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It’s easy to see Waterloo as a sort of exorcism of the
demons that have plagued Barât over the last few years.
Since the Libertines fizzled out
a couple years back, Carl Barât has been a bit under the radar. Unlike his
former bandmate Pete Doherty, whose exploits with crack pipes and supermodels
have graced the tabloids on a regular basis, Barât has kept quiet, maintaining
a comfortable distance. Which we should be thankful for, because that time
outside the spotlight was exactly what he needed to ready his new outfit, Dirty
Pretty Things.
This time around, it seems Barât
means business. Gone for the most part is the romantic allure that peppered the
Libertines’ catalog. Waterloo to Anywhere
is all energy, attitude, and more than a little pent-up anger.
And Barât’s had plenty to be
pissed off about. Not only did he have the world in his hands when his last
band fell apart, he was left to deal with the aftermath of a Doherty-less world
tour while shielding himself from a frenzy of media hounds and junkie
hangers-on. It’s easy to see Waterloo as a sort of exorcism of the
demons that have plagued Barât over the last few years. There are references
throughout apparently aimed at Doherty, as on album opener “Deadwood,” which
finds Barât singing, “You got the world, boy/This all you make it?/You had the
choice, lad/You wouldn’t take it.” Or the lead single “Bang Bang You’re Dead”:
“I knew all along/That I was right at the start/About the seeds of the
weeds/That grew in your heart.”
The album grows more venomous in
spots, touching on corpses in “The Gentry Cove” and calling out “sycophants and
vampires” in the “Blood Thirsty Bastards.” “Gin and Milk” finds the singer
misunderstood and at odds with the world, moaning, “No one gives a fuck about
the values I would die for.”
But to play detective, digging for the veiled
intentions and historic references buried behind each track might do a
disservice to a debut record that’s excellent on its own terms. Rooted in
classic punk but with an infectious pop bounce, it’s both gritty and charming. Waterloo comes off as a tight, tuneful
fuck-you to Barât’s past that holds up against anything he recorded with his
old band—and this new gang looks to be stable enough to last.
RIYL: The Libertines, Franz
Ferdinand

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