Berserk
What the fuck is Arctic Monkeys' second album like?
Since the decline and fall of the weekly British music press and the reduction of rock monthlies to glossy shopping lists, the discerning must look elsewhere for a broader pop narrative. I'm grateful for the eloquent Sasha Frere-Jones in the New Yorker, who, describing Artic Monkeys' debut album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Etc. as "delightful, fleet and rackety", managed to write an introductory capsule piece on "England's Next Big Thing" that actually got its facts straight about the band's viral beginnings. (More than many British writers can manage.) Meanwhile, a very good essay by David Smyth in the New Statesman branded them one of saleable indie's "firework bands", along with Bloc Party, Editors, Maximo Park, Hard-Fi; all, he noted, have been forced to produce second albums in short order to satisfy a market where fan loyalty is now as fickle as in pop. Early chart success = fireworks. And we all know what happens once they've gone off.
Arctic Monkeys exploded much closer to the sun than those other herberts - Whatever People Say I Am remains the fastest-selling British debut of all time, and their press file must weigh the same as a fifth band member - and we've already seen their popularity plateau off, with Leave Before The Lights Come On failing to reach number one last August and make it a hat-trick. Anyone who saw them rattling around in an arena on the last tour will understand why they actually prefer to put a ceiling on their expansion. (They have, however, sold out Lancashire County Cricket Ground this July - a nod, at least, to demand, although hardly enough to match the numbers who recently joined the lottery for tickets.)
They've always been prolific. Fans from the file-sharing days will have a bootleg's worth of older songs that never even made it onto the first album (Saying Goodbye To The Train Or The Bus, Choo Choo, Knock A Door Run - ah, what might have been). Thus, as difficult second albums go, Favourite Worst Nightmare isn't. At first listen (and I've been living with it now for a month, thanks to being asked to review it for Word, which is out in a week), it sounds faster and punkier, but that's not the whole story. It's actually more sophisticated. I won't go into too much detail about the songs (it's all in my review), but the fact that the album was largely written on tour doesn't mean the Alex has forgotten all about the taxi to High Green via Hillborough, please.
Teddy Picker is named after one of those fairground machines, and cheekily echoes the first album with a Duran Duran quote. It also acknowledges the prickly subject of fame: "the kids all dream of making it, whatever that means," and "who'd want to be men of the people when there's people like you?" Casual swearing still abounds ("Perhaps fuck off might be too kind"), as does the unreconstructed Yorkshire pronunciation ("tek" for "take", "alreyt" for "alright", "fick" for "thick" etc.). Right now, Fluorescent Adolescent, the next single surely, is my favourite. It's about a naughty girl gone domestic ("her bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco"), and is run on Smiths-style guitar. Turner's quest for romance is ongoing ("I hope you're holding hands by New Year's Eve"). The guitars do everything from grumble and bounce and flex to weep like the undersea sonar of a whale and conjure the theme tune to Knight Rider. No, really.
Favourite Worst Nightmare is fleet, rackety and delightful. I registered for tour tickets, but was unsuccessful. I was really hoping not to have to tap up the record company - we've always bought our own tickets in the past, and it feels good to do so. But did I mention: Arctic Monkeys are bigger than they really want to be? Read Tom Doyle's cover story in the new Mojo - best piece I've ever read about them, actually, due to Tom's innate skills at assimilating himself into a band's confidence with his easy Scottish manner. Perhaps the British music press isn't quite dead yet.
posted by Andrew Collins @ 9:41 AM
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I don't like the artwork. But awful artwork didn't stop the first record shifting a few copies did it?
Apostrophe mistake Andrew, I'm shocked!
Busted! (I've corrected it now, Anon, but you win. It just shows how vigilant me must be, even with ourselves.)
I think Brianstorm is what my parents would have decribed as 'a bloody row'. I must be getting old.....
I assume me should read we?
Pedantic of Staffs.
I can't get the comments thing up on my computer anymore, so I thought I'd write a few things while I'm on a computer that works!
I absolutely love Arcade Fire's second, and also The Good, The Bad & The Queen and Kaiser Chiefs both did great albums, so I was pleased to see you giving them the praise they deserve.
I remember a while back you wrote about seeing Kasabian live. I saw them not too long ago, and I thought they were absolutely fantastic.
Finally, I caught your last ever show on 6Music (the first one I've listened to because I can't get that at home), and so I was rather amused when you started saying about someone listening to it and enjoying it, before realising it was the last one! Cheers for now (till my computer gets fixed and I can read comments again), Aidan.
I'd argue that Chris Heath's 'Cocks Of The North' piece from December's Observer Music Monthly was as good as if not better than Tom Doyle's article. You might argue back at me that Heath isn't British (he's American I think) but it was a piece for "our" press. The fact that I have never understood what all the fuss is about for this lot is something I need to deal with as I must be the only person on the planet with this opinion!
I believe that Frere-Jones maintains his own blog where, no doubt, he peppers his posts with words such as "delightful, fleet and rackety" (I like his writing, honest, but did you read Bill Buford's profile of Gordon Ramsay from the April 2nd New Yorker? Sensational stuff!)
Nothing against Chris Heath, Glen (he is English, he's just spent many years out in the States), but I don't recall being captivated by that piece - and I've read them all. I know Tom, and he's a very laidback kind of guy, which is why I think they eventually warmed to him and trusted him. There are plenty of people who don't know what the fuss is about with the Arctic Monkeys. You're not alone.
Didn't know a) that Sasha Frere-Jones did a blog, or that b) he was a man. I thought the piece on Ramsay in the New Yorker was fantastic, although I didn't take kindly to Buford telling his readers how primitive British people are with a knife and fork! Not when American eat like the way they do, scooping stuff up, one-handed.
What I like about Frere-Jones is the way she/he gets so quickly to the point, and manages to weave great language into often short pieces.
Just for you is the Wikipedia link which gives you some background and a link to his blog...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sasha_Frere-Jones
Point taken on Buford but I guess when you've put yourself in the line of fire alongside English hooligans as he did for his seminal 80s work 'Among The Thugs', it buys you some leeway. I just don't know how those New Yorker writers do it: they often write on a subject we all think we know everything about but by the end of the piece, you're literally exhausted by the article's fresh approach.
Well it's Wednesday morning and I'm Hyper Link Hyper, but this one nails Sasha's gender firmly to the He Tree:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sasha_Frere-Jones
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