Songs which did not fit the usual tone of The Libertines are collected here on Felt Better Alive. That is no knock at Pete Doherty’s latest album, which appears to have saved the best-written pieces from this spike in activity for his solo release. Felt Better Alive had three strong singles detailing the charms of slow living, of the impact we feel from the days of barons and brutality. There is a soft core to each track, and Doherty does well to keep that flow, the harsher times somehow never eroding the gentle acoustic flourish found within Felt Better Alive. Thoroughly likeable slices of life where Doherty takes on this role as vagabond, plants himself as a man to be run out of town. Felt Better Alive is far stronger than The Libertines’ latest, and that comes from the consistency, the light flourishes which Doherty provides.
Where the instrumentals may sound drifting and occasionally freed of consequence, the lyrical points Doherty makes are nothing short of stunning. His country acoustic-like blur makes for a series of sweet songs which give Doherty a break from the music and image which has defined him in the public eye for decades. The one man and his guitar approach works wonderfully for Felt Better Alive, with the title track and preceding song Out of Tune Balloon highlighting the thrills of great written work paired with a convincing, lived-in character. Doherty discovers what happens when you give yourself over to the old songs, the influence it has on a person and how it affects them. Felt Better Alive manages to stand out not through its instrumental flair, of which there is plenty, but in the delight of uncovering little-explored parts of the country genre. Catchy pieces which take listeners around London, across to Normandy, and back again.
Visits to the past on The Day the Baron Died and sailing on through the storm with Stade Océan, there is an honesty to Felt Better Alive which Doherty kindles well. Better than anything preceding it, that is for sure. Gone is the mad-eyed punch of The Libertines, and instead comes a soft-spoken styling, a sensitivity which could have been lost had the instrumentals been that much louder or pushing into the spotlight that little bit more. Personable tones are heard too from Doherty, who writes of hit lullabies and the financial freedom it would provide on Pot of Gold. It is not his aim, though, and you can hear the impact of that cashflow, the desperation it may cause, on Ed Belly. A song like Fingee has a playfulness to it which borders on noodling but is brought back from the brink by some fine instrumental work.
A strong first half turns a tad vague in the latter moments. Doherty runs out of steam though it makes sense given these were songs which did not make the cut, or were massively changed, for The Libertines. Even then, Felt Better Alive is a wonderful project which highlights the clarity, the blur of whimsy and sincerity, which Doherty prides himself on. Here is where it may click into place for many people, those who found themselves uninterested in The Libertines’ brand of off-kilter hedonism. Reconnect with nature, the lush fields where barons once lay, and do so with Doherty’s fine style. Felt Better Alive has moments of beauty to it, and those are rare to come by.
