The Libertines: Anthems For Doomed Youth

The Libertines
Anthems for Doomed Youth
(Harvest/EMI)
Rating: 4 stars out of 5

Their time together was brief and volatile, and unfortunately defined in large part by Pete Doherty’s extracurricular tabloid-baiting behavior, but The Libertines solidified their place in British music history in the stroke of just one album. Their 2002 debut Up the Bracket was the stuff of buzz-band dreams, stacked up from beginning to end with punk rock anthems and heroic rock ‘n’ roll melodies. Less than a year after The Strokes dominated the press cycle with their own auspicious debut, Is This It, The Libertines countered with a uniquely British counterpart, more London ‘79 than NYC ‘77. Cliche as it is to compare them to The Clash, The Libertines were the rare band to actually earn it.

The band’s self-titled album two years later was nearly as good as their debut, though things had already begun to go steeply downhill for the band, and the tensions between Doherty and Carl Barat had reached a boiling point, prompting the necessity for hired security to keep the pair separated during the recording sessions. It wasn’t long until everything came to a screeching halt, and Doherty and Barat went their separate ways, with Babyshambles and Dirty Pretty Things, respectively. Like far too many bands before them, The Libertines’ own internal conflicts ultimately overcame their talent and promise, leaving two albums and a trail of bitterness behind them.

It’s a wonder, then, what time and distance can do for a band. Just five years later, the band reunited for the festival circuit, and another five years after that, The Libertines—helmed by a newly drug-free Doherty—return with their first set of new music in a decade. That’s worthy of some level of celebration on its own, but that album, Anthems for Doomed Youth, is much stronger than I would have expected for a famously volatile band more than a decade removed from their heyday. And yet, there’s fire, passion and energy here—a newfound sense of purpose for a band that seemed unlikely to find their spark again. Leadoff track “Barbarians” explodes with a tense, tom-tom-heavy rhythm, segueing into a triumphant chorus worthy of vintage The Jam, Doherty lamenting, “All I want is to scream out loud!”

As strong a start as “Barbarians” is, The Libertines maintain a similar level of quality throughout, nimbly pulling off reggae-inflected punk in “Gunga Din,” jangly surf punk in “Fame and Fortune,” and Britpop in the vein of classic Blur in “Belly of the Beast.” For how much of a disaster The Libertines became, the manner in which they’ve reassembled the pieces is laudatory. They’re not necessarily the same band—if they were, Anthems for Doomed Youth wouldn’t even exist. But while they’ve sacrificed the more inflammatory aspects, they’ve retained their songwriting prowess and knack for melody. With the buzz silenced and the rag headlines but a thing of the past, it’s encouraging to see that The Libertines have lost none of what made them worth the hype in the first place.