Live Review: Pete Doherty.

Pete Doherty

Liquid Room

Edinburgh

21/09/11

the man with the soul of a busking poet returns 

Wearing a black suit but no trademark trilby hat Pete Doherty strolls onstage, picks up his acoustic guitar and, beneath stark unfussy violet lights begins his solo set as casually as if he’d just stopped for a 15 minute break before coming back out to pick up from where he’d previously finished. Only the reaction of the crowd - all screams and cheers - suggest his time away from this city has been so much longer than that - and tonight they were happy to see him back. He’s stirred up more hysterical media hype throughout his career than anyone else and split public opinion as fervently as any insincere politician might. His recent jail sentence for cocaine possession only chucked up another fresh source of nourishment for the frenzied to feast on. His intelligence, natural gifts and poetic intuition have endured long spells subdued by his addictions while his ego took off with Kate Moss for a while. Tonight all we can do is wait to see just how much of him has come back from the wreckage.

Swaying as he sings his way through ‘The Bowery Song’ his eyes barely lifting upwards he wheels away from the mic to face the wall before quickly strumming a chord change into gear and spinning back round to head straight into ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ from his Libertines legacy and suddenly the Liquid Room has joined him - a full voiced choir - ‘cornered, the boy kicked out at the world, the world kicked back a lot fucking harder’ as he paces and steps the stage, singing with them, then dropping away again as they sing and he plays - a guitarist in a band of several hundred frontmen. He refrains from speaking between songs but still charms without trying , strumming out random chords before quickly changing the structure and breaking into another song. He’s aimlessly cool,  it catches them by surprise and they roar approval every time. He continues the journey through his Libertines, Babyshambles and solo work effortlessly and his volleying vocal on ‘Don’t Look Back Into The Sun’ drops and yelps and soars with perfection. The surreal bohemia of two ballet dancers gliding across the stage during ‘For Lovers’ reminds you just how creative the mind of Pete Doherty is. Bringing the song to its end all three bow theatrically to their audience before he fires onwards with a frenetic ‘Killamangiro’ followed by ‘Beg Steal Or Borrow’.


He stays with the older songs, ‘Music When The Lights Go Out’ and the biggest cheer of the night is kept for  Libertines catchy chant-along favourite ‘What A Waster’ the audience feverishly singing along with him as the line ‘get back inside you’ve got nothing on, oh mind yer bleeding own you 2 bob cunt’  fills the room. He continues, repeating the lyric ’2 bob’  over and over just so everyone can sing ‘cunt’ repeatedly. He’s spent the whole gig swaying and prowling the stage, spinning around and walking away, strumming random half tunes and changing the pace of songs midway. Wheeling his acoustic guitar up from his waist to his chest, playing one handed, jabbing it forwards or stopping completely. The last few songs are again pulled from his Libertines era and include ‘What Katie Did Next’ with its catchy ’shoop shoop shoop de lang de lang’ harmonies  and ‘Time For Heroes’. His debut solo single, the harmonica laden ‘Last Of The English Roses’ is next up before he finishes back in the past again with ‘I Get Along’ A fight breaks out at the side of the stage just as he brings the gig to an end. Security mop up the mouthy ones in less than 2 minutes, a perfectly timed operation indeed as Pete Doherty returns to the stage. He grabs the mic and announces ‘That’s your lot, it’s time to go, there will be no encore’. He smiles, picks up his guitar and kicks straight into ‘Fuck Forever’ As some of the crowd appear onstage beside him security quickly pull them down only for another lot to appear in their place, and again a third time.  It was all very jubilant and celebratory as they bounced and sang along with him, this man that they’d all came to watch, this man who hadn’t let them down once tonight, this man who had played a blinder here and was a joy to witness. He brings the song to an end, unstraps his guitar and holds it above his head for a few seconds as if celebrating a victory,  quickly smiles and throws it into the crowd. By the time they look back up he’s gone.

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Photographs by Suzanne Hancock