Arctic Monkeys Take You to Outer Space

When I first heard that Arctic Monkeys were working on their sixth album, their first project since the release of “AM” in 2013, I was elated. Arctic Monkeys, consisting of frontman Alex Turner, guitarist Jamie Cook, bassist Nick O’Malley, and drummer Matt Helders, first came together in Sheffield, UK in 2002. They were in their late teens and their music had the exciting, energetic charm of a group of young boys just trying to see what they could do. Their success was instant and constantly gaining traction; by the time that their fourth album, “Suck It and See,” was released, they were wildly popular in the United Kingdom and their next venture with “AM” became a hit in America.

Now, they are 16 years into the game, a remarkable longevity. But that is precisely what made me worry about the expectations I would place for their latest release, “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino.” What if I didn’t like it? What if they had reached their apex already? What if they would disappoint, or lose the originality and reliable quality that made them my favorite band?

Evidently, these questions were on the band’s mind as well. Each album that they’ve put out has a unique sound; they are constantly experimenting and taking their music in different directions as their experiences inevitably change. Their first two albums, “Whatever People Say I Am That’s What I’m Not” (2006) and “Favourite Worst Nightmare” (2007), were youthful and quick-paced; garage rock that drew its inspiration from The Strokes. Their third, “Humbug” (2009), was heavy, psychedelic stoner rock, dissonant and sinister-sounding. “Suck It And See” (2011) couldn’t be more different: whimsical, mellowed melodies sung in a soothing drawl. Finally, “AM” (2013) incorporated a new electric sound, slightly dark and very rhythmic. Their range is undeniable.

Despite their constantly evolving music, certain things never changed. Alex Turner, who writes the band’s songs, is consistently a lyrical genius, providing elegant and poetic content. His songwriting is complex, characterized by creative phrasing and vivid imagery that gracefully evokes emotion. It is, in a way, Shakespearean: sometimes nonsensical, but always beautiful. For instance, in “Library Pictures,” Turner sings, “Library pictures of the quickening canoe/ The first of its kind to get to the moon/ Trust some ellipses to chase you round the room/ Through metaphors and curly straws and goo.” At the same time, Turner can be undeniably romantic, as in “Suck It And See,” where he croons, “Your kiss, it could put creases in the rain.”

Furthermore, the same themes are prevalent. Turner offers keen observations and commentary on the world around him and the people in it—club culture, relationships, human behavior, and love. It is the type of meaningful material that defined what music means to me.

And so, when I first listened to “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino,” I panicked. To be fair, the reviews that I had read beforehand and the generally stressed mental state that I was in didn’t help, but I couldn’t escape the fact that the Arctic Monkeys threw me a real curveball. For a moment, it felt like everything had changed, and maybe not in a way that I liked. The sound was different, but so were the instruments and the singing itself! The guitars that have always been a key component in the band’s indie rock content were hushed and the drums slightly faded, in order to make room for the piano and science fiction sound effects—the buzzes and ringing that feel like they belong to spaceships or the score of a movie taking place in a distant galaxy. And what was this music about? The lyrics seemed confusing. They were beyond nonsensical: I had no clue what some songs were about at all. It felt as though my emotional connection with the music had been jeopardized.

However, the longer that I listened to the album, the more my appreciation and respect grew. Without question, “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino” is the most mature music that Arctic Monkeys have ever created, and is a testament to the fact that their quality doesn’t change as the band ages, but remains dynamic.

One of the biggest themes in “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino” is its science fiction nature: it takes place in a hotel on the moon. In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Turner said, “I like the idea that the record be named after a place. It isn’t something that I’ve done before, but I do consider many of my favorite records almost being like places that you can visit.” In this case, the place is Tranquility Base, the site of the first lunar landing. As such, the album really sounds like what you would listen to at a jazz bar in outer space. The music is slowed down and deeply contemplative. At the same time, there is a type of wild creativity that is purely artistic. The album paints the picture of a singer who created a new world for himself in order to better understand the one he is living in.

The structure seems to have broken down; there is rarely a repetitive chorus and the music seems very fluid. In “The World’s First Ever Monster Truck Front Flip,” both Turner’s singing and the instruments seamlessly transition between an upbeat, robotic sound and a slow, almost Elvis-esque ballad. However, despite the lack of typical song structure, there is a definitive symmetry to the music. While the words themselves rarely repeat, the verses have melodies that change in the same way throughout the song, often framing a unique bridge.

One notable trait of the album is the renewed intensity of Turner’s Sheffield accent. When listening to the opening track, “Star Treatment,” I wasn’t immediately sure if it was Turner performing; it sounded as if John Cooper Clarke was reading spoken word poetry at a bar. It comes off as strange at first, but considering the frankness of the song, it seems fitting: Turner begins the album by considering how the band has changed and where they started with the line, “I just wanted to be one of The Strokes.” It begins the mixture of sincerity and fiction that are intertwined throughout the album.

As in the rest of the album, there is a large amount of restraint when it comes to the instruments, as if the rest of the band is taking a step back. The heavy inclusion of the piano throughout the album plays a big role in creating this effect—slowing the music down and giving it a more soothing effect than the band’s past music (akin to the slow ballads of “Suck It And See”). In songs such as “One Point Perspective” and “The World’s First Ever Monster Truck Front Flip,” the Arctic Monkeys set a beat with a repetitive single piano note, which gives their music a range it did not have before.

B y contrast, Turner’s singing seems dramatic and sweeping, changing in inflection and tone. It has undergone a significant change as well, with Turner using a falsetto that he has never used before. The focus has clearly shifted to the frontman of the band, which is slightly disappointing considering the talent of the rest of the musicians. Matt Helders is a very gifted drummer, but it seems that his personality, and that of the rest of the band, is less integral to this album.

Another major theme of the album is the commentary on the modern world. On the track “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino,” Turner reflects on the growing divide as humans interact with one another, mimicking a hotel receptionist with a harrowingly robotic voice. His high-pitched voice and unsettling timing—the delivery of the lines feels jagged by unexpected pauses and excessively drawn out word—give the song a creepy mood, but lyrics such as “Have you ever spent an entire generation trying to figure that one out?” give it depth.

Other tracks such as “She Looks Like Fun” and “Batphone” contribute to the theme of social commentary as they explore the effects of social media and technology. In “Batphone,” Turner describes being “sucked into a hole through a handheld device.” At the same time, there is a strong sense of reflection on and consideration of the band’s legacy. One of the most powerful lines on the album is “I sell the fact that I can’t be bought” on “Batphone,” which evidences a powerful self-awareness. In the past, Arctic Monkeys had several songs rejecting the notion of selling out in their early work, an image that stayed with them, but in one line, Turner questions whether that can be true if they still depend on their music’s ability to sell.

One standout track on the album is “Four Out of Five,” which sounds much more like Arctic Monkeys’ former material—the guitars are amplified, and there is a greater sense of structure with distinct verses, bridges, and choruses. It is the most rapidly paced song on the album, and the lack of falsetto makes Turner’s singing harken back to the style of “AM.”

The album alternates between odd, fantasy-like lyrics, such as “the Moon’s side boob,” and sincere poetry. “One Point Perspective” is a stellar example, as it concludes with the lines, “Or maybe I just imagined it all/ I’ve played to quiet rooms like this before/ Bear with me, man, I lost my train of thought.” Turner’s voice loses all theatrical quality when he sings these open, nostalgic sounds, revealing an impressive ability to mold his music.

The album concludes with “Ultracheese,” a slow ballad with the quiet, thoughtful ambience of a cocktail lounge. The last line of the album is monumental, a simultaneously simple and powerful confession of what it is that drives Arctic Monkeys. “But I haven’t stopped loving you once,” Turner croons, and somehow, without any obvious context, it is immediately clear that the “you” he is referring to is really music.

Throughout the album, the frequent allusions to a life in “deep space” or one where “you gaze at planet Earth from outer space” evoke a certain sense of escapism, or, perhaps, disillusionment. In their long history, Arctic Monkeys have often been critics—of selling out, of foolish mind games, of insincerity—but had limited their scope to the lifestyles immediately before them. With “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino,” they have broadened their perspectives to the rapidly changing world, as they consider our growing dependence and obsession with technology and what that means for our future. The album conveys a fear of detachment or a breakdown in friendships, romances, and the ways in which we connect to one another. In that sense, “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino” is a defense of the things that are uniquely human, the things that drive us to create music and art. Yes, maybe we lost something with this album—dance anthems and fun tunes with a clear chorus—but we gained something more valuable with its introspection and examination of the world we live in: a challenge for us to do the same.