie-rock totem poll wanted to manage The Libertines as well.
Just in time. The music press in Britain needed some new heroes. Writing about NYC stars like The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Interpol were starting to put British bands out of business.
The Libertines were immediately accepted. Frequent reports in magazines like NME briefly mentioned the songs. But it was all the business about stalking the bars in Camden, making famous friends, getting into fights, stealing, taking drugs etc. that really got Doherty and The Libertines noticed.
Now that this was all out of the way, could The Libs produce a great album?
Review of “Up the Bracket”
The Libertines’ “Up the Bracket” can be summed by a simple mathematical calculation. The album is The Strokes’ garage-rock revival, a sound inspired in itself by Television and The Velvet Underground, plus Britishness of the most romantic kind.
When not taking in the town and everything that it has to offer, Pete Doherty and Carl Barât fantasize about the dreamland of Arcadia, a fairytale place where pure British ideals and artistic ideals can become reality.
But, before they can reach it, they have to make the kids dance and want to travel down to London and move there.
Produced by The Clash’s Mick Jones, album opener “Vertigo” proves that The Libertines had well and truly found a way to leave their unique touch on the sound that had created so much buzz for The Strokes.
Boys in the Band
With its minimalist but pointed guitar riff and swaggering gutter-poetry, “Death on the Stairs” further proves that The Libertines do not doubt their powers for a moment. Nor are they fighting off attempts to mythologize their own lives, as heard on “Boys in the Band.”
The music press heard traces of punk-rock, The Kinks, The Beatles, and the every best of what English guitar pop had produced. They weren’t entirely wrong. The Libertines are, generally, at their best when they play with the abandon of punk, bring in Beatlesque melodies to the mix, and write about England as had Ray Davies.
“The Boy Looked at Johnny” and “Horror Show” perfectly capture that manic, one-two power chord punch. Jones’s production gives the album a dangerous edge but keeps the beautiful sheen needed to make it successful with the crowds.
The other time when The Libs hit above their weight is when they try to convince fans that, really, they are poets playing guitars. It’s a hit-and-miss. When they do find the target, as on the album’s finest song, “Time for Heroes,” they make a pretty convincing case. It includes lines such as “There’s fewer more distressing sights than that
/Of an Englishman in a baseball cap/And we’ll die in the class we were born/That’s a class of our own?”
At its best, “Up the Bracket” is everything that was good about early 2000s indie-rock before it became a turgid mess of singalong choruses and Coldplay-copycats.
Legacy of The Libertines and “Up the Bracket”
Like the very best records, “Up the Bracket” had an energy about it that set it apart from competitors. It was mostly The Libertines, and not The Strokes, that early 2000s British kids were copying when forming their own guitar-lead bands.
The NME, the biggest supporter of the band, calls it one of the best albums ever made. Pitchfork thinks the same thing and Rolling Stone name-checked it on its list of the best debut albums of all-time. More significantly, I think Alt77 called it one of the best indie-rock albums.
Predictably, and somehow living up to the myth, The Libertines’ original run wasn’t long and was filled with disastrous. The group recorded a follow-up in 2004, writing “Can’t Stand Me Now” about Pete Doherty and Carl Barât finally getting fed up with each other.
The hatred turned to thievery when Doherty broke into Barât’s flat. It would be one of many scandals in which the singer was involved that thrilled the press but consistently weakened him of his talents.
Barât and Doherty created separate bands, The Dirty Pretty Things and Babyshambles. Both were relatively successful in England. Doherty was in and out of rehab, eventually getting himself clean, and he wrote a few strong albums, especially his 2016 record, “Hamburg Demonstrations.”
Finally, the most improbable thing happened, and The Libertines reunited. By 2024’s “All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade“, they were a working band again, and indie rock bands everywhere, but primarily in Britain, were singing their praises. Arcadia was safe and sound!
