"What do you expect for £25?" The Libertines Reunion - Hackney Empire, April 12th 2007

Did you know that One Direction have their third autobiography out in time for Christmas? I watched a brief news clip of semi-pubescent girls screaming and crying, whilst Harry with his hairspray hair et al, bowled into a room waving the book in question. I mean, can it get any worse? Is there a clearer insult to British music than these clowns having a third, successful book out? It is apparently called "Where We Are" and documents, well you guessed it. 

What can these cocky, little gobshites actually have to tell us that is insightful or has any meaning? "I was a mouthy little prat at school, then some record company bigwig saw that I could dance and sing at the same time without falling over. The rest, thanks to the terrifying state of modern music, is history."


As such, I wanted to talk about a night that had all the beautific, poignancy for me as some of the greatest shows of the modern era. U2 at Slane Castle, Oasis at Knebworth, The Led Zep reunion all had great significance, as did Peter Doherty and Friends at the Hackney Empire on April 12th. Granted the title does not have the same tub-thumping wow-factor but for a small and hardcore following, the planets aligned to perfectness, for just one night only. 

This was Peter's second night at the Empire, Hackney being his spiritual home since the fall out the drugs, the 'shambles etc. The first night he had performed, duetting mainly with Alan Wass and Burt Jansch before being joined by the likes of Kate Moss (his then girlfriend), The General and rapper Lethal Bizzle for an eclectic set.  

The buzz surrounding the second night was that their could, potentially, be a Libertines reunion on the cards. This would have been the first reunion since the problematic split of Carl and Peter in late 2004 and something of course fans still pine for, even as we move into 2014 (for the record - the pair have not been in contact for at least 6 months sadly). 
I was holding my breath and a rather inebriated Wass, regaled us with stories in the pub behind the venue in the lead up to the show. He also performed a few tracks with the enigmatic frontman in the first half of the set, while one of Peter's many 'friends' painted a large, swirling picture as the music played beside him on stage. Quite bizarre. 

The crowd were of course seated and well behaved, but the acoustic show tranquillity was beginning to grate on me and I headed to the bar for further lubrication. I remember Peter tuning his acoustic guitar, before announcing to the crowd, "You have been waiting for this moment. Carlos Barat!" Cue a cacophony of screams and cheers as people got to their feet and made their way to the stage. Sadly though, Peter was just jesting, or so it seemed. "What do you expect for £25?" joked Peter, who despite the fuggy haze of addiction, is always able to pull out a dry quip when required. 

A moment passed, then from the left-hand corner of the stage, Carl Barat sauntered on wearing a rather dapper Dior Homme suit and a grey trilby, much to the elation of the Hackney crowd. It was like watching an Old-Beatles video, people climbed over one another, forgetting theatre protocols to snap on their phones and be part of this moment in British music history. 

One thing of note, was that as soon as Carl arrived there was a bond, bonhomie (call it what you will) between the artists that unfortunately has not been witnessed since. They were glad to do this ad-hoc show and it most certainly showed in the setlist that followed. Armed with just two guitars, but a theatre full of adoration and good will, they ripped through a set, comprising a number from 'Legs 11' and 'Up The Bracket,' with only 'What Katie Did' (a song Carl wrote for Peter) making it from their latter material.  

 The set list played was: 

'What A Waster'
'Death On The Stairs'
'The Good Old Days'
'What Katie Did'
'Dilly Boys'
'Seven Deadly Sins'
'France'
'Tell The King'
'Don't Look Back Into The Sun'
'Dream A Little Dream Of Me'
'Time For Heroes'
'Albion'
'The Delaney'

The songs were purely fan favourites and it showed how much, the pair wanted or even needed to play them after two or more years in the wilderness. Lets not forget, these two were the future of British music. They saved us from Oasis and derivative, dull, coke-addled British rock tripe. They were genuine, they cared and tonight that was all that mattered. 

It was a night of romance and nostalgia. Carl tap-danced his way through 'Dream a Little Dream...' 'Seven Deadly Sins' was played with heart and soul, 'The Good Old Days' felt rather than an ode to regret, a paean to a new future. A song of hope. 

Peter and Carl disappeared after an emotional 'Albion' a song rumoured to have been featuring on the third Libs album, before the band famously imploded. They returned for a raucous version of 'The Delaney' as the crowd jumped and danced wildly as if it was 2002 all over again. 

Finally, Peter and Carl left the stage arm in arm, triumphant, with the world once again at their very feet. A buoyant, jubilant crowd raced around to the back of the venue, where the boys continued the show, with an acoustic version of 'Cant Stand Me Now,' the crowd outside now a good 300-strong all singing along in fine fettle. Kate Moss made an appearance at the window smiling; the world as they say, was at one. 

The night was of course beautiful because it signified hope. Like Gatsby's 'orgiastic future' represented by the green light, The founding Libertines ,arm in arm, beer in hand, representing that perhaps all rock n' roll feuds, no matter how bitter, can be overcome. 
Sadly to this day, we still wait for the long-term reunion the fans want. We are now knocking on the door of 2014. Peter lives in Paris and with Babyshambles returning triumphantly with 'Prequel...' it still seems unlikely. It appears that both parties have ruled out another money-spinning summer like 2010, but while there is still fire in Carl's belly and breath in Pete's lungs, there is a green light, a hope that The Good Old Days, may yet return.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vxBzBRRFue8&list=PLDC251087FB3BC261

The Band are on, grab the FT! Bon Jovi, Hammersmith Odeon - 1990

The concept of Born with Bass was the idea of documenting my life through music. You can document a life in many ways I suppose. Nights out, trips to Tesco, holidays...but I wanted to share the bands I have seen and more importantly, the experiences I have had at the gigs I have been to. The people I met along the way provide stimulus for character and the two hours traffic of the stage supply entertainment enough surely? But I doubted myself and thought, 'Who really cares about the gigs I have been to?' and put the idea aside for a number of years. Until recently that is and a wise old owl said to me, 'But who are you writing it for?' That is a good question and one I am still not sure I know the answer to. Either way, I hope you enjoy reading Born with Bass- dedicated to my long time love affair with music.

My father took me to my first rock concert when I was nine years old. January 10th 1990 was the date and the band was Bon Jovi. Half way through the New Jersey Syndicate Tour (a lengthy affair which led to the band's hiatus in 1991), this was a charity gig in aid of the Nordoff Robbin's Foundation. Of course all of this went over my head; I was nine years old. But I did own all of the Bon Jovi VHS and my battered tennis racket is testament to the fact, I wanted to play guitar in a rock n' roll band.  

I knew the words and the air guitar chords off by heart. I was mesmerised by the shaggy mops of hair and the different faces in the crowds. It was a completely new world to me, one far away from north-west Kent and what it had to offer. I mean, in one of the videos (Livin' on a Prayer), Jon Bon Jovi flies. Actually flies. At the precise moment in time that the song kicks in (wooaaahhh were half way there..!) and the black and white video turns spectacularly to glorious technicolor, Jon Bon Jovi takes to the air and flies across the audience. This was the life and I wanted in.

I remember little of the train journey to London but I do remember we took a black cab from wherever we arrived to the destination, Hammersmith Odeon. I had never been in a black cab before and it was again a world of excitement and allure (why was there so much space? It's nothing like the Ford Escort...) We arrived, my Dad exchanged some notes with the driver and there it was in front of me, the rock n' roll venue. Now, I don't know how many people remember the Hammersmith Odeon, but it wasn't very rock n' roll at all. I was hoping for the stadium and arenas the Mr. Jovi had shown me in those videos. After all, he had seen a million faces and rocked them all, where were they all now? 

Hammersmith Odeon was an old sixties style cinema, more in need of a facelift than a night of unadulterated rock n' roll. Put it this way, the smaller, 'intimate gig' was lost on me at my tender age. I wanted pyrotechnics and strobe lighting. Still, there were BBC trucks surrounding the venue - there must be something worth filming right? I still to this day do not know why they were there, my Dad scoured the TV pages for months after the show to no avail. He even made me write a letter to them to find out if it was going on telly; I never received a reply. But it didn't matter, we were about to see the boys live.

So we got in and I was very concerned that this wasn't just going to be a recording of my heroes, as the Hammersmith Odeon seemed more suited to popcorn-throwing than rock star posturing. But what did I know? I was only nine. We found our seats, a stone's throw from the stage and sat down waiting patiently for the band to arrive.

When they finally did, it was to rapturous applause and noise I had never heard before. Girls were screaming, men were screaming, I was crying and couldn't quite believe Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora, were literally a few feet away from me. They started off with an acoustic set but ripped through some 23 songs on the night, a number of them covers of old classics.  

Sadly at my tender age, cover songs of The Supremes and Dylan were a little lost on me, but it made the Jovi songs all the more special. It was around forty-five minutes in that the full band were introduced and went electric. Cue again, mad screaming with this time, a vivid fear rising through my body.

Now I was an oddly-shaped youth. Come to think of it, I am an oddly-shaped adult, but it was more accentuated then. A big lad, all arms and legs. I had massive hands and feet and my parents used to affectionately call me a Labrador puppy as I grew up. As the rabble rose, how I wish I had the reflexes of said puppy to sprint out of the seats and into the relative safety of somewhere quiet.

People at this juncture often say to me, 'Oh yeah, it must have been really loud at your age?' And yes, yes, it was really loud, like uncomfortably loud. However, it was the feeling that really affected me. Like Godzilla and King Kong were backstage having a tear-up, a feeling buzzed through the room, through my seat and through my soul. That ladies and gentleman, was bass.

I turned to my father, like a child frightened. What am I saying? I was a child frightened! It suddenly dawned on me, my mother was right. I was too young to go to a rock concert. My Dad looked at me and smiled and assured me all was fine. I wasn't reassured, I was scared. I felt surrounded by danger. And I guess this was it for me. Because the seed was planted and I had seen a life I had never witnessed before. I looked around at the joyous faces and I started to believe that everything would be all right. 'No Trevor! You are too young, your eardrums might BURST!' Oh my god, fear again. Will this night ever bloody end?

I looked again at my father. He was now reading a paper and smoking cigarettes, (this is no joke he actually sat there and read a paper). Then I felt a warming hand on my shoulder and turned around quick as a flash, to see a long-haired chap smiling down at me. 'It's ok, relax, enjoy yourself!' He had a look that suggested he had been exactly where I was before, he knew my pain. He too wondered once, why the music was so bloody loud! He calmly turned his attention back to the music and the gesticulating lead singer on stage.

I slowly began to remove my hands from my ears. It was an epiphany, a cacophony of noise and sounds that all somehow were beginning to make sense. Every fibre of my being was telling me to run, that this was not...sensible. But I was beginning to feel the warm, comforting hands of live rock n' roll and was in the process of being converted.

The rest of the gig was a bit of a blur. I am pretty sure the bassist at the time, Alec Jon Such, looked at me and smiled but apart from that it was just a beautiful din and I left the venue a sweaty, over-excited mess.

God only knows who that guy was. Maybe it was the human incarnation of the devil securing my move to the dark side, ensuring I chose eternal damnation instead of turning back to the comfort and safety of everything I knew. Whoever he was, I thank him. 

I learnt a few things from the show. The main thing was that I liked rock n' roll. I was terrified and attracted by the music in equal measure. It was like Stockholm Syndrome; I was intrigued and needed to learn more.

I have got to thank my Dad for taking me and getting me involved, God rest his soul. Most people thought he was mad to take his child to a rock n' roll concert, but he planted a seed (and yes it was only Bon Jovi, thankfully my music tastes have changed) and it was a start. As for the newspaper...I suppose I can forgive him. I am not many years from being dragged to some derivative, drivelly, pop pin-up myself. However, another thing I have learnt, is no matter how 'above' the music I am or how much of a cool Dad I want to be; I will be sure to leave the paper at home.

Sequel To The Prequel - Babyshambles

"In the half light, you're looking all right," croons a reinvigorated Peter Doherty on the Babyshambles third and most recent offering. They are looking all right too; this is a mature and accomplished piece of work from a band renowned for sporadic genius and woeful failure. 

It's been five years since the band have produced any new material and it is largely thanks to bassist, Drew McConnell, for getting the group back into gear. A motorcycle accident spurred an epiphany for the young man, who wrote a number of the tracks for the record, the first time since the Libertines era that Doherty has shared song writing credits. 

The album blasts into life with the frantic 'Fireman,' a song that has been around for a little while and clocks in at under two minutes. If proof was needed that the 'Shambles had not gone soft, this is it. A Pistol-esque punk offering where Doherty spits, "it's breakfast time, drink a pot of wine, sucking on a bone, chewing on a microphone," suggestions here that the frontman is still deeply engrained in the rock n' roll lifestyle which has stolen a number of the headlines in recent years.

Saying this, Doherty does leads a slightly less madcap lifestyle and spends a lot of his private time with his new girlfriend painting and playing solo gigs. This is not to mean his troubles are over. At the band's recent show in Manchester, they only played for one hour (a bit of a cheek given the £25 ticket cost), and members of the group had to coerce the singer to return to the stage numerous times.

Despite this, the rest of the tour has been well received by fans and on the whole the band have been in fine fettle. It is reported Mick Whitnall is now clean, quite an achievement for the guitarist who has been Doherty's creative right-hand man for a number of years. The album itself is a melange of different contributions; this is not Doherty's work, it is a quite the collaboration and the band lose little for it.

The lead single, 'Nothing comes to Nothing' is a sugary pop-tastic slice of fun. Doherty's harmonies and major chords lead the way but ultimately I would argue this is a safe number in the same vein as 'Kilimanjaro,' designed primarily for the radio but lacking the punch of a 'Can't Stand Me Now' or 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun.'

That being said, there is nothing wrong with the maturation of a band. I mean we can't be 21 forever and a lot is made of bands 'selling out' and going soft. The truth is, there is a great deal of quality on this record. The band do have a pop producer in Stephen Street who manages to hone the 'Shambles sound, whilst still retaining a lot of the authentic quality.

'Picture me in a Hospital' is a glorious homage to Drew McConnell's post-accident blues and borrows a little stylistically from the poignant single 'Beg, Steal or Borrow.' 'Farmer's Daughter' is as close to a stadium rock anthem as you are going to get on the album with the singer belting out 'he knows where his daughter goes' an allusion to a life less ordinary and one Doherty certainly has the expertise to sing about.

However, it is the middle of the album that truly excels. Previous album 'Shotter's Nation' was oozing filler ('Deft Left Hand' and 'Crumb Begging Baghead' spring immediately to mind), but 'Sequel...' surpasses its predecessor by having a core of powerful, standout tracks throughout.'Maybelline' is an upbeat footstomper (not a make up jingle), while 'Fall from Grace' ebbs and flows, telling a story of our protagonist and his inevitable pitfalls. 

'Penguins' is a quirky love song, where Doherty muses about zoo animals "we could see penguins, yeah penguins are great" before bursting into a rock no roll chorus with the immortal line, "I really don't like your boyfriend's face and I think I am going to try and take his place." 

Stand out track and live favourite is 'Seven Shades' which is again an upbeat, powerhouse of a tune, this time our singer waxing lyrical about the haters who condemn his debauched lifestyle. "What’s it like on the moral high ground?" He asks, before deciding, "judging by your face I'm glad I never asked, step outside the bar and kick seven shades of shit out of you." Powerful stuff, if a little tongue in cheek, yet on the contrary it's the late night boozy feel of this album that makes it such a roaring success. The title track is a tribute to Doherty's (and indeed The Libertines) jazz/swing roots and is another highlight of the album. Piano-led and laced with whisky and melancholy, this is a wonderful nod to the Legs 11 era and shows the band's immense diversity and ability to write poignantly in a variety of styles. 

The album closes with 'Minefield,' a slow builder which moves away stylistically from anything the band have previously released.  From pin drop quiet to screeching guitars, the song is a fitting end to what is a triumph of a third record. Doherty pines, "my mind is on the run" in the outro and don't we know it. Yet the unifying force of Drew's will with Peter's undeniable talent has given fans a renewed sense of hope.

And yes, perhaps in the back of all our minds there is a utopian future where Carl and Pete forget the numerous tragedies and fallouts of the past and get to work on a third Libertines offering, but this is the real world and in it we have tangible testimony that Potty Pete has not lost all of his marbles just yet. 

You can catch Babyshambles on the second leg of their UK and European tour throughout October and November. 

8/10

Yeezy Thesis/Yeezus- Kanye West

Kanye West wanted to create an album that was entirely his own beast; without an eye on media representation or a hit single. He has done this, but in the meantime created a rap masterpiece, a raw yet cerebral, futuristic fusion of the genre and it's artistry.

Most opinions of Kanye West come from a largely ignorant standpoint. People think of the boasting, drinking, MTV Award hollering and judge the artist unfairly. For what it's worth, a majority of the negative publicity is borne of Kanye's frustration as an artist, but more of that later on. As such, it is pleasing to see Zane Lowe's interview currently being shown in four parts, this week on Radio 1. If you missed it, catch it up; it is compelling viewing. For the first time I can remember, we see an honest interview portraying West as the artist and game-changer he is.
When discussing rappers, Kanye exclaims 'we are the new rock stars and I am the biggest of all of them.' Taken out of context, this sounds like bragaddichio as exhibited on the indulgent collaboration with Jay-Z, 'Watch The Throne.' The reality is that the man has a point. Let's take it back for a minute and look at Kanye's extensive catalogue. The College Dropout is a seminal album of it's time, spawning hits such as All Falls Down with its intelligent, social comment and tongue in cheek look at 'modern rapper style', not to mention the classic Through The Wire, literally sung 'through the wire' after a near fatal car crash. Graduation was indeed a coming of age in the commercial rap world, producing classics such as Stronger with Daft Punk and the vitriolic Can't Tell Me Nothing, with its fuck you sentiment. 808's and Heartbreaks is a mournful, beautiful record, written in the wake of his mother Donda's death and the failure of his relationship with Alexis Pfifer. Love Lockdown and the honest appraisal of stardom in Welcome to Heartbreak, prove the standout tracks on another awesome offering. Then followed My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, possibly the greatest rap album of our generation, defying genre and taking us deep into the mind of a tortured artist.

The point is that Kanye West has serious pedigree. This is a man who knows his art and will not be bent into any shape by suit wearing yes men or label execs and that is really the defining and dominant theme of Yeezus. This is an artist doing what he wants for the demons in his own headspace. A rapper answering to no-one except the strict rules he sets himself. 'Fuck you and your corporation, y'all niggaz can't control me,' he spits on the first single New Slaves. And this isn't rap star bullshit; you really can't. Yeezus received little to no airplay. Kanye insisted on zero artwork or copy for the album's release. Nothing official came from the label, just talk and more talk across the internet of what the Steve Jobs of rap had next up his sleeve. Kanye's promo was controlled by himself and included New Slaves being broadcast on building walls across a variety of cities around the world. Hardly a corporate stunt to pull in more punters, the video consisted of a close up of the rapper singing the song. That's it; the music did the rest of the advertising.
Needless to say, Yeezus went straight in at no.1 in the US and UK charts, proving the man who everybody loves to hate, is certainly causing an interest and a stir. Yet what people got upon first listen was an animal not to everyone's liking.

As stated, the lead single was New Slaves, which is an ascerbic and powerful anti-corporate message, brutalised over a metronome beat. Kanye's flow is as raw as it has been here, but lyrically it contains a powerful and serious message. 'My Mama was raised in an era when clean water was only served to the fairer skin,' is the first line and acts as a fitting curtain opener to Kanye's angst on this record. He goes on, 'See there's broke nigga racism that's that don't touch anything in store. Then there's rich nigga racism that's that come in please buy more,' West here taking a ferocious look at how the marketing world uses its subjects. Then his rage turns towards the consumers who are indeed the New Slaves in question 'what do you want a Bentley? Fur coat? A diamond chain? All you blacks want all the same things!' Deep and powerful stuff from a man renowned for lavish production, but one of the key things about the song and album is the stark and somewhat bleak production values. This is all about the lyrics and the sentiment. Kanye is seething at the lack of creativity around him and is letting the world know. Towards the end of the song Kanye's tirade reaches its crescendo and the song completely changes tone into an orchestral, string laden finale where he sings 'I can't lose, so let's get too high again' over and over again.

One of the defining features of Kanye's later works is the ability to change the beat, tone, tempo of the track at any stage and give it another layer of emotion and depth. There is no better example than On Sight, the album opener. It commences with a loud, distorted soundscape before seguing into a fast-paced electronic beat, where Kanye purrs 'Yeezy season approaching, fuck whatever y'all be hearing.' Quite right, yet normally with the modern rap bragging one doesn't tend to believe the hype; with Kanye there is no hype, just fact and brilliant songs to back up the madness. After a frenetic 1 and a half minutes, a sample of a children's choir appears for about 20 seconds before the song resumes with just as much vim as it began. Haunting and once again quite brilliant.

If there was a radio-friendly unit shifter on Yeezus, 'Black Skinhead' would be it. It begins with tribal drums and heavy breathing but has a funky beat and fast-paced rap that keeps the song moving and one for the stadium posturing for sure. 'Middle America packed in, came to see me in my black skin,' Kanye knows his target audience and believes the Yeezus tour may well be the fastest selling in American rap history and that is the point. He is not bound to the rap genre or defined by it. As such his market appeal is huge and his shows are as likely to be attended by young black men as middle aged white ones and Kanye knows it.

A song that has courted much controversy is the embryonic I am A God. Focusing on the music, it is a mid-paced nod to the Chicago House scene, layered with primal screams and heavy breathing during parts of the track. Despite following no real structure, the tune is still compelling and despite for me being one of the lesser songs on the album, I am still left intrigued by the craft and in particular the sheer gusto on show. Despite the somewhat supercilious title, Kanye raps, 'I am a God. In a French ass restaurant, hurry up with my damn croissants!' Leading us to believe he is not the self-indulgent dictator the media want us to believe and perhaps maybe playing with his audience to some extent.

The real standout tracks on this record are Hold my Liquor and Blood on the Leaves. The latter samples Billie Holliday's Strange Fruit and has an eerie, dark edge to it before thundering into life, with Kanye chastising one of his former lovers during a broken relationship. Not all of Kanye's musings however are fully thought out though. Whilst referring to attending a Basketball game with a new lover he states '...wifey on the other side, gotta keep 'em separated I call that apartheid...' And it is here where Kanye loses the moral high-ground because how can a man in one breath be making forward-thinking statement regarding corporate control and in the next be claiming having two lovers is comparable to the illegal and oppressive South African regime? Perhaps a modern take on a modern world, but questionable to say the least.

Hold My Liquor is an honest appraisal of a drunken morning after, which alludes to some of the early Kanye humour we remember him so fondly for. 'When I parked my Range Rover, lightly scratched your Corolla. Ok I smashed your Corolla...' he admits after coming home to his booty call, slightly worse for wear. But it is the rising layers of this song which make it stand out. An elongated and emotive guitar solo ebbs and flows, again shows the hybridity within the album that the rapper has become a master of.

Guilt Trip and I'm In It sound like rap music in 2024. Both benefiting from collaborations, the songs again show the craft and skill of a man who knows what he wants and refuses to conform to genre regulations.
The final song on the album, 'Bound 2' is a beautiful ode to new belle Kim Kardashian. Heavily sampled but to powerful effect, the song sounds more like a 50's Motown record, save for the piercing and tongue in cheek lyrics, 'Step back can't get spunk on the mink, I mean damn, what would Jerome think?' (See Jerome from popular 90's TV show Martin). The song is the sound of a man happy with his lot and after saying his piece is happy to enjoy the simplicities of life.

 Kanye has a lot to say and he wont be sated until his talent is recognised or the playing field is levelled, but he is also firmly in the knowledge that this may not be for a while. Lets face it Yeezus is not for the average bear. If you listen to it and don't like it, this is understandable. But to listen and to say it is not effective, would be nothing but a lie.

Kanye's talent is ferociously depicted on this 10-track offering and some people may not 'get it' for 5 years, others maybe 10 years. Yeezus is the sound of the future. It is raw hybridity at its very best. It is a man refusing to be constrained by anything the corporate world wants to enslave him with. It is a representation of where West is now, not where Rap or R&B is. If you want an album that represents 2013, go buy the Drake album; which (since time if is an underlying theme here) is light years behind this.

 If you want sonic soundscapes, matched with primal beats and poignant, caustic, comedic lyrics; buy Yeezus. In fact follow Yeezus; he might just be where the future's at.

9/10

AM - Arctic Monkeys

There is nothing like the weight of expectation on a band who are at the peak of their powers. But this is nothing new for the Arctic Monkeys who are now twice Mercury Music prize nominated and this summer's triumphant Glastonbury headliners. After the glossy and sugar coated 'Suck it and See,' the Monkey's fifth offering is a coming of age, from a band who have grown up very much in public.

Based in LA now, AM was recorded largely in the Mojave Desert and the influence is clear on the infectious, slow burner, 'Do I Wanna Know?' Turner's wistful vocal melts over the lethargic beat and thundering bassline until the chorus kicks in and the song comes to life. Turner asks 'Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?' a theme that follows throughout the entirety of the record. In some ways, this is indeed a concept album laced with uncertainty and desire, three tracks ask questions, all depicting a very defined space our protagonist finds himself in, trying to woo an unconvinced lover.

'R U Mine?' powers its way sublimely to crescendo, again highlighting not only the band's mercurial talent for songcraft but Turner's quite brilliant lyrical ability. 'She's a silver lining, lone ranger riding through an open space in my mind, when she's not right there beside me' an example of the talent this young wordsmith has honed and perfected over the last decade or so.

The album takes a slight change of pace on 'One for the Road' before picking up again for 70's influenced rocker 'Arabella.' AM of course is an apt title indeed, a nod to the Velvet Underground's VU, yet also very much a late night record. Choose your poison, dim the lights and prepare to be wowed.

The ebb and flow continues with the Cornerstone-esque 'No.1 Party Anthem' where Turner croons 'I just want you to do me no good and you look like you could.' A pure ballad, again lamenting the subject of the album.

Other stand out tracks include the upbeat, Queens of the Stone Age influenced 'Snap Out of It,' where the backing vocals are high-pitched and Turner pleads' It sounds like settling down or giving up but it doesn't sound much like you girl.'

However, if one track was to sum up AM, it would be the deliciously-titled 'Knee Socks,' featuring the most inspiring 30-second segment of the entire record. As the song breaks down and the backing vocalists repeat the immortal line 'you and me could have been a team...like the beginning of Mean Streets, you could be my baby...' the shuddering voice of Josh Homme powers over the track alongside a searing guitar, providing an orgasmic soundscape and the highlight of a brilliant album.  

There are many themes that could sum up AM. Desperation, longing, uncertainty. One thing that is certain however, is that the Arctic Monkeys have produced another belter. The craft and guile of the musicians, matched with Turner's lyrical wit and artistic vision, provide yet another feat of brilliance. A little more 'Humbug' and less 'Suck It and See' the band handles teenage themes with adult aplomb and decadent mischief. 
Lets just hope whoever the girl in question said yes, because if one thing is for sure, Alex Turner is most certainly a keeper.