- Music
- 24 Oct 06
Disused Mexican banks, Little Britain, Pete Doherty and drunken Sky TV appearances are all on the agenda as Paul Nolan and his temperamental tape machine meet Carl and Didz from Dirty Pretty Things.
A mere five minutes into my interview with Dirty Pretty Things’ Carl Barat and Didz Hammond backstage at the Ambassador, a mini-crisis occurs.
The tape recorder stops rolling, leaving me to fiddle around with it and try to get it working again. Desperately looking for a conversation topic to fill the awkward silence, lying in amongst the plates of food, bottles of beer and soft drinks on the table beside us, I notice a copy of John Harris’ definitive account of the Britpop era, The Last Party.
“Who’s reading that?” I enquire.
“That would be me,” says Hammond. “It’s probably the third time I’ve read it.”
“Why have you read it three times?” asks Barat, incredulous.
“I don’t know,” resumes Hammond, sheepishly. “It’s just a period I really like. It was when I first started getting heavily into music.”
Mercifully, the tape recorder has now kicked back into life, so I hit record and inform Hammond that the Britpop years were when I too first took a serious interest in music. In fact, when Barat and his former band, The Libertines, first came to people’s attention in 2001, they were about to spearhead the most significant movement in British rock music since the halcyon days of Blur, Oasis, Pulp and Suede. Of course, as the world and his wife knows, The Libertines went their separate ways at the end of 2004, and over the past twelve months, while Doherty has been caught up in an increasingly tiresome soap opera, Barat, together with fellow ex-Libertines Gary Powell and Anthony Rossomando, has hit the road to promote Dirty Pretty Things’ debut album, Waterloo To Anywhere.
The promotional trail has taken them to some exotic locations, including Mexico and China.
“Mexico City was a trip,” enthuses Barat. “We played in this disused, 200-year-old bank. There were bullet holes in the ceiling from when it had been held up by the banditos. Then the next gig was an arts festival in a huge car park, which was pretty psychedelic. We were the only band playing there!”
“China was a bit different, a little more sedate,” Hammond takes over. “It was in Taipei and we were the only Western band on the bill. But once we got our bearings and got going the audience were well up for it. Unfortunately while we were there Carl fell off a motorcycle and broke his collarbone. He wasn’t able to play guitar for a while, but Josh Hubbard from The Paddingtons helped us out on the American dates.”
The band’s hi-jinks haven’t been confined to China. Back in May, they made a decidedly tired and emotional appearance on Sky Sports’ Soccer AM, which prompted their fellow guest, Noel Gallagher, to compare Barat’s drunken ramblings to his brother Liam.
“The thing about that was, we really had no idea the show was going to be on so early,” protests Hammond. “We played the gig in Wolverhampton and went for drinks afterwards. Next thing it was, ‘You’re doing this show in an hour’. It didn’t make much sense to get some kip, so we kept going. It’s fair to say we were a bit ragged. When we got there we asked for pints – and they gave us pints of milk!”
Bearing in mind our location, I mention to Barat one particular lyric on the record, “My instinct is to kill the thing I love”>. This bears more than a passing resemblance to a famous line by a certain Oscar Wilde.
“Yeah, I’ve always loved Oscar,” he acknowledges. “You’ve got to admire the wit and the cutting humour. I think probably my favourite work of his is The Ballad Of Reading Gaol. It’s more wracked than some of his other work, but that’s kind of what I like about it. It has all the great humour but you can tell it’s coming from a deep place.”
Speaking of humourists, I mention that David Walliams and Matt Lucas of Little Britain are also in town today for a book signing.
“Do you know what time their show is on at?” asks Barat. “I really like their stuff. David Walliams is actually into our band. I signed a Dirty Pretty Things record for him recently; he was going out with a friend of mine for a while. Maybe we can hook up later.”
Can you ever imagine writing songs with Pete Doherty again?
“Well, I wouldn’t rule it out completely,” replies Barat. “But to be honest, over the past year our paths have diverged so profoundly that I just can’t see it. Certainly not in the immediate future, anyway.”
Dirty Pretty Things are touring up until Christmas. What are their plans for the New Year?
“Well, I’m going to Wales,” says Barat, somewhat cryptically.
To work on new material?
“Yeah, that and just to chill out.”
So you’re just gonna write some songs and see where it leads?
At that, Carl Barat says, “That’s all I’ve ever done.”