Arctic Monkeys’ underrated best: In defence of ‘Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino’
Alex Turner once said, “There is always that one band that comes along when you are 14 or 15-years-old that manages to hit you in just the right way and changes your whole perception on things.” Arctic Monkeys were that band for many youngsters, they helped a generation of fans find their feet in the world. This has been a blessing and curse for them.
It’s a well-established fact that it’s incredibly difficult to evolve as a band or really as any kind of artist with massive fans or a loyal following, especially when a chunk of them hold you responsible for regurgitating the glory days of their youth. You’re shackled to your former success by both an industry that wants you to repeat the hits and a slew of fans who’ve never moved on from those early days. Then, there’s the flip side of becoming a boring, tired, one-trick pony. So, when Arctic Monkeys stepped out of their old skin and into loungewear for Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, it was always going to prove divisive.
It was an especially bold move considering the huge success of AM, a record which saw the band at their absolute commercial peak and, most obviously, rock and roll. They’d been changing subtly from the moment they broke out, moving further and further away from the gobby lads from Sheffield at exactly the pace that their lives and increased fame drew them beyond that old life. But on the 2013 album, Alex Turner emerged as the ultimate rocking greaser, all leather jacket clad and backed up by a band playing outright and all-out, with no end of indie rock hits and anthems that remain their most beloved.
It was a record that attracted a wave of new fans, particularly from the far side of the pond who had missed out on the riot of their debut. So, in a style that we’ve come to expect, they decided to offer up the antithesis of what the masses expected for their next trick. Much of the critique that followed seemed to be in response to that switch-up rather than the record itself.
Overwhelmingly, it feels like anyone who critiqued Tranquility Base was merely unwilling to evolve with the band. More often than not, criticism came from the same lips that moan about Alex Turner losing his Sheffield accent or complain that the four members, now affluent Los Angeles residents, no longer sang about fights down the pub or crap hometown nightclubs. People who didn’t enjoy the album were the same people who refused to engage with the album in the way it should be engaged with.
Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino is a concept album. It’s designed to provide a start-to-finish listening experience as the tracks roll into one another as one continuous piece of music. When listened to properly, the record appears as a series of vignettes, like an anthology series dealing with technology, nostalgia and painting pictures of futuristic lounge lizards as if Ridley Scott’s sci-fi characters found themselves in a sexy 1970s motel. Surely, Soviet space jazz coupled with swampy riffs and the quirky notion of a burrito bar for retired rock stars on the moon is a creditable artistic effort even on paper? And it is certainly one where the notion of ‘where’s the hits’ seems beside the point.
It’s also only when listened to from start to finish that its insane, unfaltering quality becomes crystal clear. As the band’s most sonically cohesive album, made with a transparent tunnel vision and plan for what they wanted to create, there’s not a single track to skip. There are no weak spots or fillers, as each song delivers something new and interesting but still in line with the bigger picture. Turner’s voice is at its crooning best across the whole 40-minute ride. The entire band get their moments with roaring guitar solos from Jamie Cook and some big drum moments for Matt Helders on tracks like ‘She Looks Like Fun’.
There are songs on this album that never got the hype they deserve, and it should be criminal. ‘Batphone’ feels like one of Turner’s finest lyrical efforts, navigating a tale of love with such intrigue and nuance that it’s a thousand times more interesting and seductive than ‘R U Mine’ or their earlier stuff. ‘The Ultracheese’ feels like an elevation of his more intimate releases like the Submarine soundtrack, driven by the same tender, poetic flare but just with a Sinatra-toned finish. But mostly, the album triumphantly creates a vivid energy and atmosphere. It’s a world to exist in, and it’s a world that they don’t falter from for even a second, which is an impressive and courageous move from a band that could easily have rested on their laurels. But in doing so, they proved that they can and always will evolve.
Perhaps the only issue with the record, or the reason why so many seem to have missed the boat, is because they did eventually falter from that world when it came to touring the record or promoting it. As such a tight concept, it deserved more dedication or a more considered handling. Instead of trying to slot these songs into their classic set, chopping the album up and scattering it amidst the hits, they should have made things more intimate and toured velvet-glad theatres playing it from start to finish. They should have made a full-concept film, providing visuals for the entire thing. They should have stayed at the hotel for longer and demanded that their fans come and join them because once you check in and dedicate yourself to exploring it, Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino becomes a masterpiece.
