Freak show or music show?
I attended a rather intriguing gig the other night. To be honest, I only went out of morbid curiosity and because my friend had a free ticket. In the US, our celeb meltdowns are more like Charlie Sheen; shunned and disgraced. In the UK, yours play sell-out gigs at London venues and spark devotion among their legions of fans. I swear, the longer I live here the less I understand you Brits. First I find out that my best friend’s house is powered by red diesel suppliers, not the mains electricity and now I discover that a self-confessed junkie and thief is still adored by the music press and the British public!
Pete Doherty was, of course, the “gentleman” in question. Undoubtedly a great musical talent and I’d even go so far as to say he’s a lyrical genius. That first Libertines album was a real thing of beauty. His solo stuff has been more self indulgent (or as my gig chum said “so far up his own arse he could sing a duet with himself”) but he can, occasionally, put on a good show. It all depends what substances he’s taken just before going on stage, I suppose…
The recent gig that I attended was entertaining enough – but I have to admit to watching the crowd more than Pete. It was weird to see such levels of hero worship for someone who, if he couldn’t play a guitar, would probably have been slumped in the gutter outside the venue asking all the attendees for “20p for a cup of tea”. There was even a stage invasion, which struck me as something akin to a religious fervour, with grown men clamouring to touch St Peter. To be honest, I’m not sure I’d want to touch someone that scruffy, who looked like he’d just stepped off the set of Trainspotting, but there go you crazy Brits again!
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