Arctic Monkeys made their Irish debut in Whelan’s when they’d barely released their first single, ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’. When they played it second in the set, I remember thinking: “This is a foolhardy move, peaking so early.” Yet it turned out to be a masterstroke, as the following hour convinced all present that however great it was, it was far from their best song. Here was a band who really had the attitude and the swagger down pat, but more importantly, they had the tunes to back it up. On their fifth album, the Yorkshire quartet prove that the sense of adventure that marked those early gigs hasn’t deserted them.
While it might have been easy to churn out variations on their scintillating debut, the intervening years have seen Arctic Monkeys veer off the beat poet path, via-desert rock and ‘60s-ish psychedelia. At the same time, Alex Turner has morphed from the cheeky northern chap with the acerbic tongue lodged in his cheek to a swaggering rock frontman par excellence. With AM, it seems they’ve merged their classic rock influences with a sassiness that feels perfectly at ease in their adopted home of LA.
Album opener, ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ is a perfect introduction to Arctic Monkeys Mark III. Slinky and sleazy, it’s slower and sultrier than anything they’ve done heretofore, and after a couple of listens, it worms its way into your grey matter with the subtlety of a seductress and the staying power of a barbed fish-hook. By the time Turner invites you to “Simmer down and pucker up”, resistance is futile.
‘R U Mine?’ is equal parts Black Sabbath and Queen. The drums crash and clatter with ferocious abandon, the riffs rev up like Tony Iommi, and yet there’s a dramatic Vegas-style flourish that harks back to the ghost of Mercury rising. Similarly, ‘I Want It All’ sees Turner doing his best Marc Bolan impression, the pulsating, throbbing ‘Snap Out Of It’ is like Jack White jamming with The Bee Gees, and ‘Arabella’ takes the raw power of ‘War Pigs’, stirs in some Bowie swagger and sprinkles on some west coast G-funk sleaze.
Stunning ballad ‘No.1 Party Anthem’ is proof positive that Alex hasn’t lost his ability to compile couplets that can stop you in your tracks and take your breath away with their ability to cut through the dross that passes for lyrics in 99 percent of pop songs. “It’s not that I’m falling in love, I just want you to do me no good, and you look like you could,” he confesses, sounding like late period John Lennon, circa ‘Just Like Starting Over’.
The Monkeys’ new VBF, Queens Of The Stone Age head honcho Josh Homme guests on two tracks, the Prince-lite of ‘One For The Road’ and the delicious disco of ‘Knee Socks’, while former Coral man Bill Ryder-Jones plays guitar on the galloping ‘Fireside’. Gorgeous album closer, ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ sees the Monkeys getting all soulful with John Cooper Clarke’s poem. It’s as warm, fuzzy and honest as Fozzie Bear under the influence of a truth serum.
‘Mad Sounds’ maybe veers a little close to easy listening, and shows that Turner can reinvent himself as a lounge crooner in years to come, should the need arise. However, the infectious soul swagger of ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High’ proves that, while he may have grown up, maturity is thankfully still a ways away.
Arguably their finest collection since their debut, for Arctic Monkeys, getting older in public has rarely sounded so good.

KeyTrack: 'No. 1 Party Anthem'