I first saw Pete Doherty live back in 2012. There was a ballerina twirling around the stage like she’d wandered in from a completely different show, pints of Guinness flowing freely, and Pete—well, Pete was there too. Sort of.

He fought gravity - still winning, but not with a comfortable lead. And yet, he pulled it off. The concert was great. Not polished, not perfect, but raw, unpredictable, alive. And with Pete Doherty that’s never a given.That night, though, he made it work. Chaos and poetry in equal measure. One of those evenings you remember not because it was flawless, but because it wasn’t.

If you're into the Brit indie scene, you probably know him as the frontman of Babyshambles and The Libertines. If you're not into that kind of music, you’ve likely still heard of him - making tabloid headlines, usually in some altered state, seen alongside Kate Moss or Amy Winehouse. His Wikipedia page even has a separate section listing the substances he abused and the legal troubles he got into.

You might be wondering, “What’s Pete Doherty doing in a dad’s newsletter?”

Well, he just released a new album, and tucked inside it is a lullaby that caught me off guard - soft, tender, and strangely familiar. It’s been playing on repeat these past few days. Funny how a song can sneak in like that - right past the noise, straight to the heart.

The rumours are that Pete Doherty has been clean for years now. These days, he’s living a quiet life somewhere in Normandy with his wife and young daughter. That sounds about right. If you go by the number of mentions of apples, Calvados, and dreamy Norman landscapes in his recent songs, it’s safe to say he’s swapped late-night benders for country walks and cider. Not exactly the rock 'n' roll chaos of the Camden days - but hey, even wild hearts need a soft landing.

Becoming a dad changes a lot - more than you expect, and usually in the best ways. Even Pete Doherty, once the poster child for beautiful chaos, eventually found himself writing lullabies. I’m really happy for the guy. There’s something deeply human about seeing someone who’s lived on the edge trade it all in for bedtime stories and baby giggles. Parenthood has a funny way of softening the edges - and in Pete’s case, it seems like the music didn’t stop, it just got quieter, gentler… maybe even a bit sweeter.

I hope you're enjoying your week, dads.