Given this is the first music review I’ve put on here should let you know how strong I feel about this one. Music is even more intensely “personal” than film and narrative and my likes and dislikes are generally so niche that I don’t feel like addressing them with anyone.
This though? Felt strongly enough to put it down. For the first time in my life I have actually bought a musical issuance and deleted it. Thing is, i like the Arctic Monkeys…or “liked” as it were. They were kinda garage rock like when they first came out a decade and a half ago. Their music was raw, clean, aggressive, fun, British…very different than whatever rock was being played at that point in time. They were brash enough to carry real rock swagger with a touch of “dangerousness” to it. They were loud and didn’t particularly care if they were liked or no. A bit of Oasis, a bit of the Stones with a AC/DC.
So it was I went to purchase this album. Wow…written by the Monkeys’ “leader” Alex Turner the work is utterly and entirely garbage. Of course the “critics” loved it…old white guys left in print media are an unsurprisingly fawning audience as they refuse to be critical of any of their favorite idols…and certainly the Monkeys were once a favorite of those same journalistic hacks. Cited similarities to this work include those by Burt Bacharach. That’s not far off…you want boring elevator music to be lobotomized by? This is it. There is a real drum line or guitar work to be found here. Its snoreworthy crooning with repeating beats and rhythms. Its almost impossible to tell one song from another. You want to be a jazzy, old school, singer? Great…be Sinatra. This is what happens when a lead singer becomes so self involved he has no idea what got him where he is and thinks he provides value in self indulgent noodling. Just another example of the death of anything resembling rock in popular music.