By Georgie Fleming
Arctic Monkeys’ alluringly experimental new album, The Car, leans into all the heart-wrenching absurdism of their previous work. Similar sonically to the elegant orchestration and avant-garde instrumentation of their album Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino (2018), this new album seems like a culmination of everything that the Arctic Monkeys sound has been working up to thus far.
Opening with the jazz-and-funk-influenced “There’d Better Be A Mirrorball”, plunges the album into an exploration of fame, disillusionment, and inescapable remnants of past love. The transitions throughout the album are subtle, creating lulls that allow for the progression of the slow-moving yet encapsulating arrangements.
In “Jet Skis on the Moat,” the synthy track mystifies abstract concepts using the same fantastical world-building seen in Tranquility Base. This track stands out as one of my favorites, conjuring the flavor of groups like The Smiths and The Velvet Underground.
Leading into “Body Paint,” the track’s sound transports back to the AM era—drawing parallels through a balance between glam-rock guitar and lethargic vocals as in “Number 1 Party Anthem” (2013). In its most literal track, Turner describes someone “so predictable” that he knows “just what [they’re] thinking,” adding ironic commentary on his abstraction of love and relationships on the rest of the album.
While The Car’s sound is a far-cry from the headbanging Favorite Worst Nightmare (2007) or Whatever People Say I Am (2006), its lyrics feel close to the band’s roots with a visible maturation of style. It reflects Alex Turner’s sense of paranoia and anxiety towards the band’s growing fame since being thrust into the spotlight following AM’s 2013 release.
Another glamorous love song, “Hello You,” hones in on The Car’s nostalgia for a different era while opening a new, even more elusive chapter. The Car’s unpredictable duration leans into its film soundtrack essence, ending its 40 minute run with the profound, “Perfect Sense.” The Arctic Monkeys have struck with another enticingly obscure album.
4/5
