Breakin' the law... Pete Doherty hangs out with some of his closest pals. Photograph: Matt Dunham/AP
It's not been a good week for shareholders at EMI. Following the revelation that Robbie William's Rudebox has gone down about as well as Jade Goody's autobiography at a Channel 4 bring'n'buy sale comes news the music megalith has signed Babyshambles in a seven-figure deal.
"We are extremely pleased to be welcoming such a vibrant and talented band to the label," said a spokesman, stopping short of confirming it was a shot in the arm for all concerned.
Oh the irony. EMI - the label who dropped the Sex Pistols 30 years ago this week for being too unsavoury- putting their faith in Pete Doherty, a man who, in the last 12 months alone has squirted a syringe of (fake) blood at an MTV film crew, been fined for assaulting a BBC reporter and was last seen by the authorities fleeing a stolen car in Hackney at five in the morning. Any debenture holders at the Rhythm Factory last week to check out their new investment would have seen a glazed looking Doherty perform a new song called "Unstookie-titled". Did Chris Martin create Yellow for this?
The truth, of course, is that all real music lovers should rejoice in the news. Cast as a cult loser in the Syd Barrett/Peter Perrett mode by detractors following poor sales of Down in Albion, the reality is that Doherty's continuing influence on pop culture is vast.
The charts are flooded by bands who have refracted The Libertines music and image through their own experiences (The Kooks at stage school; The View via a Dundee bus-shelter). Doherty's outlook - a celebration of a mythical Albion incorporating elements of everyone from Tony Hancock to Stan Bowles to Thomas DeQuincey, is a far cry from the thoughts of Liam Gallagher.
Reports of Babyshambles' creative demise have also been grossly exaggerated. Raw and unsettling, the piratical mix of grand anthems, lovelorn ditties and scabrous riffs on Down in Albion may have terrified teenage Fratellis fans, but its refusal to compromise speaks volumes for an artist - at 27 - still with the best ahead of him. EMI may have paid through the nose to secure the services of rock's premier poet, but Doherty's capacity to show up the dullards currently filling up the pop playground is priceless.
