After a year in which a host of American, Scandinavian and New Zealand groups have kickstarted a garage-rock revival, a British outfit has belatedly joined the bandwagon. The Libertines are made up of four cheeky Cockney rebels, who infuse their rough and ready guitar songs with a ready wit that's informed by their love of all things London. Their debut album is certainly an energetic piece of work, careering along like a Victorian music hall evening with a rocket up its backside - lurid, vulgar but strangely compelling. In a sweaty club, this would probably seem like the best music in the world. In the comfort of your own home, it has to be said, The Libertines are not quite as convincing. And like most first efforts, Up The Bracket uses up all of its best ideas well before the second half kicks in. Still, behind the ramshackle production (courtesy of The Clash's Mick Jones) there's evidence of an idiosyncratic new talent here - not to mention a wideboy charm that could prove extremely difficult to resist.
