Peter Doherty - Felt Better Alive

On ‘Felt Better Alive’, Peter Doherty breathes a sigh of relief. This album is the sound of somebody who has fought through a multitude of demons in full public view, come through the other side and is finally beginning to achieve a sense of peace. It sees The Libertines head honcho further stake his claim to being one of the most versatile, poetic and naturally skilled songwriters of his era. Born in the pastoral rurality of his Normandy home, these songs have a flavour of country bounce to them, the guitars remain largely acoustic and we get fiddle solos aplenty. Eccentric characters accentuate the lyrics, from the alchemic cider maker on opener ‘Calvados’ to the gallery of barfly rogues on ‘Poca Mahoney’s’, giving Doherty the aura of an old raconteur, spinning yarns told to him and passed down through the generations.

Yet, the focus isn’t purely on fiction; ‘Pot of Gold’ is a sweet ode to his daughter, and the title track feels like a war-scarred manifesto for his second lease of life. ‘Ed Belly’ is the perfect blending of these styles, an eponymous character whose story of travelling with an arm full of songs through “clouds of skag” seems very familiar to his author. ‘Felt Better Alive’ isn’t going for high art, he’s not looking to create another masterpiece, as evident in the nursery rhyme stomp of ‘Out of Tune Balloon’ and ‘Fingee’, a song that can be best described as Chas n Dave-meets-Lankum that barely lasts two minutes. But this is the sound of one of rock’s most enduring survivors exhaling and having fun, which is ultimately all that matters. “Troubled souls have a song worth singing” goes the closing thesis on ‘Ed Belly’, and that’s why so many still feel such a kinship with Peter Doherty’s music.