Anthems for Doomed Youth

With the buzz silenced and the rag headlines but a thing of the past, it’s encouraging to see that The Libertines have lost none of what made them worth the hype in the first place.

Not every song on the record lives up to the anthemic nature promised in the title, but there are certainly moments of triumphant redemption and plenty of nostalgic nods to fulfill fans' understandably high expectations.

Anthems for Doomed Youth isn’t perfect, but it succeeds in redressing the balance, reminding you that before Doherty became an embarrassing red-top fixture, he and Barât were genuinely great songwriters with a uniquely skewed vision.

Anthems For Doomed Youth will bring more joy to the fans than the naysayers may suspect.

It won’t be for everyone and there will be those who continue to look at Pete and Carl’s relationship with utter bemusement, but their songwriting prowess has ensured that the decade-long wait between albums has been more than worth it.

There are several instant classics here. [Oct 2015, p.94]

A career peak. [Oct 2015, p.78]

There's no romance in the songs where the duo confront their demons (Barât has also struggled with addiction and depression), but they're still full of fight.

Anthems for Doomed Youth proves conclusively that they are somehow still standing. Drunkenly swaying and swaggering, but still standing proud and tall.

It’s been well over a decade since Julian Casablancas & Co. have released an album as taut and wasted and sexy as Anthems for Doomed Youth.

Anthems for Doomed Youth does what it needs to do by re-establishing the band, but longevity may depend on keeping the personal drama to a minimum, and instead confining it to the music. However in the present, Anthems for Doomed Youth is an enjoyable overload of charisma.

It's as authentic a return as a fan could ask for, and works equally well as a final chapter in the band's story or a new one.

A solid, quality record with atmosphere and character in spades that proves its creators as an active and current force.

With those days behind them, the Libs have returned for their first LP since 2004, full of sharp garage slop, glam anthems, Waterloo sunburn and loads of references to their collapse.

A clutch of fine torch songs (Iceman, Dead For Love, the title track) save the day, suaveness replacing the sordid sweat of old. Their youth was doomed, but their adulthood shows promise.

While the music may not always match up, the lyrics reaffirm The Libertines’ place as one of the most vital British bands ever and should usher a fresh generation of believers on board the good ship Albion.

Now even Gary Powell’s drums can’t give these sodden valentines the right kick.... The best Anthems recall a time when Doherty and Barât could still tickle each other.

It’s a mostly successful and far more mature record; it just has to be seen as a more grown-up Anthems for Doomed Youth rather than the anthems from doomed youth that they previously brought.

Anthems For Doomed Youth has plenty of reminders of why people fell in love with The Libertines in the first place.... For better or worse, the habit of both spinning and dwelling upon their own mythology remains too. [Oct 2015, p.112]

If the solutions offered are sometimes better than expected, they’re also, frequently, tentative and tired.

There’s enough fun here to justify Anthems’ existence, which really is a lot to say for an album that for so long seemed like it would never exist. If it acts as a one-off return for fans, it’s an amiable, if un-revelatory set.

Anthems never quite lets itself be business as usual; the sound is cleaner, but not polished to a sheen. The anger is still there, but it’s tempered a bit--only a couple of tracks (including the aptly named "Fury of Chonburi") really pick up the pace to a recognisably Libertine degree. Lyrically, though, every facet of the band’s existence is dissected.

Musically there’s nothing new here, though Anthems For Doomed Youth feels particularly sanitised, especially compared to the freewheeling, ragged approach that gave The Libertines’ first two albums such charm.

While the music has the spindly, junkie-skeletal manner of earlier releases. But the way that songs relentlessly mythologise their past is frankly wearisome at this late stage.

Even with Pete Doherty clean, and their songcraft to the fore, Anthems for Doomed Youth has the unmistakable tang of opportunity squandered.