This came out in 2004 – or at least that’s when I got it. Here’s what I said about it back then (with some minor editing):
Punchups, breakups, breakins and breakdowns. Rehab, reformation, relapse and resurrection.
It would, quite frankly, be impossible for London’s Libertines to write songs that were half as riveting as the endless slo-mo car wreck of their life and career. But damned if these trouble-plagued post-punks don’t give it their best shot on their self-titled sophomore disc, though — and damned if they don’t succeed now and then too.
The whole Clash-meets-Smiths vibe of their 2002 debut Up The Bracket is still in effect here, thanks in no small part to the return of former Clash guitarist Mick Jones in the producer’s chair. Clearly more intent on preserving the raw immediacy and ragged honesty of these performances than creating a slick studio album, Jonesy replicates the anything-goes spontaneity of London Calling on this 40-minute disc. That crackling energy reaches its zenith on autobiographical cuts like The Man Who Would be King, What Became of the Likely Lads and Can’t Stand Me Now, which rehashes frontman Pete Doherty’s death-wish lifestyle.
Like Doherty himself — and indeed, like most truly worthwhile art — the best of these 14 cuts teeter on the razor’s edge between transcendent brilliance and inevitable self-destruction. If that’s not riveting enough for you, nothing is.
