Archiving here for myself so I can get rid of bookmarks and not have to scan through posts etc.
Peter in Q Magazine
Heroin and crack cocaine affect the body in many ways. The former promotes diarrhoea, insomnia, cramps in the limbs, anxiety and a painful condition addicts often refer to as "itchy blood".
The latter brings on lung trauma and an aching, flu-like syndrome. When cocaine is smoked, it breaks down tooth enamel, causing teeth to rapidly rot.
Since many of these symptoms are internal, it's sometimes difficult to spot people who use these drugs.
Pete Doherty, however, looks shocking. His eyes are watery pink. His voice has a husk.
There are open sores around his lips. His teeth are ruined. He says he hasn't slept for five days since babyshambles finished a 26-date UK tour, one marked by no-shows and, in Aberdeen, fans arrested for rioting.
Babyshambles are Pete Doherty's new band, which he formed after falling out with, and eventually being expelled from, The Libertines. He would only be allowed back, said his friend and co-frontman Carl Barat, when he stopped using crack and heroin. This internal strife conspired to derail them on the eve of releasing a much-hyped second Libertines album, one that was expected to elevate them to rock's premier league.
Doherty also split with Libertines manager Alan McGee, after McGee personally paid for Doherty's short-lived attempts at rehab. He is now managed by James Mullord, who runs 1234, a small London record label.
Barat has referred to Babyshambles as Doherty's "denial band".
An early incarnation was terrible. Today's version, against all expectations, are terrific. One song in particular, anthemic rocker Fuck Forever, is Doherty's first claim to greatness.
Logic would dictate that Doherty was finished without the Libertines. Now it seems the reverse is likely.
But there's much about Doherty's situation that is deeply repellent.
The audience on Babyshambles' tour elevate him to hero status. "Peter! Peter!
" they chant. But why, or what, are they celebrating? At some shows, 15 people stand onstage, grinning and clapping along: friends, groupies, trendies, addicts, ambulance chasers.
Backstage, before shows, a few smoke crack with Doherty.
Right now, just before we are due to meet, Doherty decides he is unhappy with a previous article I had written around the time of The Libertines' first album, one which featured a faithful transcript of Barat trying to keep things on an even keel, while his partner ranted and raved, amping up the grubby myth making (Doherty: Carlos was born in a kitchen sink..
. taken off his mother when he was five years old and taken into care because she was a junkie." "That's not true," sighed Barat).
So Doherty blows out the interview. Phone calls are made by his PR, and he agrees to meet up the next day. he suggests I wait by a Texaco garage opposite a terrible estate in East London.
Eventually he turns up riding a red Vespa, Mullord on the back. It seems Mullord lives on the estate, which is Doherty's preferred location to talk.
His flat is split-level.
There's a bedroom on the top floor, which Mullord blocks as we walk past. Downstairs, in the kitchen, Doherty asks for "a livener". Mullord produces a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
It's 11.30am. When he speaks, Dohert often talks nonsense, a mix of trademark Albion-ese, the singer's own poetic language, and exhaustion.
"I'm so tired, man," he says. " The original idea, get some kip, to be on the ball for the interview. So much for that.
I'm like a bag of potatoes."
We persevere for a bit.
What's the difference between Babyshambles and The Libertines?
Well I suppose the key difference, and you might not notice it at first, is that, if you look closely...
I'm not in The Libertines.
How about musically?
Well.
.. yeah.
I don't play music with The Libertines. [Thinks] What do you think's going to happen?
I think that The Libertines can't carry on without you and that, in most people's eyes, Babyshambles will replace them.
I wouldn't like to continue playing live unless this band were better than The Libertines. Better than anything I'd done before. Ever.
How do you feel about the album The Libertines now?
I feel a bit disgusted and disturbed by the way someone, other than myself, has done the artwork, the inlay, and how my songs haven't been credited. They should change their name and do their own songs.
Carl's going round saying he wrote The Likely Lads. He knows that's not true.
So you're saying you wrote that song?
No. We wrote it together. On the record it says Barat.
[Actually, the writing credits were left off The Libertines, unlike Up The Bracket, which credits "All songs Doherty/Barat". The matter of who wrote what is currently being looked at by lawyers] It was always 50/50. That was the idea.
Until I turned on the telly one day and saw them doing Don't Look Back Into The Sun and then I knew it wasn't The Libertines.
But contractually, haven't The Libertines got to tour to promote the album?
McGee's got them on a conveyor belt.
We would only have signed a deal that allows freedom. As individuals. As men.
As Libertines. But maybe that's the attitude that gets you kicked out of The Libertines. It is, actually.
Of course it is.
Carl has been very open about wanting you back, even if it's just as a friend..
.
He won't let me play, though. Why does he have to feel bad about stuff and miss me?
Why does it have to be that way? Anyway, it seems I've been summoned now. Apparently, Carl wants to talk to me.
He was sending texts to a number that didn't even exist. For fuck's sake, man.
Would you even like to rejoin The Libertines?
You must be out of your mind. You can't be in a band people who've done that to you, man. I give them my fucking songs and they kick me out of the band?
There's eight or nine songs I should have done as Babyshambles. I was duped over those songs.
He won't let you play because he's trying to help you.
By not kicking drugs, aren't you letting him, and everyone to whom The Libertines are so important, down?
If they are so important to all these people, they should take time to listen to the lyrics. It's an explosion, right?
With the songs...
romantic and the low moments and the highs...
It was pretty much a cry from the darkness, a lot of it. Why carry on celebrating that? Times for Heroes should have been the last single.
You shouldn't have made a second album?
We haven't made a second album. No, we haven't.
That's not my album. I've been packaged by it and advertised by it and had strategies weaved around by it. It's nothing to do with me.
[Disgusted] The cover with me looking like a very handsome boy's junkie mate? Come on, man. It's not The Libertines.
You've given interviews to The Mirror in exchange for cash which you've then used to buy drugs. Do you regret being so open in the press?
I've never been open with the press.
Or I would be assassinated. It's not what people would want to hear. They wouldn't even be able to hear.
Their earmuffs would blow up. Fucking cunts.
Intermittently, as we are talking, Doherty will disappear up to the bedroom.
At points he makes no sense at all, so I turn the tape recorder off. He tells a convoluted libelous story about Alan McGee and drugs, but realising this hasn't been recorded, he turns the tape on again and repeats it word for word, as though he had it perfectly prepared.
Some other things happen.
His manager leaves the flat to collect some keys. Doherty finds a skipping rope and starts skipping. he asks me if I have any cocaine.
He plays The Libertines album and sings along. He asks me if I will call singer Lisa Moorish, by whom he has a child. He decides he wants to cancel his afternoon of interviews and take their song to the zoo.
He asks me if I want any cocaine. Eventually, while he is trying to make a joint, he falls asleep at the kitchen table. I try to help him upstairs to bed, but he's having none of it.
"I've got to stay up and guard the fort," he mumbles. His manager comes back and I go.
We try to reschedule the interview fours times during the next week.
Once, 20 minutes after we are due to meet, Mullord sends a text message to Doherty's PR: FORGET INTERVIEW.
Eventually we reconvene at the office of 1234 Records in Hoxton. Doherty looks brighter.
His rascally grin is back. "You had a night's sleep?" asks Rob, a friend who comes by to drop off a guitar.
He says he has, and Rob kisses him on the head.
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