Hear Me Out: Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Humbug’ is the quintessential autumnal album
It is an undeniable fact that some albums are just better suited to certain seasons than others. Take Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys, for example – when you listen to that record, how can you think of any season other than summer? While our own personal experiences and beliefs might shape the way we classify an album, there are some that defy debate, and I’m here to argue that as far as autumnal albums go, Arctic Monkeys’ third record, Humbug, is the ultimate encapsulation of the season.
While some of their other albums offer room for season-themed debate, like AM – I would call that a wintery record while my friend associates it with late summer nights – there is no question that Humbug feels like autumn. Interestingly, the record was released in summer and was largely recorded in the Californian desert, which doesn’t lend it the greatest ‘autumn album’ credentials, but sonically and thematically, it bleeds of cold nights and dimly lit bedrooms.
Humbug kicks off with ‘My Propeller’, a song that Alex Turner has long been accused of writing about a faulty appendage that “won’t spin”. Rather, the song can be interpreted as Turner’s desperate need to be coaxed out of his “low” by his lover, whether that be through her supplying him with drugs or simply through her own presence. Turner is depressed and struggling to find inspiration, and this introduces listeners to the kinds of themes that are to be explored on Humbug. Intense emotions, desperation, and desire are all at play here, accompanied by dark, spy soundtrack-inspired guitars and Turner’s smokey, sensual vocals.
As the album progresses, it becomes clear that we’re dealing with much more mature and complex themes compared to the band’s previous efforts. On ‘Crying Lightning’, the dark guitars continue, with a bobbing bassline that feels rocky and unstable. Turner grapples with a complicated woman who plays games with him – there’s nothing here that screams cheerful summer evenings in the slightest.
The record continues to situate us in an atmosphere that feels tinged with gothic and unnerving images. “Been fighting with my sheets/ And nearly crying in my sleep,” Turner sings on the sexually-charged ‘Dangerous Animals’, painting a picture that might as well have been plucked from a psychosexual horror film. “I’m pinned down by the dark,” he tells us. Near the final third of the song, Matt Helders’ drums mirror a feeling of being chased, and the guitars take on a frenetic rhythm that emanates a chaotic and frightening feeling, although Turner’s emphasis on eroticism gives the song an intoxicating and hallucinatory quality.
As Turner continues to explore themes of love, longing, fame, and drugs, it’s hard not to get swept up in the sonic landscape the band carves out. There is a dark sensuality that oozes out of basically every song, like when the rhythm changes into a slow, sexy tempo in ‘Potion Approaching’ or when Turner gives a silky-smooth vocal performance on ‘Fire and the Thud’.
The latter is a quintessential autumn-esque song, thick with mystery and melancholy. The way that Turner sings about the woman he is obsessed with has a gothic quality; he sees her everywhere, “Now you’re hiding in my soup/ And this book reveals your face/ And you’re splashing in my eyelids.” It’s dark and haunting, with the guitars simmering in the background before picking up into a louder and more chaotic breakdown, mirroring an emotional one. “I’d like to poke them in their prying eyes with things/ They’d never see if it smacked them in their temples,” Turner menacingly sings.
The same darkness can be found on the gorgeous ‘Dance Little Liar’, although ‘Cornerstone’ offers respite from this sense of eeriness. While it’s a melancholic song about a man who visits several pubs in the hopes of finding his ex-lover, eventually settling for her sister, it still has that autumn essence to it. You can imagine Turner trying his luck in cosy pubs with yellow lighting, inevitably finding himself on the pavement in the cold, alone, walking onto the next pub.
Ending on ‘The Jeweller’s Hand’, the song has a mischievous and spooky vibe that feels like one of the band’s most qualifiable Halloween numbers (the top spot, of course, goes to AM B-side ‘You’re So Dark’). As the thick bassline rumbles in the background, imagery of “wolves”, “moonlight”, “assassins”, “danger”, and “sinking”, create the perfect eeriness.
Humbug showed a significant musical and lyrical progression for the band when it was released in 2009, allowing them to explore darker territories than they had ever done before. Put the record on in October or November, and you’re bound to sink into a haunting, melancholic, and darkly sensual atmosphere.
