A band's fourth album can be seen as a career turning point, a monumental moment when the experimentation of the 'difficult third album' can either be toned back and paired with the band's signature sound or further explored, leading to mixed results and even further alienation of the core fanbase. On Suck it and See, the fourth studio album by Sheffield's Arctic Monkeys, the band follows neither direction, and instead attempts in vain to sound like itself despite the fact that it has now sadly become the Alex Turner Experience.
Early in the Monkeys career, A.T.'s street poetry and wry observational take on contemporary society made him poet laureate for the new millenium generation, but with his inexplicable transition into nonsensical lyricism and troubadour lounge act via his pet project The Last Shadow Puppets he has slowly proven to be less of a messiah than the indie world once anointed him. It is a sign of the times that in the hyper-accelerated social networking pop culture age, the Monkeys are thrust into the roles of industry veterans in their mid-20s, having an identity crisis on their fourth album, trying to be so many things they are not, not really knowing who they are.
Where's the Excitement?
This band was once exciting, invigorating, a breath of fresh air in a stale world of indie guitar rock. Their brash, fast-paced tales of dancefloors and back alley brawls crystalized a youth culture movement into catchy chart tunes that hipsters could be proud of. Turner was the Dylan and his disciples bought 2004s Whatever People Say I am , That's What I'm Not by the millions. On Suck it and See's opening track "She's Thunderstorms" one wonders where the urgency, the vitriol has gone? Maturing as a band is one thing, but going from the primal power of those first two albums to the energy-less slow rock of this track is a shame. When A.T. croons of "belly-button piercings in the sky" on "Black Treacle", I'm reminded of the opening scene of the Social Network when Mark Zuckerburg's girlfriend berates him with the "you think everything that pops into your head is so clever is has to be shared" line. A.T. has become quite self-satisfied with his poetic ramblings, even if the listener rarely knows what the hell he's talking about. It was once a charm of his that his obtuse lyrics teased the brain, but far too few of them make any sense at all now, and for a band who built their sound and fame upon story-telling, it is a negative development.
Where's The Originality?
Sonically, musically, lyrically, some critics will say that the band is evolving, maturing, on a path to being grown-up musicians since the Josh Homme-helmed psych-rock of Humbug. Just because they have ditched their zany, fast-paced garage rock for by-the-numbers radio rock on ridiculously bad cuts such as "Brick by Brick" does not signal maturation. On "Library Pictures" you can almost hear that vintage Monkeys sound, albeit with a harder rock edge, and it works. But the plodding, major key, nursery rhyme melodies that underpin most of these songs, "The Hellcat Spangled Shalala", "Reckless Serenade" should be offensive to the ears of most tried and true Monkeys fans.
They still have a way with titles, and "Piledriver Waltz" should have been much less forgettable considering its inspired moniker, although "Love is a Lazerquest" is a bit of a head-scratcher. The band's identity crisis stems from the fact that A.T. wants to be the balladeer riddle-maker and the rest of the band are having to tone down their instrumentation and bob their heads in the background while this happens. This dynamic is not what made the band famous, they once sounded fresh, original, Matt Helders used to take songs over with his drums, whereas now they sound like just some band, they could be anyone. If that's maturation, I would much rather have taken Favorite Worst Nightmare II thank you very much.
Success + Time = Failure
The Arctic Monkeys are not, and will not be, a failure, they have sold too many albums and have too many fans. But to see them as the U2 of their contemporaries, phoning it in with sub-par records after the newness and genius of their early work, is depressing. It is impossible for a band to stay new, stay fresh, sound like the did in the early stuff, but bands take directions and Suck it and See is at best a sidestep and at worst a career-defining failure. The Strokes, another over-hyped band destined for Indie Valhalla, fell on hard times after their third album was panned and the band fell into solo projects. They recently returned, however, with Angles, a firecracker of an album that saw them return to the sonic roots of their initial success while branching out successfully into new lyrical and musical areas. Fourth albums can be tricky, but sometimes careers can hinge on them, a band can be forgiven a weak third album only if the fourth is superb.
In this ultra-competitive sphere where the next big thing, the next new band/sound is a nanosecond away, that a band like the Monkeys is content with this album, this uninspired, derivative, head-scratcher of a collection is beyond me. Over-hyped British indie guitar bands, who were once great don't get me wrong, should probably never make it to album number four anyway.
6.0/10
