A Barrel of Monkeys

By Josh Tyrangiel

For all their stiff-upper-lip stoicism, the British go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs over any native band that can gin up three chords and an attitude. The latest kings of England are the Arctic Monkeys, four lads who got guitars for Christmas in 2001, mastered them quickly, toured the country and handed out home-burned CDs of songs that were then uploaded to the unsigned-band portal MySpace.com Their following metastasized to the point that the band sold out the famed London Astoria last year on word of mouth. When a record-company bidding war ensued, the Arctic Monkeys signed with independent label Domino for a tidy sum and in January released their debut album in Britain, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, which not only is the fastest-selling British debut ever but was also voted by readers of the influential New Musical Express as the fifth greatest British album--of ALL TIME!-- topping, among others, the Beatles' Revolver and the Clash's London Calling.

The instinctive response to this outbreak of British euphoria is condescension. (It's fun to switch cultural roles once in a while, no?) Americans who don't love music can sniff at the band's impossible youth--two of the Arctic Monkeys are 19, two are 20--and refrigerator-poetry name. Music lovers need only glance at dusty albums by Oasis, Super Furry Animals, the Prodigy and Bloc Party to remind themselves that the Brits routinely mistake mediocrity for greatness. Here's the thing, though: this time there's no mistake. Whatever People Say I Am, due out in the U.S. on Feb. 21, isn't perfect, but it's a great rock album that spotlights a new lyricist who is whip smart, funny and appealingly dangerous. He does a lot to restore faith in rock's future.

The music itself makes no great claims to originality. The Arctic Monkeys' lo-fi guitar jags are cribbed from the Strokes and Franz Ferdinand (who cribbed them from Lou Reed and Television and so on), and the band's ska rhythms and martial drums come courtesy of the Clash. But singer-guitarist Alex Turner, guitarist Jamie Cook, drummer Matt Helders and bassist Andy Nicholson play with a swagger that obliterates any trace of ancestor worship. They aren't referencing anything as they fly through tunes like The View from the Afternoon; they're just playing as many hooks as possible, as fast and as cleanly as they can.

Turner's voice is dry and laconic, and he seldom strays from his middle range, but flourishes would only distract from some of the best lyrics ever written by someone who still lives with his parents. On the punk hurricane I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, he yelps, "Oh, there ain't no love, no, Montagues or Capulets/ Just banging tunes in DJ sets and/ Dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness," while the song title You Probably Couldn't See for the Lights but You Were Staring Straight at Me gets a laugh on its own. Turner is particularly good at setting scenes at the top of songs--"Up rolled the riot van/ And sparked excitement in the boys/ But the policemen look annoyed/ Perhaps these are ones they should avoid"--and with each couplet he swings between disgust at and tolerance of the boozy, materialistic and louche world around him. On the standout A Certain Romance, Turner looks around the pub and begins, "Oh they might wear classic Reeboks/ Or knackered Converse/ Or tracky bottoms tucked in socks/ But all of that's what the point is not/ The point's that there isn't no romance around there." But by the end of the song, he admits that a lot of those hopeless, materialistic and thoroughly sauced people are his friends and that "They might overstep the line/ But you just cannot get angry in the same way."

Whatever People Say I Am is the sound of smart kids doing stupid things, with a dawning recognition that maybe life has more to offer than drinking and hooking up. Perhaps the best thing about it is that it has no interest in speaking to anyone over 30. It's great for family dynamics that parents and kids can listen to Coldplay together, but it's a terrible thing for rock 'n' roll, which needs rebellion to survive. (Ever wonder why hip-hop is doing so well?) Parents will be freaked by Turner's wry narration of a life that could go either way, but kids will hear someone speaking their language, if not their dialect.