Looking Good on the Dancefloor
Arctic Monkey
It is not often that I write about music because this is, after all, a blog about TV. At least it should be about TV: recently there has been a paucity of content about which I’m still feeling guilty mainly due to the realisation that my New Year resolution (to write here at least 20 times a month) was cruelly curtailed when April resulted in only 19 posts. Anyway, last night I stayed up to watch an installment of Later… with Jools Holland, which is a not a show I generally go out of my way to watch but yesterday I saw on the BBC homepage that it would feature the Arctic Monkeys.
Their new album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, has been on constant play everywhere I’ve been since its release last week and it really is amazingly good. They treated us to three tracks from the album: Brainstorm, 505 and Teddy Picker. Each was delivered with the confidence and tightness of a band who were all too well aware of just how good they are and, possibly, just how great they might yet be. I am no reader of the popular music press and, in fact, only became aware of their existence when the first album began to break all kinds of records upon its realease in 2005, but despite that, I’ve been swept along with the tide of praise and adulation that has been heaped upon these Sheffield kids.
Elsewhere, Jools, with his curious mix of grace and nervousness, introduced a wide variety of acts ranging from CSS, Bryan Ferry, Henri Salvador and some Tuareg nomads from the Southern Sahara… never let it be said it’s a predictable show. However, in my humble opinion, the Arctic Monkeys stood head, shoulders and a fair part of the upper torso above all other performers. They have an aptitude for blending funny, clever and moving lyrics without ever once stepping over the line that would make them sound glib, smug or insincere (see below). I’m probably of an age where I’d feel out of place going to see them perform live but have to confess to feeling some temptation.
Stop and wait a sec,
Oh when you look at me like that my darling,
What did you expect,
I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck,
Or I did last time I checked,Not shy of a spark,
A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,
Frightened by the bite though its no harsher than the bark,
Middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start
