Waster or Wasted Talent? Pete Doherty's American Dream

I’m in a minority in America - a Pete Doherty fan. The thing that surprises most Americans about Pete isn’t the shocking number of drug charges he’s racked up in the past few years. Or his bimonthly YouTube escapades with a brigade of kittens. It’s that he’s relatively famous in Britain. Besides the rare mention on E! as Kate Moss’ former erstwhile boyfriend and a lone Spin cover last year, Pete is largely under the radar in the United States. It’s a strange situation; he’s been selling tabloids for years in England, but Americans would be hard pressed to pick him out of a line up of weedy, trilby-bedecked pale guys.

Why? Well, it certainly doesn’t help that his criminal record makes it virtually impossible for him to tour the U.S, leaving his work with Babyshambles and his stunning new solo effort, Grace/Wastelands, unpromoted. This would be a major problem for any artist, but it’s especially bad news for Pete because a lot of his shambolic charm is lost if you don’t get the live experience. I saw him twice in London this spring, with Babyshambles and then solo, and his performances profoundly changed the way I listen to his music. The emotion that he brings to his lyrics in a live show lingers when you hear his albums again. Doherty can be infuriating-- he showed up at 2 a.m. for the Shambles gig I saw-- but he’s also incredibly compelling on stage. It might be his saving grace in the UK; no matter what he’s doing in the tabloids, he’s an undeniable talent.

The upside to Doherty’s complete lack of publicity in America is a lack of bad publicity. After years of exposure to Pete painting with his own blood, cancelling strings of gigs, and cavorting online with Amy Winehouse and a litter of mice, English audiences have every right to be sceptical about the quality of his music. His reputation here is much more innocuous; “Isn’t that the guy who used to date Kate Moss? He does music?” He has an opportunity, especially in his new incarnation as the more serious, professional ‘Peter’ Doherty, to break through in the U.S. He doesn’t have to win over an alienated or critical audience, just win fans for the first time. Which should be easy if he can keep up the new persona; when he’s sober, it becomes apparent that he’s witty, likeable, and incredibly gifted.

So why not just push 'Grace/Wastelands' without a tour? The album is terrific-- easily Pete’s most put-together, relaxed, accessible work. But is it accessible enough for an uninitiated audience? Half the joy of Pete’s work for UK fans is in the complex mythology of his musical past, the autobiographical nature of his work and references to his legendarily volatile partnership with Carl Barat. Most of his fans have been listening since The Libertines (and listening hard; the crowd knew every word during his gig at Camden’s Proud in April, even when he broke out the Libs' 'The Ha-ha Wall'). It’s questionable whether he could make it without that kind of intensely dedicated fanbase, as well as the fawning support of the NME and the irrefutable evidence of his talent in the form of Up the Bracket in recent memory. Plus there’s no obvious niche for him in America, no easy way to explain him to prospective listeners. At home he’s got an entire battalion of bands like The View and The Courteeners who desperately want to be The Libertines, bringing his music into at least a tributary of the mainstream. Here he’d end up falsely classified with acoustic, shoegazing American indie that populates our college radio stations.

Another hurdle might be the inherent Englishness of Pete’s music. In truth, it’s one of the things I find most compelling about his work. His vision of England as a Blakeian Albion is elegant and unique, but there’s no guarantee it will make any sense to a listener in San Diego. And even if it does, will it strike the same nerve of bitter-sweet nationalism? Lyrics have always been Pete’s strong point; Carl was the one who shaped The Lib’s punk sound. But understanding the myriad references, from Wilde to Stoppard, takes some investment and repeat spins, and will mean nothing to a casual listener. American audiences might wonder why they should bother dealing with “gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn” when they can just have “sex on fire.”

Like his notoriously unstable gigs, Pete Doherty’s image in America goes in a thousand directions. His image might be better without the constant parade of Sun covers, but he also might need that extra push of publicity - even the negative kind that spins him as a tragic genius/junkie - to overcome the challenges that his nuanced, deeply British music presents for an international audience.