Carl Barât ‘Carl Barât’ // First Listen

Carl Barât
‘Carl Barât’
(Arcady Recordings/PIAS)

With The Libertines’ reunion still fresh and talks of possible further material on the cards, Carl Barât- one half of their formidable lead double-act- can’t have picked a better time to reveal his debut solo material. But far from the uproarious indie-punk of his previous bands, his self-titled release sees the singer take a reflective and surprisingly dramatic about turn…

The Magus
Crashing in with a cascading piano tumble, Barat’s opener primarily builds itself around a discordant shanty rhythm and what appears to be machinery sound effects. More akin to a lost Victorian musical number than anything in his past it sets his debut up as as a highly theatrical affair, although the romantic musings and nods to the “cavalry” and old England show his allegiances haven’t entirely changed.

Je Regrette, Je Regrette
A more upbeat, multi-instrumental number featuring a female choir and a bizarrely festive tinge, ‘Je Regrette, Je Regrette’s cheerful melody and hi-fi production contrast a host of lyrical self-deprecation. “I’m a wretch/ I’m a wretch/A tosser at a stretch” sings Barât over a jaunty piano line; the album is said to be split into two halves- a fall and a redemption of sorts- here the singer is clearly still in the former stages.

She’s Something
A simple song about lost love stripped down to just vocals and acoustic guitar, ‘She’s Something’ pulls back from the drama of the first two tracks to provide a more introspective yet still upbeat moment. With a delicate female vocal and thunderous drum beat entering for the chorus, the overall effect is of a rallying chant as the singer pleads that “We need more time”.

Carve My Name
Opening with a haunting ‘Killing Moon’ recalling guitar line, the album now moves from acoustic simplicity to brooding, filmic atmospherics. “I’ve carved my name on the livers of my lovers/The wives of all my brothers/Forgive me love” spits an embittered Barât before a crashing string-led crescendo kicks in to repeated cries of “Never speak of love again”. The album’s definite highlight, ‘Carve My Name’ also demonstrates the singer’s theatrical leanings, whilst providing a chillingly dark undercurrent.

Run With The Boys
The first single to be taken from the album, this seems to demonstrates the turning point between the two halves of the story. Led by a beat that recalls The Jam’s ‘Town Called Malice’ and utilising a horn section for the first time, the track has an exuberant feel, with Barât finally shedding his baggage. This is probably the most straight-up pop song on the album.

The Fall
Another extremely musical theatre-esque number, this time opening with a marionette waltz and featuring Barât narrating an old-fashioned, tumultuous love affair with heightened theatrics and almost spoken word delivery at times. Peppered throughout with string sections and crashing drums, and culminating in a clliffhanger style fade-out, this could easily be taken from a dramatic re-working of a modern day Oliver Twist.

So Long, My Lover
A wistful ballad with a traditional Irish feel, this more than any other will surely be the track that gets people speculating; as Barât intones “So long my lover, it’s over”, the inclination to wonder whether his lyrics reference personal or musical relationships are unavoidable. Backed by a female vocal choir, this is certainly the album arc’s moment of slight closure.

What Have I Done
Another stripped down ballad that seems to follow on from the previous track’s sentiment, the song this time adds a lamenting tone to the story as the title suggests. A mostly guitar-led number, again with female backing and atmospheric strings, ‘What Have I Done’ is one of the album’s more downbeat moments.

Shadows Fall
Bizarrely reminiscent of a venomous take on ‘Hushabye Mountain’, the album’s penultimate track is a brooding muse on love and loss with the singer huskily intoning that “as I go, I want you to know you are loved”. The album’s most affecting ballad, ‘Shadows Fall’ has a slow-burning sadness to it where other offerings have still retained an upbeat quality despite the lyrical trends.

Ode To A Girl
“This is an ode to a girl that I know”; summing up the album’s themes as a whole, the final track centres around a piano loop with orchestral flourishes and has a definite air of hopeful finality. After a host of introverted, downbeat numbers, Barât’s debut ends on a positive, reflective note.