As this site will attest, I am a huge, huge admirer of the first two Arctic Monkeys albums. I still enjoy listening to their later stuff, but I get less crazy about it. Whether they lost their way or simply became something that interested me less, I can't say. (And the fact that I'm not willing to say explains why I am not yet being paid for my opinions.) But I believe, fundamentally, they are a good band, and can turn out a good song whenever called upon.
The debut single from their upcoming album hits the spot for me. Again, it's not a return to "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor." The motormouthed brattiness has aged into contemplative, unwinding statements that seem tempered by recreational pot rather than amphetamines (whether Alex Turner uses drugs, I don't know, but that's my metaphor.) The riff on this reminds me of Elbow's "Grounds For Divorce," which is fine because that song isn't really what Elbow sounds like anyway. This is a good slow groove, and instead of hitting you with a crash bang dynamite chorus, it works its way into your skin insidiously, begs repeat listens, tempts and teases.
Is the current permutation of the Arctic Monkeys, which has proven to be the band's lasting creative interest, more mature? More thoughtful, intelligent, savvy? Maybe but maybe not, maybe it's just slower and deeper and that gives it the illusion of learnedness. If so, it's an illusion I can buy into. Which is helpful, because even though this is not the Arctic Monkeys sound I fell for at first, it's one I can come to appreciate.
Unexpectedly, last month's Best Song Ever tournament had a beneficial outcome besides giving me a way to wring a few more drops of precious content onto this site. It caused me to start thinking about songs in a new way. What started as an idle exercise, the kind you do when you're a teenager hanging out in a basement ("Zeppelin or Who?") caused me to really think about these songs and what their respective merits were: what I wanted out of them, and what it means for one to be "better" than another. As I said last time, it's pointless to rant works of art and entertainment: ideally, they all succeed on merits that have nothing to do with each other. It's not a competition. Or at least, it's not supposed to be.
But it is. It's a competition for your attention, your interest, your passion. Every song you've got in your library is fighting with every other song to be your go-to tune. Every album vying to for that first position. Whether it's because of brilliant lyrics, catchy hooks, artful arrangement or nostalgic memories of a time and place (never take that out of the occasion) every song has something going for it against all the others.
These tournaments are obviously far from definitive, and there will always be a chance that the winners only correspond to "this day and time." That yesterday I might have put one song over the other instead. Indeed there are many close calls here, and as I'm writing this, several that I'm undecided about.
There are a couple of notable changes from last time, besides the fact that I've expanded out to 64 entrants (because I hate myself.) There are no duplicate artists: I wanted to get the playing field as wide as possible, so if an artist was selected by the randomized playlist more than once I simply chose which song of theirs I wanted in. No songs from last month's tournament were included either, for obvious reasons, although I would have included one that didn't make it out of the first round if it came up. Like I said, it's a random selection from my personal playlist, so there will be songs I have covered in the 2.5 years of SOTW, or intend to cover in the upcoming, as well as many great tunes you may or may not be familiar with, and random bits that either you didn't know I was into, or mean absolutely nothing to you. I hope some of the dialogue on these songs, even the losing ones, inspires you to check something out, because in general I think it's fair to say I don't listen to anything that isn't awesome. That's what makes it so much fun to do this, in the end.
It's always hard to pick these things, but the funny thing is that when the time came to crown last months' Best Song Ever, "Once in a Lifetime" by Talking Heads, I don't for a second doubt that it deserved it. "Behind Blue Eyes" maybe could have won, too, both were worthy opponents, but I wound up with a song that could genuinely be called the Best Ever. This tournament served its purpose.
I also learned not to post videos from songs that won, since hey, they'll still be around. So intermittently, we'll be taking a look at the songs that didn't win.
Oasis, "Wonderwall" vs. Arctic Monkeys, "From the Ritz to the Rubble"
I hate this tournament already.
I love the Arctic Monkeys. I do, and this song flipping rawx. Not to mention, "Wonderwall" is more than a little bit of a cliche, played out over the years to the point where it's shorthand for "douchey faux-sensitive acoustic guitar playing hipster." But I myself once made the argument that the song had indeed made its impact, and that cliches become cliche for a reason, and listening to it, or attempting to, with fresh ears, bears this out. Every inch of fame and infamy this song has, it's earned. It has a place in the culture that this particular Arctic Monkeys tune doesn't quite (although the album it's on certainly does.) This is enough to send Oasis through to the next round, but maybe not much further. We'll see.
Winner: "Wonderwall"
Aerosmith, "Hangman Jury" vs. David Bowie, "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)"
And now I really hate this tournament. Because it's so easy to say "Oh, this is a new Bowie, it hasn't had time to ingratiate itself, especially compared to this Aerosmith song." And don't let me be misunderstood, this is quite the Aerosmith song. This is Aerosmith channelling the bluesmen of yore and covering Lead Belly, with flourishes of the 80s pop-metal that they were peddling at the time to show why exactly they were so great at what they do, why they were allowed a type of comeback that few bands have ever pulled off in history of pop music. That slide guitar, that swampy vocal, that voodoo mystique... it all adds up to a handy explanation why I initiated a side-project extolling this band's virtues last year. Although Permanent Vacation, their 1987 comeback that featured this, was an imperfect album, this was a pretty perfect Aerosmith song.
But the new Bowie is a pretty goddamn riveting listen and this is one of the best songs on it. It's a searing, rage-choked indictment of celebrity culture, a piece of mini-drama that is a worthy addition to the Bowie canon. It's classic Bowie. It's excellent. And while the Aerosmith song looms large in my head, and maybe a year from now I won't be so hot on the new Bowie, I have to give it the nod.
Winner: "The Stars (Are Out Tonight)"
Hüsker Dü, "Something I Learned Today" vs. Black Keys, "Howling For You"
I could be cheeky and just pick the Black Keys so I don't have to use the umlauts on Hüsker Dü in future articles, but that's not a dealbreaker really. While "Something I Learned today" has that great, fiery garage punk lo-fi sound, "Howling For You" is a classic slow burn. Like the Oasis, above, it's become something of a cliche now, in ads and movies, but there's a reason why things become that way. Because they just flat out do something right. And The Black Keys became popular for all the right reasons. They were doing something nobody else was doing as well as they were.
Winner: "Howling For You"
Toadies, "Possum Kingdom" vs. Zeus, "Heavy On Me"
"Heavy On Me" is a pretty laudable song, but everything about "Possum Kingdom" is transcendently awesome. "Do you wanna die? / Do you wanna die? / Do you wanna die? / Do you wanna die? / DO YOU WANNA DIE? / DOOO YOU WANNA DIEEEE? / DOOO YA WANNA DIEEEEE???? / DOOOOOO YAAAA WANNNNAAAA DIEEEEE?!?!?!?!?"
Winner: "Possum Kingdom"
Arcade Fire, "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" vs. Black Lips, "Bicentennial Man"
Although not necessarily my favourite Arcade Fire song, "Neighborhood #1" contains all the elements that makes this band great: obscure, poetic, whimsical lyrics, unusual yet affecting instrumentation, a classic indie rock sensibility. Black Lips' psychedelic surf punk is pretty fun to listen to as well, and was one of the real finds of 2011. I am, however, unsure what if any connection this has to the Robin Williams film. Long story short: AF nearly went all the way last time, it looks like they might go even further this month.
Winner: "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)"
Beatles, "Happiness is a Warm Gun" vs. Death from Above 1979, "Blood On Our Hands"
As much as I love the raucous madness of DFA1979, this would be the Beatles' to lose. I happen to have a lot of affection for this White Album curio, which sort of embodies the whole spirit of the album.
Winner: "Happiness is a Warm Gun"
New York Dolls, "Personality Crisis" vs. Gary Clark Jr., "When My Train Comes In"
As I certainly don't get tired of pointing out, Gary Clark's guitar work is absolutely thrilling to listen to. As much respect as I have for the Dolls in the full flight of their mad glam days, I'm going with the new guy.
Winner: "When My Train Comes In"
Marble Index, "I Die" vs. Lissie, "Record Collector"
Here we have two competitors from the early days of SOTW: the intense conclusion to the Marble Index's first album, and the stellar opening to Lissie's. I took issue with it at the time, in the sense that it was a bit less raw than her live covers, but it suits her well, shows off her skills and her band.
Winner: "Record Collector"
Strokes, "Reptilia" vs. Sheryl Crow, "All I Wanna Do"
Perhaps the biggest mismatch of this entire bracket? I probably have an irrational love for "All I Wanna Do." It has a consummate 90s vibe, the idea of throwing your cares away and escaping to a dingy bar and meeting crazy characters and making observations. It's gentle fun. "Reptilia" is just as much a product of its time, a polished early-2000s "don't give a fuck" rocker. Everyone in the band is at their best in this one.
Winner: "Reptilia"
Hollies, "Bus Stop" vs. Rolling Stones, "Gimme Shelter"
I might be the only person who would even have to think twice about this one (the Hollies are underrated!) but I don't think I'm going to lose any sleep over it.
Winner: "Gimme Shelter"
Sam Roberts Band, "I Feel You" vs. Radiohead, "Let Down"
The best song off Sam Roberts' 2011 Collider album is, in its way, Radioheadlike, but maybe a bit more radio-ready, using a towering, inhuman riff to call for human compassion and interaction, with razor sharp, vaguely disaffected lyrics. "Let Down" is an excellent song, too, probably one of my favourites off OK Computer, with its languid, sedated, despairing tones... it sums up the joys of listening to Radiohead as much as "Paranoid Android" or "Karma Police."
Winner: "Let Down"
Nirvana, "Heart Shaped Box" vs. Clash, "Wrong Em Boyo"
The Clash's London Calling is a bewildering, great, varied, globe-spanning album that integrated punk rage into the voice of history and geography: "Wrong Em Boyo" is a ska experiment that tells the American folklore story of Stagger Lee. It's a pretty great song. But "Heart Shaped Box" is one of those quintessential Nirvana tracks for a reason, expressing all the angst and anxiety of love and parenthood (and childhood) in that brutal Cobain imagery. And it's got that great chorus.
Winner: "Heart Shaped Box"
Belle & Sebastian, "Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John" vs. Metric, "Black Sheep"
"Black Sheep" is Metric at the height of their powers, (right before people started hating them apparently?) with all the gripping, pulse-pounding synth-infused rock that entails. Brie Larson performs it as Envy Adams in one of the showstopping moments of the the Scott Pilgrim movie. "Little Lou..." is an intimate ballad where Stuart Murdoch duets with Norah Jones. It contains the line "What a waste, I could have been your lover / What a waste I could have been your friend." It never fails to kill me.
Winner: "Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John"
Exploding Hearts, "Sleeping Aides and Razor Blades" vs. Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Walk on the Water"
I think, first off, that CCR gets too little credit for their trippy, psychedelic funk exploits: Fogerty's voice in particular seems to carry a weightier, out-of-reality tone than the stereotypical "Looking Out My Backdoor" image people have of them. Nobody ever thinks of this song and I only first heard it a few years ago in the form of a cover by Richard Hell & The Voidoids. I bet this one was incredible live. However, in the last tournament, Exploding Hearts did pretty damn well with the brashness and charm, and this is my favourite song by them.
Winner: "Sleeping Aides and Razor Blades"
Led Zeppelin, "When the Levee Breaks" vs. Pixies, "Debaser"
The best Led Zeppelin song over 6 minutes, or an icon of 80s alt rock? Either way I lose. Or win, because I get to keep listening to awesome music no matter which way I go. As much as I approve of the Pixies' shout out to Un Chien Andalou, it's those John Bonham drums that keep me up at night. This is why Led Zeppelin is Led Zeppelin.
Winner: "When The Levee Breaks"
Walkmen, "Love is Luck" vs. Joel Plaskett Emergency, "Somewhere Else"
All due respect to the Walkmen and this very good tune off their 2012 album Heaven, but Joel Plaskett forever.
The key to this blog is that it's not music journalism. I'm not out there to provide commentary on all the latest music and keep up on the scene. This is really a personal blog, documenting my ongoing project to discover and rediscover great music. And given I spent a lot of the 2000s not paying enough attention to current music, that leaves a healthy gap to fill in, since, on my first pass, I largely missed out these bands. I knew of them, but didn't pay any attention. And now I'm here, learning how to talk about them.
In the case of both of these bands, I came around to them specifically for material for this blog. The Arctic Monkeys' debut, Whatever People Say I Am That's What I'm Not, was one of my favourite albums I listened to in the first half of the year. I got around to the Strokes' first album in the fall, but didn't review it because I felt like my comments would be limited to "This is excellent." (Okay, I probably could have done better, but I was more interested in talking about their latest album, Angles.) These two bands are often linked in my mind because they both delivered massive debut albums with a ton of hype, then provided a series of follow-ups with diminishing sales and praise.
Having to write a second album is the worst prospect in rock music, especially if your first one is a smash. There's the possibility you used up all your good stuff on the first go, the insurmountable fan expectations for "the same but more," and the paradoxical concern you'll just end up copying yourself. I think a lot of fans, in the back of their minds, root for the follow-ups to fail, to maintain the purity of the first album. Both of these offerings navigated these pressures simply by being awesome.
The first few tracks of Favourite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys are a bit like a hangover from Whatever People Say I Am: Wordy, observational, power-funk, bratty rock. There's the feeling, though, that as good as they are, they don't quite measure up to "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor," "The View From The Afternoon" or "From The Ritz to the Rubble." But they do have some points in their favour: Their sound is thicker and more powerful, indicating that the band has leveled up some. "Brianstorm" is a whirlwind, "D is for Dangerous" is an explosion and "Balaclava" edges the album toward its greatness with its nimble basswork. The lyrics haven't suffered none either, especially on the latter.
"Fluorescent Adolescent" is where the album really hits its stride, bringing in any easy-riffing shuffle that culminates in a circular, overlapping lyric that marries form and function (tastes great, less fat!) It and even moreso "Only Ones Who Know" provide evidence that the band has a heart on this album. While "Fluorescent" was sort of a new prospect for the group, "Only Ones Who Know" has a shimmering beauty and earnest vocal that was not hinted at on the earlier record. But enough about how this one compares. It takes on a spirit of its own from here on out. The watchword for critics is "maturity," and that's true, it does feel like the songwriting has broadened its eye without quite changing the topic (the dark underside of a good time.) "Do Me A Favour," "This House is a Circus" and "If You Were There, Beware" propel themselves on a basic urgency that never makes the band seem too carefree or lightweight. Things in these songs, all through this album, are not simple. The way the dizzying "Circus" transitions into the ominous "Beware" is a thing of beauty.
"The Bad Thing" is the next great track on the album: it's not that it distinguishes itself from the rest of the songs as much as I feel it is one of the best examples of what Alex Turner & Co do, setting a rhythm-n-shakedown up with a lyric about how taking off one's wedding ring to cheat "Won't make it / That much easier / It might make it worse." Its abrupt end takes you to the mesmerizing funk of "Old Yellow Bricks," with its lyrics suspicious of nostalgia. The closing number, "505," is one of the most outstanding songs on either album, beginning as it does with that whimpering, lonely vocal (reminiscent of "Only Ones Who Know" or the earlier "Riot Van,") but exploding into a driving classic rock number, at last unwinding into an uncoiled bass riff that leaves you hanging just that little bit.
Like Favourite Worst Nightmare, Room On Fire has a number of pleasures of its own. The album doesn't foresake the bleary-eyed Sunday morning hangover sound of its predecessor, but it does pump it up to almost cartoonish proportions, wonderfully, right from the start on "What Ever Happened," with its pulsating guitars and that razor-rasp vocal from Julian Casablancas. Julian has two modes: uninterested mutter and freaked-out howl, and he alternates between them perfectly: some songs are all one or the other, and the ones that are both are perfect. Take "Reptilia," the best cut on the album, with its jigsaw riffs that snap together perfectly and that urgent chorus, set against a rock-solid rhythm of bass and drum. Those first two tracks both provide a listening experience different from that found on the previous album. "You Talk Way Too Much," "Meet Me In The Bathroom," "The Way It Is" and "I Can't Win" bring the straightforward, strummy, glossy garage punk you want from these guys. I'm particularly interested in the way the vocals are mixed, fuzzy and distant, almost desperate not to be heard. On a few key tracks, they monkey around with genres, with ska-like cuts (as Is This It also had) and the nearly doo-wop "Under Control."
Meanwhile, "12:51" features some of the best guitar sound, with its sparkling pedal effect, and the next-to-last track "The End Has No End" combines every element I like about the band into one, serving as an awesome climax for the record ("I Can't Win" is the abrupt aftermath.) It's a really exciting listen, and the band really does benefit from the upsizing of their sound.
I may be the only one who cares or thinks about this sort of thing, years later. But as I've mentioned before, an album does not cease to exist because its timeperiod of release as passed on. Both these bands' discographies are still widely available and perfectly enjoyable. The reason I don't give star ratings, of course, is so I don't have to concede "Well, it's not the first album, so I knocked off half a point." I mean, what is that? Why would "different" mean "worse?" Or for that matter, why would "too similar" also mean "worse?" Both albums to some degree are similar to the previous, and to some degree different, and both provide incredibly enjoyable listening experiences.
I decided this would be a good case to try my hand at briefer reviews. I do love to ramble, but in some cases, for one reason or another, there's only so much I can add to the discourse about it. However, because I'm all ego like that, I still think what I have to say is as important as what's already been said. Or at least as important as anything else I say on this site. I picked up Whatever People Say I Am for the first time earlier this year, when I began re-examining a lot of the music I'd skipped over the past decade. I found that a lot of the contemporary reviews were problematic... either you're caught up in the hype, or you're caught up trying to diffuse the hype. Either way, it's less about the music than it ought to be.
The truth, as far as this music-loving a-hole is concerned, is that this album is worth every spot of ink it was splashed with on its release, and every "decade classic" notice it's gotten in retrospect. You could look at it as the culmination of the guitar revival of the mid-00's, as the early pre-In Rainbows high water mark for online marketing, but divorced from context, it's still utterly effective, barnstorming rock and roll.
It's all energy and show, rather than gazing inward at the self, sincerely or not, it looks outward at the world and presents what it sees. That's why it sounds so fresh, so lively, because it's heedless and reckless and caught up in the moment. The songs are so catchy, so blistering, that they keep me up at night humming them after two weeks of repeated listening, and they compete with each other for airtime in my head. Like anything they could be picked apart according to this criteria or that, but they hang together remarkably well so that if you like a couple songs, you love the album. This isn't art for art's sake, this is a fucking night out, no regrets in the morning. They do it all so naturally, it works so well, the band is like an organism.
The songs work within a niche together but don't repeat themselves too hard. The major repeating factors are the punk-funk guitars and motormouthed vocals with lyrics about nightlife, whether standing in line, spotting a chick across the dancefloor, learning when to call it a night or drinking somewhere you shouldn't. All of them, aside from the conspicuously low-key "Riot Van" are played either at blistering pace, or at swaggering tempo. Sometimes both interchangeably or simultaneously (neat trick, that.) They marry form to content so well the album becomes, in the words of some, an unofficial concept album. And in that capacity, it's better than most official ones. Without the trappings of narrative, it becomes a sort of Joycean everywhere thing. There's commentary here and there, such and a lot of character.
"I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" becomes one of the decade's best singles, with its insistent "bang-ba-ba-bang" outburst. It's supported by an album's worth of equal or better material. "Mardy Bum" for example, is the best song ever hooked around the phrase "cuddles in the kitchen," although I might have to double-check my research. It's all tossed off so casually, so naturally, you can buy into it, because they don't try to be badass or too cool for school. They present as a group of everydudes, who win some and lose some, and play with a self-accorded confidence in their ability, which sounds rock and roll enough for me. They also make the Northern English accent as cool as the American twang most bands sing in.
You can quibble all you want about its place in the history books, or about what it might all add up to, whether it means anything for society and what, but for me, as always, it begins and ends with a CD. And this is one bitchin' set of tunes.
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