In the blink of an eye, Arctic Monkeys captured the hearts and minds of an entire nation with their cheeky, zeitgeist-encapsulating anecdotes chronicling the overwrought nature of adolescence. Their debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, was the fastest-selling LP in British music history, and it wasn’t just because of the Brits affinity for all things northern and blue collar (although that didn’t hurt); no, these blokes, led by sardonic scribe Alex Turner, vividly navigated us through contemplative afternoons, past club queues, across the crowded dancefloor, and back again, all in the name of melodic, spot-on Britpop. They currently occupy the throne of ‘Biggest Band in Britain,’ withstanding countless insurrection attempts by a slew of sub-par sophomore efforts from various Britpop crusaders, with Kasabian, The Kaiser Chiefs, and Maximo Park posing the biggest threats.
Now, just a little over a year after the release of their stellar debut, Arctic Monkeys have set out to put any notions of a dreaded sophomore curse to bed with their follow-up, Favourite Worst Nightmare, and have enlisted the switchboard talents of Simian Mobile Disco’s James Ford (who recently produced Klaxons dazzling debut). Lyrically, Nightmare is a bit of a letdown as Turner and the lads far too often preoccupy themselves with spewing venom at their less-than-innovative contemporaries, thereby continuing down the rickety road “Perhaps Vampires Is A Bit Strong But…” off their debut, as well as their less-than-stellar EP, Who the F*ck Are Arctic Monkeys? The biggest offender in this respect is “This House Is A Circus,” a lyrically and rhythmically trite song declaring, “The more you open your mouth / The more you’re forcing performance.” “Teddy Picker” is also annoyingly vitriolic, but gets away with it on style, a la “Fake Tales of San Francisco.” Additionally, “D is for Dangerous” and “If You Were There, Beware,” lyrically, leave much to be desired.
However, the cunning lyricism of “Fluorescent Adolescent” almost entirely makes up for any and all missteps, as Turner paints a melancholic portrait of a disillusioned middle-aged woman harking back on the halcyon days of her youth as he hurriedly declares, “You used to get it in your fishnets / Now you only get it in your night dress / Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness / Landed in a very common crisis / Everything’s in order in a black hole / Nothing seems as pretty as the past though / That Bloody Mary’s lackin’ a Tabasco / Remember when you used to be a rascal?” This is an astounding, Jarvis-Cocker esque degree of insight for a 21-year old. Turner’s lyrical dexterity is further exhibited on the brutally sincere “Do Me A Favour” as he pleads with an ex to, “Do me a favour, break my nose,” as well as the gentle, heartwarming ballad “Only Ones Who Know.” Barn-burners “Brianstorm” and “Balaclava,” with their manic, galloping percussions (courtesy of the improved Matt Helders), are going to incite near-riots live, “Old Yellow Bricks” is like an acid-induced dream sequence come to life, and album closer “505” is another poignant ballad (though not nearly as impressive as the final track off their debut LP, “A Certain Romance,” which remains their greatest achievement).
Gone are the funky guitar arrangements and dirty dancehalls in lieu of a more prominent bass (thanks to the addition of new bassist Nick O’Malley) and somber meditations on love. Favourite Worst Nightmare won’t make you dance like a robot from 1984 (unless the robot in question is the depressed Marvin from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), but will foster repeat listens, and remains an impressive follow-up to their stellar debut.
--Marlow Stern
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