A belated review of one of the most-looked-forward-to albums of the year (at least for me, and most of the tabloid press…) – “Down In Albion” hit the P2P networks a few weeks before release, which may or may not have influenced the distinct lack of media hype on its actual release. Anyway, here’s my take.

Firstly, this needs a few listens. I was a huge Libertines fan, and standing slack-jawed amongst thousands, covered in beer at the first of their three-night residency at Brixton Academy back in March 2004 remains one of the most intense musical experiences I’ve ever had. I loved Up the Bracket, and even managed to enjoy the eponymous follow-up, The Libertines – probably best described as the sound of a band falling apart.

My only criticism was that the albums were hardly as polished as the Bernard Butler produced singles (What a Waster, Don’t Look Back Into The Sun), and actually just sounded as if everyone (the band, producer Mick Jones, mixers, engineers, tea lady…) had ingested all of the fast drugs in London, turned everything up to 10 that could conceivably be turned up to 10 (and even a few things that couldn’t), and played the album live, never stopping to record a second take.

In retrospect, this is possibly exactly what they did. But it’s a raw, intense sound with more layers than are immediately discernable, and grows on you like something nasty at the back of the fridge.

Down In Albion is much the same, and whilst I was a little underwhelmed after the first few listens, I soon became first whelmed, then encouraged, and finally convinced that this is in fact a fine album indeed. Not that Pete Doherty has made it easy for himself – there are some bad, ocassionally even cringe-inducing moments ahead, but they’re sufficiently few and far-between for this to be, overall, a fine debut…

Met two fellas over gin and mixers
They talked for a while and soon got the picture
One was a souped up Soho mincer,
And the other was a pikey with a knowledge of scripture…

Things get off to a jaunty enough start with La Belle Et La Béte, formerly known to we consumers of fine bootlegs as Conversation Diva. The familiarly slurred vocals, the crisp guitars, the upbeat drums… And then Kate Moss starts singing. About a minute and a half in. Isn’t it embarassing when the singer brings his girlfriend to the band rehearsal? She’s a fine looking woman, but she can’t sing to save her life. What were you thinking, Pete? Are you on crack? Eh? Oh.

Oh, you’re so clever
You’re so clever but not very nice

Recent single Fuck Forever is up next, anthemic panacea to anything uplifting or vaguely optimistic. Great.

Oh poor me, my liberty…

Then straight into A’rebours, which for the trainspotters is an amalgamation of the old bootleg tracks Curtain Call and If You Fall, and is one of the best tracks on the album – obviously the beauty of combining these distinctly separate demos isn’t really going to impress the average listener, who will have heard neither (and wouldn’t want to), but seeing and hearing where this song came from makes it all the more spectacular that it’s come out as well as it has…

Does anybody want tea?
Did anybody thank you, ah fuck me…

I think Morrissey is probably the only other person in the world who could sing about tea and still rock. The 32nd Of December sounds like a future single, albeit one in need of heavy editing for radio play…

Oh, The Sun, They make you out to be a tearaway…

Pipe Down, instant punk anthem, Sticks and Stones, a surprisingly good-if-reggae-tinted reworking of an old Libertines demo, and then the biggest WTF moment of the album so far.

Killamangiro was the ‘Shambles’ first top ten single, and a mighty fine song it was. So quite why it’s been re-recorded for the album I have no idea.

The highlight of the single for me was the poignant “And on the off-chance that you’re listening to the radio, I thought you might like to know you broke my heart” – a plaintive message to one Carl Barat, one-time co-Libertine and eventually the man who broke up the most promising band of the past decade.

On the album version he sings “On the off-chance that you’re listening, I thought you might like to know, la la la la”. Pronouncing the words, Peter, is not optional. Not on the final take. What did the other takes sound like?

Eight Dead Boys has some of the best guitar work on the album, and In Love With A Feeling is the only song I’ve ever heard that dares to reference the popular biscuits Hob Nobs. Not only that, but it’s a decent song too.

Then the one everyone’s been talking about, Pentonville. Rapped, ragga-stylee by Pete’s former cellmate in the eponymous London jail. Okay, it sounds about as out-of-place as a funny joke in a politician’s speech, but it’s not actually that bad. Oh all right, it is.

What Katy Did Next is decent – a simple, catchy love song, but loses several hundred points for ripping the first verse straight out of The Stone Roses album track Good Times, one of the best tracks on Second Coming…

Gin in teacups, and leaves on the lawn
Violence in dole queues and the pale thin girl behind the checkout…

Current single, Albion, is quite simply the best song I’ve heard in years. In a fair and just world, it would be Christmas Number One. In this slightly less fair and just world, that honour will presumably go to the winner of X-Factor. Or Westlife. Sigh.

I heard it said
You had come back from the dead
Playing so fine
Even if you don’t show up on time

Back From The Dead is a reworking of the B-side from Pete & Wolfman’s For Lovers, the best pop single of last year. Good, but not great.

And if I confide in you today, I know you don’t believe a single word I say
I found solace in the flood, and everybody knew that I would
Cause I’m alright, and there’s a slight crack in my chimney…

Loyalty Song is surely another potential single, boasting not just a singalongatastic melody but also the best usage of a glockenspiel in a contemporary song since Radiohead’s Karma Police.

Up The Morning starts slowly, then flowers into the purest uplifting imperfect beauty, and then all too soon we’re at the fourteenth and final track – winding down slowly with Merry Go Round.

Said what I like most about you Pete, is your girlfriend and your shoes
And it’s nearly half past five
Can we swap again?
Half past five, can we swap again?

And the last cymbal fades, and we strain to hear the mutterings in the background, it’s all over.

Not to everyone’s tastes. You won’t like it at all at first – I didn’t. But if it grows on you at all, it’ll grow a lot. Recommended.