Without bending to the far right, Crud indulges in a little patriotic fever of its’ own unremarkable making. Will Jenkins marched down to the Social in Nottingham for four men in search of a revival: The Libertines – British and reet proud of it.
11/06/2002
Nationalism is never a kind thing, being patriotic will always lead you astray and make you so proud of your own country and identity that you will ignore almost anything else. With the current fascination for ineptitude and garage-incompetence come commodity in bands like The Hives, to hark back to the British infatuation of Brit-Pop or the exhausted before it began mod-revival in the late seventies would seem different but providing nothing new.
The Libertines though seek their alternative British identity in influences which could never cloy – The Jam, Small Faces, early Who. The group may be tailored in Camden fatigues yet The Libertines play out half-an-hour of crafted pop.
Peter Docherty, the lead singer, dressed in Keegan’s shirt from Spain ’82, from the opener ‘Horror Show,’ jerks himself to and fro; electrically charged. While guitarist Carl Barat, who shares vocals, is very much his own self-publicist. His mop-top waving enthusiasm is not a demonstration of studied cool, Carl really does enjoy The Libertines from inside out.
In ‘Vertigo’ and their single ‘What a Waster,’ the ego confrontation between Peter and Carl of desperately trying to steal the attention of the Nottingham crowd here tonight exhilarates the whole gig. Swapping positions on stage, hollering into each other’s microphones – all this makes for a frenetic experience.
And when the moderama-stomp of ‘I Get Along’ with its ‘Lazy Sunday’ oompah, turns the group from competent punks to Carnaby Street tune-smiths, all this shows that from the exertion of the show tonight will come an album to make September more than bearable.
To love’s one country too much can be a pain, but love the right elements like The Libertines and we’ll be in for excitement from here-on in.
Will Jenkins for Crud Magazine© 2002