Statue is part of charity exhibition in Marylebone
Peter Kandunias

08:11 7th March 2015

Pete Doherty has visited the life-sized sculpture of himself being crucified, in Marylebone. 

The sculpture is part of the the Art Below’s ‘Stations of the Cross’ exhibition and can be seen at the St. Marylebone Parish Church. Entirely made out of marble, the sculpture is titled ‘For Pete’s Sake’ and will be available for fans to view until March 17.

The Reverend Canon Stephen Evans, of the 200-year-old church said that he hopes the work will inspire visitors to reflect on the resurrection and said of the piece: “Doherty’s battle with addiction and a self-destructive lifestyle have been well catalogued in the press throughout his career. Today, having successfully completed rehab treatment in Thailand, Doherty seeks to live a new life free of the things which had nearly destroyed him.”

Watch a video of Doherty visiting the statue below

The work was created by Doherty’s friend Nick Reynolds, who says he was inspired by seeing ‘Pete crucified by the media.'

This statue will go on sale for £33,000 and the proceeds will go toward’s the fund of the show’s creator, Ben Moore, who is trying to raise awareness and support to find his missing brother, Tom.

The Libertines are set to play Dublin's O2 this July and is a show not to be missed. For more information and tickets, visit here.

 

 

  • 26. 'Don't Be Shy': Usually, Doherty just manages to strike the right balance between producing vocals that are both drunken and listenable. Sadly, 'Don't Be Shy' sounds like a promising, drunken jam session that never quite evolved any further.

  • 25. 'Narcissist': A stomping, energetic track, but the influence of bands such as The Clash and The Jam are laid a little too bare here, and it's over before it's really amounted to anything.

  • 24. 'Begging': What precedes the cacophony of unlistenable noise that bursts through in the final minute is not quite strong enough to stop you pressing the skip button.

  • 23. 'Campaign Of Hate': Its scathing, wry lyrics are so unfiltered and powerful that it just about gets away with having fairly little melody.

  • 22. 'Tomblands': With two lead vocals singing sometimes in unison, sometimes an octave apart, 'Tomblands' toys with sinister musicality to great effect.

  • 21. 'Road To Ruin': With every line chanted back as if it were an army drill sing-along, 'Road To Ruin' chugs along in toe-tapping form.

  • 20. 'Horror Show': Just as you begin to think the whole thing's come off the tracks, everything cuts out and bursts back again in a move that proves the precision and talent that lurks behind the noise.

  • 19. 'Radio America': Languid vocals on top of jangly acoustic guitar with Beach Boys-esque harmonies, but slightly underdeveloped.

  • 18. 'Tell The King': We're not offended by the line, 'Oh my words in your mouth are mumbled all about /You're like a journalist how you can cut and paste and twist. You're awful.' At least, we're trying not to be.

  • 17.'The Good Old Days': It's a shame they don't allow the funky bass riff that kicks things off to linger for a little longer, but it's a strong burst of nostalgia nonetheless.

  • 16. 'Vertigo': Performed with the self-assurance of a band with a considerable back-catalogue, their debut album's opener sets The Libertines apart from their contemporaries almost immediately.

  • 15. 'Death On The Stairs': With the kind of bafflingly opaque lyrics that demand to be paid attention to and the first sign of the band's penchant for distinctive guitar riffs, 'Death On The Stairs' is raucous but polished.

  • 14. 'The Boy Looked At Johnny': There are heavy elements of punk in the gleeful tunelessness of the verse, but it scrapes a melody together for the chorus and the two elements bolster each other with an anarchic energy.

  • 13. 'Last Post On The Bugle': In the the opening few seconds, Doherty audibly sucks air through his teeth, bracing himself for the song's relentless pace. Even during the guitar solo, he sings 'la la la' throughout. It's a feat of stamina, and it's no wonder his vocals become a little slurred by the end.

  • 12. 'Arbeit Macht Frei': At just over a minute long, and with a title that references the sign placed over the entrances of Nazi concentration camps, this is a short, sharp, scathing indictment of human hypocrisy.

  • 11. 'The Man Who Would Be King': There's a tiny hint of musical theatre lurking in the indie rock cracks of this song. We can imagine Fagan from Oliver! singing it -and we mean that entirely as a compliment.

  • 10. 'Boys In The Band': Another song whose sharp, scathing lyrics cut through the noise-wave of guitar and drums. The chorus seems to mock bands' groupies, but the verses take a less obvious jab at the inauthenticity of the bands themselves.

  • 9. 'The Saga': One of the track on the the band's second album that most explicitly references the turbulent relationship between Doherty and Barat, the refrain, 'A problem, becomes a problem when you lie to your friends / and you lie to your people and you lie to yourself' is wickedly undercut with the final, spoken line, 'No no, I ain't got a problem, it's you with the problem.'

  • 8. 'Up The Bracket': The opening incomprehensible yell is quite unpleasant, but the rest of the song more than makes up for it.

  • 7. 'What Katie Did': More buoyant than most of their offerings, and with a "shoop de lang de lang" intro that edges towards self-mockery, 'What Katie Did' takes the tropes of '60s pop music and brands them with The Libertines stamp.

  • 6. 'Time For Heroes': Taking unabashed delight in wordplay and dark humour, 'Time For Heroes' is so jam-packed with urgent, catchy hooks that the whole thing is basically one big wonderful chorus.

  • 5. 'I Get Along': The verse opts for lyrics over distinguishable melody, but it's so captivatingly discordant and chaotic that by the time the music cuts out for, 'Fuck 'em', you're fully on board.

  • 4. 'Music When The Lights Go Out': There's something wonderfully disarming about Doherty's barely-in-tune vocals laid bare and vulnerable with the help of an uncharacteristically minimal instrumental.

  • 3. 'Can't Stand Me Now': It's perhaps a little hyperbolic to call the opening guitar riff iconic, but it's not far off it. As the song hurtles exuberantly through its syncopated 'If you wanna try' bridge, there's little else to do other than stand back and let the chorus knock you back with its juvenile charm.

  • 2. 'What Became Of The Likely Lads': With just the right amount of fast-paced restraint, the song becomes all the more poignant with the knowledge that it was the final track of the band's final album to date. 'Oh what became of the Likely Lads? What became of the dreams we had? Oh what became of forever?' It's achingly sincere, without ever become saccharine.

  • 1. 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun': With a guitar riff to top all others, an infectious, rolling drum beat and vocals laced with both bitterness and optimism, this song is a sheer, raucous delight.

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