Sound — 8
The sound of late nights white bright on cocaine and shipwrecks in the dinge of East End flats from which stagger and emerge Dickension dreamers searching in all the wrong places for love and Arcadia. It was start of the millenium and old Oasis were dour and dull, Radiohead trapped in a future of electric bleeps and blips, and here they were, The Libertines, to save British rock. Hooray! Up The Bracket, their first and best album, is raw and energetic, barely produced by (former Clash) Mick Jones and bursting with live intensity. In the slower songs, such as Radio America, this produces an intimacy recollecting spontaneous bedroom gigs, while making the faster tracks all the more contagious and fun.
Lyrics — 8
Pete and Carl's voices compliment each other perfectly; Carl with his suave and cool as lou reed voice preventing Pete's drunken swirl of lyric from floating away on romantic notions and heroin. The lyrics are mostly tales of the dirty but divine Londen, with a sense of love and beauty smothered in filth and the frantic. As raw, but brilliant as the music.
Overall Impression — 9
As an album it is far more complete than the follow up, the self-titled Libertines, which contained songs just as good but also songs that bored as filler. Up The Bracket captures the band at their best before fame was thrust upon them and Pete spiralled glassy-eyed into addiction and tabloid caricature. Here though, he has the talent to atone for that, and for a brief moment he really does seem so very charming and exciting; which is worth the price of the album alone.