Published on Mar 20, 2006
I heart buzz bands. There’s nothing like the
unbridled and, many times, unwarranted hype of British press to
catapult a band from obscurity to the limelight in an instant. Of
course, there are one of two outcomes to such praise, which is
tendered approximately 25 times each year: a) it really is the next
Sgt. Pepper’s, London Calling, Nevermind,
<insert life-changing record here> or b) it’s just OK.
Hot on the heels of hype-meisters like Franz
Ferdinand (overrated), Maximo Park (really overrated) and
Futureheads (underappreciated), Arctic Monkeys (rated below) are
next in what appears to be a long line of U.K. art- and dance-punk
revivalists. This worked for the Brit-pop genre in the 90s (neither
Oasis or Blur are overrated), but the Arctic Monkeys are filling
less of a void, what with all the Raptures, Radio 4s and !!!s that
have been around and acclaimed stateside for quite a while now.
It’s easy to dismiss the Arctic Monkeys as Libertines
knock-offs, and The Libertines, as the British version of The
Strokes, were just OK. But, there’s a strange draw to the record as
a whole, a draw larger than the handful of singles that propelled
the band to claim the No. 1-fastest-selling debut of all time in
the U.K.
It’s not the everyman lyrics that describe waiting
around to go to the club, hanging out at said club, getting hassled
by bouncers and getting some ass. The blue-collar tint of their
tales is endearing and the semi-skilled drum-and-guitar-lead tunes
become increasingly addictive with each listen.
I knew exactly what I was listening to until opener
“The View From The Afternoon” broke down to a guitar left-to-right
call-and-response of jangling practice-in-the-basement guitar that
shifts from channel to channel. Add a contemporary and poetic
chorus like “And she won’t be surprised and she won’t be shocked /
When she’s pressed the star after she’s pressed unlock / And
there’s verse and chapter sat in her inbox / And all that it says
is that you’ve drank a lot,” and you’ve got yourself a buzz
band.
While nothing has the hook of Ferdinand’s “Take Me
Out,” the record on the whole reserves a place in your mind,
whether you invite it or not. There’s a strange familiarity to the
LP, like the track “Mardy Bum” that strikes a similar tone and
tempo to Sublime’s “Santeria.”
Perhaps it’s the mundane content, heavy English
accent or difficulty putting a finger on the band’s influences that
makes the band so attractive. As the title suggests, it’s hard to
say what they are or are not. The U.K. hits “I Bet You Look Good on
the Dancefloor” and “When the Sun Goes Down” are two of the least
interesting tracks on the album.
Each song does include a chant-worthy chorus like
“Kick me out, kick me out” on “Fake Tales from San Francisco” or
“Bear that in mind tonight” from “The View from the Afternoon,” to
give it pop appeal. The signature is ramblings like the opening
verse to “From the Ritz to the Rubble” (“Last night these two
bouncers / And one of em’s alright / The other one’s the scary one
/ His way or no way, totalitarian”) that really makes an
impression: The Strokes fronted by Colin Meloy of The
Decemberists.
Artic Monkeys won’t stand any test of time beyond 12 to 18 months,
but they will carve their niche in a space of 2006 that indicates
they were here and inspired hundreds of thousands to check them
out. Essential if you heart buzz bands, and more than just OK.