Album Review: Arctic Monkeys - Suck It and See

Arctic Monkeys’ third LP, 2009's Josh Homme-aided Humbug, wasn’t to everyone’s liking. Its move away from bouncy pop and into lumbering stoner-rock territory lost the band a sizeable chunk of their fanbase, but it wasn’t a complete misstep. This organ received that album favourably, though we remain more impressed by its swooning ballads (‘Fools On Parade’ and ‘Cornerstone’, in particular) than by the charred desert-rock grooves that are in many ways its defining feature. Come to think of it, now two years on from its release, we'd have to admit to not having spun the likes of ‘Dangerous Animals’ in some time, and we might struggle to tell you exactly how ‘Dance Little Liar’ goes anymore.

If, like us, you found yourself sitting out Humbug’s rougher edges, then there's every chance Suck It and See will bring you back into the fray. It’s a record dominated by sumptuous pop melodies and beguiling lyrics, most of which concern sexual infatuation of one kind or another (some things never change). Alex Turner has been a master wordsmith since day one, but he's come a long way from chronicling late-night teenage encounters on dirty dancefloors and booze-soaked taxi rides home; having gone for a more oblique lyrical approach of late, his eye for detail and turn of phrase is as sharp as ever across these dozen tracks. Rather than just saying what he sees, Turner is adept at conjuring up thrillingly surreal imagery: “Lately I’ve been seeing things / Belly-button piercings / In the sky at night” are the opening lines of ‘Black Treacle’, one of several numbers here possessing a killer chorus. Indeed, practically every line is shot through with the singer's earthy English sensibility, a case in point being the title track's cheeky proclamation of “You’re rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock / And those other girls are just post-mix lemonade”.

Musically speaking, a strong argument can be made for this being The Monkeys’ most cohesive effort to date, the odd clunker aside (alas, it seems they haven’t fully shaken off their love of hard-boiled riffola, and it’s not their best suit). More than ever, Suck It... drives home the truth that the Sheffield band are at their best when at their most gentle – if, like this listener, you've always thought that ‘505’ is their best song, you're bound to fall in love with this record. Nick O’Malley’s thick, treacly basslines are prominent throughout, taking on a deft Mani-esque quality on album-closer ‘That’s Where You’re Wrong’, allowing Jamie Cook’s needly guitar lines to sketch in the space.

The only pity is that some filler peppers the album: red-herring lead track ‘Brick by Brick’ is something of a stinker, while ‘Library Pictures’ and ‘All My Own Stunts’ make for a mid-section you want to hurry your way through. But once the latter gives way to the gorgeous ‘Reckless Serenade’ (check that opening line), it heralds a final stretch that's little short of sublime.

In these days of firework careers and ridiculous overhype, few have been subjected to so much so soon as Arctic Monkeys – just ask original bassist Andy Nicholson. The group's ability to sidestep the hoo-ha has always been impressive, but it’s their ability to constantly evolve and improve that continues to mark them out as a unique and brilliant band.