“Disgusting”: The Arctic Monkeys song Josh Homme likened to John Lydon
If Favourite Worst Nightmare was a party animal still energised from the delayed Whatever People Say I Am hangover, then Humbug was the troubled, distant cousin who lurked in the corner at functions with their hair covering their face in just the right way that made it difficult to figure out if their darkness was a farce or an authentic part of their personality. After all, Arctic Monkeys are the masters of disguises.
Humbug wasn’t exactly a surprise with the benefit of hindsight, but in many ways, it signified the band’s pivotal moment when their music transitioned from first-pumping indie anthems to more considered rock tunes with dark undertones. Unbeknownst to the band, they would endure this level of divisiveness for the rest of their time in the sun, but the third album demonstrated the level of maturity many didn’t expect so early on.
Much of this distinction was owed to the accompaniment of Josh Homme, who worked alongside band leader Alex Turner to extract a slower, more layered sound, with Turner’s vocals also departing from its signature indie delivery to something that enhanced their newfound ambience. For the next few years, Turner would work hard to master the art of the ambience, but Humbug, in particular, proved that his desire to follow only the path his heart desired was always lurking, waiting for the opportune moment.
The difference with Humbug was that the band also used many instruments they hadn’t previously, which naturally allowed them to venture into other arenas, suddenly unrestricted by the nature of standing in the studio with nothing but an electric guitar and a few bars about having fun on a night out. Suddenly, the songs were far more convoluted, with Turner making it harder to extract one singular interpretation with his off-kilter poetic musings.
With the exception of ‘Crying Lightning’ and ‘Cornerstone’, which are likely the songs that could be construed as the closest to commercial, many of the tracks feel akin to walking down a dark alleyway in the rain with nothing but a soggy, unlit cigarette and a heart full of longing and despair. With this release, Turner was suddenly a songwriter with depth; a far cry from the mischievous Sheffield lad who sang about little more than drinking in nightclubs with girls in green dresses.
This change was especially surprising when listening to songs like ‘Fire and the Thud’, which, aside from arguably being the darkest, most psychedelic song on Humbug, delivered the kind of uncertainty that even Turner and Homme couldn’t exactly put their finger on. To Homme, especially, the whole thing sounded like a smokescreen, one that dissolves near the end to reveal a distant, indescribable, punk-laden figure.
Perhaps this is also why it is one of his favourite tracks on the whole album. Discussing its appeal with Mojo in 2009, he admitted it gives him “chills”, though the reason remains unclear. He said: “It starts to grind at the end, gives me chills even now, he’s almost like a disgusting John Lydon character.”
Turner also described the song as “visceral” and hard to describe, which is why many people consistently return to it. “There’s an uncertainty to the song,” he told Q, suggesting that, as always, the best Monkeys songs are the ones that make little sense at all, at least not on a lyrical level.
