You’ve grown your hair and want to make a bitching rock record. Who do you call? Arctic Monkeys tell Stuart Clark about their remarkable journey from Sheffield to the Mojave.
Hot Press is delighted to be hosting the live Arctic Monkeys web transmission, which is taking place tonight at 9pm and finds them showcasing tracks from their sensational new Humbug album.
Arctic Monkeys are flippant purveyors of raucous, Libertines-inspired pop, who like to maintain a cool, reserved and sarcastic demeanour. All well and good, except that this concert requires a greater sense of occasion.
They may refuse to play the media game, but whether it’s dating page three models, accepting awards dressed as the Village People or earning the ire of Keith Richards, there’s never a dull moment in the world of Alex Turner and Arctic Monkeys.
Well now, what kept them? Gone are the days when the Stone Roses would take an age to follow up a groundbreaking debut. Instead the Arctic Monkeys return in less than a year. Good to have them back and all that, but maybe they could have done with a bit longer. The breakneck pace of ‘Brainstorm’ certainly suggests a band in a hurry, yet, if we can be frank for a moment, the tune itself isn’t much cop. You might think this precludes the Monkeys from bagging ‘single of the fortnight’. Such is the sheer ubiquity of the track, however, we’ve decided to bend our house rules a little. Because, whichever way you look at it, ‘Brainstorm’ is the most important record to fetch up on our singles pile lately. And so the gong goes to the urchins. Still, we’re expecting better things from the new album.
Sheffield’s favourite sons return to bridge the gap between their phenomenal Whatever People Say I Am ... debut and their as-yet-unrecorded second album. When it’s released, that record will need to have a lot more tricks up its sleeve than this single. On the first listen it seems to have all the ingredients in place. Alex Turner’s wry tale of waking up beside someone you don’t fancy after a night out, the uber-tight rhythm section and the angular guitar are all vintage Arctic features. Despite this, the song seems to fall flat, never threatening to reach the heights of their previous singles.
They blasted into the public consciousness at the end of 2005, when 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor' became the year's biggest breakthrough No.1. Since then it's been an extraordinary rollercoaster ride for the Arctic Monkeys, with bass player trouble, celebrity fans, EastEnders appearances and a row with fellow newcomers The Feeling to show for their efforts. Oh, and then there's the small matter of shifting nearly two million copies of their debut album...
If not reinventing the wheel, Arctic Monkeys are certainly giving the spokes a good polish. Stuart Clark takes his place in the moshpit for their recent Dublin show.
By now you’re probably aware that Arctic Monkeys really are as good as everyone’s making out. If you’re still sceptical, then just give ‘When The Sun Goes Down’ a whirl.
Confident, edgy, intelligent, witty – this is a record to get genuinely excited about. With a nod to Pete Doherty, front man Alex Turner drops observations on the seedier sides of life. In particular, he has a knack for breathing life into the characters he sings about. Like The Libertines, there’s a dark romantic undertone throughout. Impressive as previous singles ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor’ were, this is a great leap forward. The fact that Turner is still in his teens merely adds to how exciting their future looks. What a band.
Officially the hottest band of the moment with phenomenal sales of their debut album in its first few days of release, the Arctic Monkeys stole the show at the second date of the NME tour.
With their debut single 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor' zooming to no.1 in the UK, Arctic Monkeys ended 2005 on a high. They are destined to be the new band of 2006.
So much has been written, spoken and, most importantly, blogged about Arctic Monkeys that it’s difficult to believe this is their debut album. The four piece’s incredible rise is, in the main, due to a Libertines-esque use of the Internet to spread their gospel without ever straying far from Sheffield.
Not wishing to put myself or my colleagues out of business, but some records simply do not need a written description. All you really need to know about the Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Fake Tales Of San Francisco’ and its withering look at music biz wannabes is that it contains the line “his bird thinks he’s amazing so all that’s left is the proof that love’s not only blind it’s deaf". That should say it all. Still, we get paid by the word, so I feel duty bound to inform you that this is one of the most razor-sharp, witty and memorable records you’ll hear this year. It’s also entirely fitting that the Monkeys should come from Sheffield, as they slot nicely into the region’s penchant for producing biting, intelligent alternative pop music ("you’re not from New York City you’re from Rotherham” could have come straight out of the Smiths’ songbook), presented with in such a knowing manner that you’re reminded of Mike Skinner fronting the Fall. Their fleeting Irish debut may have been and gone, but we’ll know what to do next time.
