Current mood: BORUGHTY
Category: BORUGHTY Music
December 5th 2006
I'm awake all night, and I'm in a very strange mood indeed..
Why?
2 reasons:
Firstly, the England Cricket team are in the process of snatching an incredible defeat from the jaws of certain victory. Yes boss, I'm hearing by far and away the worst sporting capitulation my goldfish memory can recall and the only good thing about it is I saw it coming sufficiently early to reverse my gambling position and come out with a smart profit..
Secondly: At 9am that next day I'm due to watch Babyshambles record I Love You, But You're Green for BBC 2s The Culture Show. For a reason I can't quite understand I feel badly bothered about this…
As England cricket decays to farce, I consider becoming James Deman and review the foolish belief that England will win a test. I drink tea and tea and TEA and try and put the circket out of my mind and think about why I'm bothered about seeing Doherty and his band…
I create one theory.
It says that I'm annoyed at the musical genius myth of Doherty and that by going to see him and gawp, I'm pandering to a made up, style over content, star obsessed celebrity cult of Junky Pete - a cult (one of the few) I don't believe in.
Yes! I reason, when you look at the facts, it's Doherty's lifestyle, drug habits and girlfriend, rather than his music and electric performance genius skill that's made him a big and well repeated household name.
In fact, neither The Libertines or Babyshambles have made treble platinum, or sold out Wembley on the back of their name alone. They haven't had 6 consecutive number ones or had a ten year career loaded with classics we all know and love. Furthermore, I'd be more than willing to bet that if you stopped and quizzed 10 people to sing so much as one Pete Doherty song, at least 9 would struggle to pull it off, even though 99 out of a hundred would know who he is…
So therefore, why should I - an eminently unknown music critic, trying to make a big fat shitty name for himself, be wasting time on someone who'd yet to touch me, or for that matter, most of the population in any real and musical way? Was I becoming another sad old star fucker journo, going along with the dull indie tide because it was there??
Another theory I had was that I was battling some kind of a moral position...
Perhaps I was going to see a freak show - to see a man on his way to the modern equivalent of the cross - a creative human sacrifice. And there I was in my fake beard shouting "STONE HIM!!"??
But if I really gave a shit about that sort of thing, why on earth was I involved in any kind of entertainment or creative business whirl?
Yes boss, it only takes the briefest of glances behind the scenes of any creative enterprise, to see the whole game's corrupt, voyueristic and canibalistic by it's very nature. Creative art feeds on misery and destruction as art always must, and no matter how many old morals suggested I should, I certainly shouldn't be disagreeing with this state of affairs - if only because there's no point disagreeing with something that's inevitable..
With these two theories floundering, I started to think about Kate Moss, or Katherine as I prefer to call her...
Ah ha! Maybe I was annoyed because like many idiot boys, I'd had a part time crush on Moss for years, and the one and only time I'd seen her in the flesh, and been in any position to do anything about it, was in the pub about 3 weeks before her and Pete's relationship appeared to start. And then because I was clad in an outfit equivalent to that worn by Vince and Jules after The Fox has hosed the remains of Marvin off them in Pulp Fiction, I didn't dare approach her, she didn't return my stares and then she was gone....
Perhaps I disliked and feared the idea of Pete because he was fucking the most desired woman in the country and I wasn't??
Well, all of these and various other ideas came and went and though they all had some resonance, none really added up to the full trick. And as Australia rollicked towards the ridiculous victory, I put such thoughts aside, made it in to the venue for the recording, and watched and waited to be impressed.
The strange thing was that from the word go, I was very impressed with both Pete and Babyshambles.
Contrary to the myths of lateness and bad behaviour, the band arrived on time, or perhaps a bit early. They walked onto the stage as if they'd just popped out for a packet of fags and the audience were paintings on the wall.
Without fucking about, they then got on with playing their music as if it was the most natural thing in the world. There was no pretentious concern about the sound check, any discernable ego or nasty attitude to be seen. They simply played like they wanted to play, and like playing was their life. It was fluid and smooth and a pleasure to watch, meanwhile Pete the hooligan bad boy junky shit head mothercuker behaved like a charming, quiet and pleasant young man.
I thoroughly enjoyed the performance and here it is, complete with my big bald head swaying about in the middle and at the end as I consider my disbelief...
It was much later that evening, or perhaps even the next, that I worked out the true nature of my original problem…
I'd been nervous because I was to be in the presence of someone who'd done what so many seek to do when they take on London or Hollywood or New York or any other seething modern day metropolis.
Pete Doherty had started a creative project, seen it succeed to some notable degree, swum in the celebrity lake of filth that's followed and nearly killed himself in the process…
And my problem was that I was jealous…
 | Currently listening : The Blinding EP By Babyshambles Release date: By 05 December, 2006  |
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