Album Review: The Libertines 'All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade'
The Libertines' refined sound and sharpened pens combine to create a mature set of songs that still conjure the band’s hedonistic yet sincere spirit.
The Libertines’ story is a tale as tumultuous as time, but one that has somewhat mellowed in recent years. All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade is the band’s fourth full-length LP and their first in nine years, across a career that spans two decades, give or take a messy hiatus. But the charm is in the imperfection, right?
Its title is borrowed from the novel of the same name penned by Erich Maria Remarque, but manages to pay homage to the band’s home-away-from-home on the sunny coast of Margate. It also references its predecessor, 2015’s Anthems for Doomed Youth, with its Wilfred Owen-attributed title in the same World War I literary canon. It implies a work of epic proportions.
The deeply affecting thing about The Libertines is the partnership between its co-frontmen and writers, Peter Doherty and Carl Barât. Their love for one another is tangible in both lyric and performance. No matter how much time they spend apart they seem to fall back into unison with ease, as if by instinct.
To brand this record a reunion would be disingenuous. The Libertines have been back in some shape or form for the past decade, touring intermittently whilst dabbling in other musical projects and business ventures. So it doesn’t feel like a cheap exploitation of nostalgia. Quite the opposite, in fact, as the band’s refined sound and sharpened pens combine to create a mature set of songs that still conjure the band’s hedonistic yet earnest spirit.
It has become almost irritating to see The Libertines lumped in with the indie sleaze aesthetic of the early/mid noughties. They differ from the laddish bands of that era because of their singular romantic vision. There’s a vulnerability in the music, and sophistication in the lyricism that their peers lacked.
There’s also escapism in Pete and Carl’s projection of the good ship Albion sailing to Arcadia, a utopian ideal, far from the austerity and oppressive nature of our state, and violence inflicted on Ukraine and the Gaza strip. It has, however, become almost impossible to ignore the current climate and so the album incorporates this into its subject matter (Doherty has been vocal about his opposition to Brexit and rising anti-immigration attitudes, stating “I want to bring down borders” in a 2019 interview with The Guardian). All Quiet… presents the sense of uncertainty in the country through its foreboding melodies - take singles ‘Night of the Hunter’ and ‘Shiver’.
Lead single ‘Run Run Run’ showcases the brash, relentless side of the band. Barât explains “The worst thing for The Libertines would be to get stuck in a ‘Run Run Run’ rut, constantly trying to rewrite our past.” It's true, the band have never tried to iron out the creases in their history. The scuzziness is still there, albeit a little less scuzzy on ‘Have a Friend’, which is ‘Last Post on the Bugle’-ish in melody and touches on the ongoing situation in Ukraine.
Unsurprisingly, a handful of the album’s tracks have been lingering somewhere in the aether for umpteen years, existing as demos or rarely materialising at live shows. ‘Mustang’ is one such track and it does not disappoint with its fly-on-the-wall verses and catchy refrain. It marks a new leaf for The Libs, as most of their songs are rooted in the personal, or removed in the romantic. This one is grounded in observations of reality, a character-based narrative of modern Britain depicted on the album’s sleeve. The dream-like ‘Man With the Melody’ sees The Libertines treading new ground again, with all members contributing vocals. The demo was initially penned by bassist John Hassall who lends his vocals to the first verse, with drummer Gary Powell chiming in later too.
‘Baron’s Claw’ is a typical Doherty number, draped in hazy trumpets and a plodding beat that evokes his 2009 solo track ‘Sweet By and By’. Modernist cornerstones like TS Eliot’s The Wasteland, an oft-cited work by the band, also comes to mind.
The sense of unity in the band is perhaps most evident on closer ‘Songs They Never Play on the Radio’ which descends into the kind of camaraderie the band have become synonymous with in its final minute. Like a group of merry friends at the end of a night out, singing, and strolling down the road as the sun rises, but you can almost picture The Libs stuffed in the back of the tour bus with Pete pulling out a guitar for a little sing-song. It’s a raw, seemingly unrehearsed outro that reminds listeners, for all their Quixotic magnificence and rowdiness, it's their sincerity that strikes a chord.
9/10
All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade is out on Friday 5th April. You can pre-order the album here.
Remaining tour tickets for October/November are available here.