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Bah, Humbug.

I got my hands on the new Arctic Monkeys album Humbug a couple of days ago. Since then, I’ve had a couple of listens, and here are some impressions.

My first thought was that Humbug definitely has a bit more weight about it than the earlier albums. Perhaps not keen to stick with the streetwise lyrics and furious showmanship of the two preceding albums, the Arctic Monkeys have put out a piece of work that exhibits a level of artistic maturity that to me is very welcome, but might alienate fans who fell in love with them with their debut album.

To me, it feels like a natural progression from Favourite Worst Nightmare, which at times took darker turns than one would have expected of a band that started life with the pop poetry of adolescence. No longer caught in that transition, Humbug embraces the Arctic Monkeys’ new, shall we say, world-view with quite some aplomb. There is drama to be found in the wicked characters, the cryptic and clever lyrics, and the inherent strangeness of this new album.

Certainly, the arithmetic, hook-based nature of their earlier work can scarcely be found here, and in its place is a clear attempt to produce a more cohesive album. Most tracks don’t come across as attempts to craft catchy singles. Instead, the entire experience has more layers and nuance than anything that they’ve ever done before. I will say that admittedly, no song quite hooked me in the way that some of their earlier songs did, but between a catchy three-minute ditty and a more well-balanced experience, I’d gladly pick the latter.

The album opens with My Propeller, which, compared to their last two outings, proves to be quite restrained, perhaps a sign of the recognition that there’s no longer hit the ground with something loud and flashy, or perhaps a declaration of intent, because it leads perfectly into the leading single Crying Lightning. A more cohesive album, as I was saying. Crying Lightning proves to be the perfect lead-in to an album with a dark and yet carnival atmosphere. The fuzzy guitar and unusual lyrics set the tone really quickly.

I remember thinking on my first listen that the two opening tracks also highlighted the band’s blossoming musicianship; and Alex Turner also showed that despite trading little street observations for darker, stranger things, he’s still quite capable of lyrics ranging from clever and oblique (“With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache/Stood and puffed your chest out like you never lost a war”) to the inventively crude (“My propeller won’t spin and I can’t get it started on my own/When are you arriving?”).

I really like Dangerous Animals. The lyrics are quite spot-on, the performance of the band is quite remarkable, and the spelling game makes it one of the catchiest songs on the album. It’s like an old Arctic Monkeys song infused with a little more maturity, a little more wisdom and a little more imagination. It takes a more poignant turn with Secret Door, which I must say has a fantastic melody. Potion Approaching then provides more of their impressive musicianship, although admittedly Fire And The Thud didn’t catch me.

Cornerstone is probably one of the most brilliant things they’ve ever done, or just a decent ballad that fills the space of Fluorescent Adolescent on this album, depending on which side of the fence you’re on. The lyrics are achingly good, the tune itself is beautiful, and Alex Turner’s ever-maturing abilities as a singer are on full display here. I’m pretty sure you could easily make a case for it being the strongest piece in Humbug. This is the way love songs ought to be done, and it’s moments like these that sets the Arctic Monkeys apart from their contemporaries.

Dance Little Liar didn’t do much for me, like it was always wanting to be more than it actually was. I have a feeling it’ll grow on me later though. Pretty Visitors, full of force and intensity, struck me as classically Arctic Monkeys. It is however tinged with the darkness of Humbug, evident in the imaginative lyrics. There is also a vicious sense of humour to be found here. (“Which came first?/The chicken or the dickhead?”)

The album ends with the evocative The Jeweller’s Hands, something of a punk-era Alice In Wonderland tune. It’s a fitting conclusion to an album that is in turns clever, dark, expansive and filthy.

Overall, it’s an interesting direction, and while it has its problems (mainly that some of the songs really didn’t seem to hook me), it’s great to see the band appearing to have less of a need to impress and more of a desire to produce something more artistically complete. As a result, it’s nowhere near as accessible as their earlier works, but it’s probably going to outlive either of their first albums. The Arctic Monkeys have always showed a love a classic film in their music, but this is the first time that they’ve stopped framing scenes and started putting together a motion picture.

Humbug is a very competent album, and quite the experience. It has some startlingly brilliant moments, and some humdrum ones too. And perhaps its greatest problem might turn out to be the band’s reinvention and the risk of alienating their fans. Artistically, it bodes well for the band. The sense of ambition suggests that even at this remarkable level, the best is yet to come.

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© 2009 a modest odyssey.