The song that introduced Pete Doherty to the act of dancing
Best known for his songwriting skills and his enigmatic, often controversial persona, Pete Doherty rose to fame as the charismatic co-frontman of The Libertines. His career has most notably been marked by a mixture of musical success and personal struggles, making him one of Britain’s most polarising figures in rock music.
With enigma and extravagance defining Doherty’s perimeters, his persona has blended the components of an intellectual with the archetype of the rock and roll troublemaker. Through his roles in both The Libertines and Babyshambles, Doherty crafted a distinctly British sound that sustained the flame of Britpop’s spirit.
However, even those who claim the crown sit on the shoulders of giants, and Doherty’s influences are plenty. The beauty of Doherty’s world is that musical experience extends far beyond just what you hear, and there was one band in particular that introduced the singer to one of music’s most endearing qualities: dancing. There wouldn’t be any luminaries within the dance genre, however. In fact, the group that first got Doherty’s feet moving was indie rock legends The Stone Roses.
“I’m dossing at my Nan’s flat in London NW2 working at Willesden Green cemetery,” Doherty recalls. “By now I’m in possession of Benny, a crappy old Spanish guitar that is causing serious rifts in the domestic politics of Nanna Doll’s gaff. My cousin Lee Cassidy had a flat in an opposite block.”
He continued: “I sat gobsmacked in his kitchen before work one morning as he told me that he’d never listened to guitar music just dance, rave, jungle etc. ‘Hang on though Pete, hold tight….’ and ‘Fools Gold’ blasted out across the room. Bloody Hell, what the fuck is this? I looked at my cousin and then at my feet. Oh, this must be dancing.”
While ‘Fools Gold’ has enough of an indie rock charm to get anybody moving, the one song that Doherty says changed his life isn’t a Stone Roses song at all. It actually comes from the other masters of British rock, The Smiths, specifically their 1987 song ‘I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish’. Doherty recalls the moment he stumbled across the single, saying: “Somewhere between the pillows and the skies, amidst the stark satanic thrills of adolescent whimsy, there’s a second-hand record shop. Let’s say it’s in Nuneaton.”
He added: “Let’s imagine a wonky-fringed 15-year-old striding purposefully towards it with his paper round money in his hand. The week before he’d seen a strange apparition, a call to arms even: [someone] had paraded out of the same shop, wearing a T-shirt saying ‘Shoplifters of the world unite’. Later that day I sat in a room bedecked with memorabilia and stolen library books, a chewed-up Derek B tape and a periscope from a tank the old man had brought back… and my life changed forever.”
Concluding: “‘I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish’ cranked into life, and something divine occurred to me. Within six months, I had officially taken up residence inside Smiths songs ‘Well I Wonder’, ‘Jeanne’, ‘Real Around the Fountain’, ‘Nowhere Fast’.”
