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It is their most polarising album yet, but for me, the album of the summer is undoubtedly Arctic Monkeys’ Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino. Not being an album of instant gratification, but a glorious conceptual slow-burner, it has the capacity to fulfill you throughout the summer and beyond. Your initial reaction might be one of bemusement, with its far-out fusion of jazz, psychedelia, glam and lounge pop. It demands commitment from its listener, but when all of its little pieces of cosmic dust merge to form something tangible, you are left with a truly rewarding collection of songs.
Paradoxically, the overwhelming success of Arctic Monkeys’ previous album, AM, could have posed problems. After all, where else is there to go following such a brilliant album? Yet, Arctic Monkeys knew exactly where they wanted to go, and that place happened to be outer space. Even casual fans know that their sound changes almost as frequently as Alex Turner’s terrible hairstyles, but nobody could have foreseen this complete musical metamorphosis. Everybody’s favourite musical shape-shifters have gone intergalactic.
The instrumental aspect of the album is essentially used to showcase Turner’s lyrics. It was written on piano, and their usually dynamic drum beats and prominent guitar riffs have taken a back seat. Instead, the album becomes Turner’s own private space odyssey. Its similarities to the subjects that David Bowie explored are obvious, yet the role Turner plays is a far cry from Ziggy Stardust. In ‘Star Treatment’, we learn that he is “Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer”, adopting the persona of a suave artiste, performing in a lunar hotel lounge, self-assuredly crooning his way through every song.
The lyrics are as imaginative and as witty as ever. Full of free-association, they sound like what might happen if Virginia Woolf and Douglas Adams formed a space pop band. They constantly wander and digress “Bear with me man, I lost my train of thought.” Thematically, they tackle everything from politics and technology to fame. Nobody escapes Turner’s satirical clutches, including himself “I want to make a simple point about peace and love / But in a sexy way where it’s not obvious.” On ‘Science Fiction’, he sings “But I’ve a feeling that the whole thing / May well just end up too clever for its own good.” This is also an apt analysis of the album, but in the best way possible.
This article previously appeared in our print edition, available now on campus and in select locations around Dublin.
