It could begin at the start, when the Libertines were first living up to their name with chaotic, substance-fuelled gigs, like their now-legendary 2002 performance to 70-odd fans at the now-deceased La Belle Angele, a fantastic venue that burnt down
later that year.
Then again, it could begin when Carl Barat had had enough of co-leader Pete Doherty's smack and crack habits to kick him out of the Libs – only for them to go on to become this decade's most eulogised band.
Let's just start at the end, with Barat's post-Libs offshoot playing their last ever Capital gig at the newly-opened Picture House venue, following last week's announcement they are to split.
The last time Dirty Pretty Things played the Capital, two years back at the Corn Exchange, Barat adopted a show-must-go-on attitude, appearing sans guitar, having broken his collarbone in a motorbike accident in Taiwan.
It was a similar stance he took this time around, having promised to "give the last waltz everything". And credit where it's due, as there were Dirty Pretty Things – also Gary Powell, who was in the Libs until their demise, guitarist Anthony Rossomando, who stood in for Doherty after he was sacked, and bassist Didz Hammond, formerly of the Cooper Temple Clause – giving an upbeat show in front of a raucous crowd.
The highlights of the night all came from 2006's Waterloo To Anywhere, but if frenetic versions of that album's best tracks got the crowd going wild, their collective energy still didn't come anywhere close to matching that of bare-chested drummer Powell, who for 90 minutes pounded his drumkit like a man possessed.
Deadwood and Doctors and Dealers, two standouts from DPT's debut, proved raw, lyrical crowd-pleasers that wouldn't have been out of place on either of the Libertines' two albums. Other well-crafted tunes were The Enemy, and Gin and Milk, a cynical little number that demands, "Give me something to try for/Give me something to try for."
What Barat should have tried for is more songs like that, as the offerings aired from this year's album, Romance At Short Notice, were not so inspired.
Hippy's Son was dreadful, while you suspect recent single, Tired of England, would have been filler on the first record.
Elsewhere was the occasional flash of genius, before a crowd frenzy greeted the band's biggest hit, Bang Bang You're Dead. Predictably, as soon the trumpet intro kicked in, the crowd went completely nuts. That their debut single is without doubt their most exhilarating suggests, however, that the decision to call time on the band may be the correct one.
The energy levels were raised one last time on the closing You F****** Love It – an incessant, full-on shout-fest, at the end of which Barat saluted the crowd one last time before leaving the stage.
All in all, "an ending fitting for the start", as the Libertines' most famous song goes. The start of what, exactly, remains to be seen – although you can be sure we've not heard the last of Barat. Nor, you suspect, the band with whom he first made his name.
The full article contains 559 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
