Pitchfork

Most people would typically advise against buying into-- and therefore encouraging-- any excuses a drug addict might make for his problem. But when it comes to entertainers, this stops no one, and nowadays rehab entrances and exits are timed and presented with the glamour of a red-carpet premiere. And then, of course, there's Pete Doherty. The past few years have seen the ex-Libertine craft a public persona purposefully based on an unending public display of his private habits, his illness fed by the incestuous echo-chamber that is the British entertainment press. By all accounts, Doherty has emerged as a virtousic performer of crack and heroin addiction, prone to such casually grotesque displays as squirting a syringe at a television camera.

On Shotter's Nation, his second release with post-Libertines outfit Babyshambles, he resumes the more traditional kind of performance-making which actually earns him a paycheck. He cuts straight to the chase on the album's first track, describing his lifestyle of being famous for drug abuse: "Carry On Up the Morning" opens with the couplet, "In the morning, where is all the pain/ Same place as the fame, straight to the head." The song's resigned distance sets the scene for Nation, as Doherty sets out to take stock of his current situation.

That situation takes the form you might expect; Nation's songs don't often deviate from sketchy, self-loathing ruminations and regrets for past mistakes. On the first single, "Delivery", the title parcel comes "straight from the heart of my misery." On "UnBiloTitled", Doherty actually seems temporarily rejuvenated after delivering the self-loathing screed, "You think that you love me/ Why don't you fuck off," and the second half of the song takes flight as a result. The "French Dog Blues" lyric "All you ever wanted was a 60 dollar bag/ And a cheap limousine," is taken from an anti-coke Ian Brown song, and it deals with the groupie-populated life of a constantly partying celebrity, much like "Side of the Road" recommends "Don't get surrounded by people you hate."

Notions of Shotter's Nation as some sort of a return to form for Doherty are off-base, mainly because even with backed by the more talented and more responsible Carl Barat, he's never bothered himself with shape. The Libertines were a total mess, sure, but at least they were an invigorating mess, powered by a relentless youthful energy that inexorably leads to extended hangovers. For Doherty, Babyshambles are the musical realization of that hangover, and his half-hearted compositions back it up. "Delivery" cribs the riff from "You Really Got Me" like a freshly-formed high school band, "Crumb Begging Baghead" is an organ-laced Nuggets retread, and for some reason, "UnstookieTitled" sounds like a sleepy, backwards version of R.E.M.'s "Seven Chinese Brothers". As for "There She Goes", we can just say that lounge-y swing-jazz isn't the sort of shape that suits Doherty.

Nation is saved from being a total failure at its close, with "Deft Left Hand". The song begins with a strangely lilted take on the "I Wanna Be Your Dog" riff, then layers a quietly anthemic guitar line atop it. Lyrically, it's probably a good bet to assume the refrain "I will lay down and die if I can't lay by your side" refers to Kate Moss, the Nancy to Doherty's Sid; even if it doesn't, the song represents the only occurrence on Nation where Doherty regains his focus, expressing passion instead of simple bitterness. In the end, maybe Nation can serve as an object lesson for rock aspirants seeking to play a little too hard in lieu of doing their work: one often-overlooked side-effect of profound addiction is the creation of boring, self-absorbed art.