London,

Doherty's graceful return to form

Gavin Martin, London Lite 30.03.09

The lavishly refurbished former East End cinema-cum-bingo hall was a suitable setting for the troubled modern-day music hall minstrel to stage one of his perennial comebacks.

A small sea of mobile camera phones lit up when he appeared. Back from a spell in rehab, dressed in a skinny-leg black suit and tie, topped off with rakish troubadour trilby, the new, mature Peter Doherty was determined to show that not even self-inflicted wounds have dimmed his panache or creative fire. And he had a host of friends along to help him do it. The frisky Arcady introduced the excellent Graham Coxon, accomplice on the new solo debut Grace/Wastelands album. A full band, including Babyshambles bassist Drew McConnell and what he introduced as “the hardest-working string section in showbiz”, was soon in place. The droning cello and staccato violins certainly worked to great effect alongside Coxon’s glistening guitar licks. Together they effectively accompanied vocals more reliant on slur and intonation than dynamics and diction.

But Doherty’s charismatic compositional blend of Blakean imagery, skiffle riffs and dub techniques has a seductive pull. Salome was a Kinks/Clash-style rocker with Peter’s neatly choreographed swagger suggesting a tilt of the trilby to his former producer/mentor Mick Jones. The set sagged with the introduction of sometime partner Wolfman, whose flouting of the smoking regulations proved more remarkable than his contribution to For Lovers. But a solo acoustic Can’t Stand Me Now and the appearance of legendary Liverpool recluse Lee Mavers of The La’s raised the heat. Doherty, happily ceding centre stage to supply backing vocals and handclaps, was as besotted as the audience by Mavers — who returned for a careering, anthemic There She Goes as the evening’s first encore. By then stage invasions were rife, the formerly reserved and cerebral crowd howling like the Wolfman as Peter wrapped him- self in a Union flag offered by a fan. With the band at full tilt he sang the Libertines favourite F**k Forever as a barely clad young lady clung to him. Then, just as the evening seemed to be taking off, it was all over. Even an old school music hall hand would admire Doherty’s ability to leave them wanting more.

Details are correct at the time of publication - please check with venue before booking.

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