John Doe
CRITIC
Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
It is difficult, no, make that nigh on impossible to review Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not without alluding to the massive amount of (over?) hype that has heralded the arrival of the Arctic Monkeys. By now, everyone would have known or maybe heard about the famous internet success saga of the band.
From playing a gig in a Sheffield pub called The Grapes where their music caught on with the audience, demo mp3s and assorted live recordings started circulating on the internet. Before long, interest in them rose and word about them grew exponetially, with the infamous British musical hacks speedily jumping onto the bandwagon. A record deal and a couple of No. 1 singles soon materialised on the horizon and thereafter, the Arctic Monkeys became the fastest and biggest selling Brit band in the land since God knows when.
Was the hype justified? It was a question which bothered me. NME saw fit to award Whatever a perfect 10/10. Most other Brit music writers didn't stray too far from blazoning it as something akin to a masterpiece. On the other side of the Atlantic, North American critics laughed at the lofty eulogies that came the way of the Monkeys and opined that the Monkeys offered nothing new and were plainly just another dime a dozen British band with Northern accents. So who was right?
For all the hype that besieged the band, raving about the band's raw energy and aptitude for a tune, the British music critics also seem to have expediently forgotten to mention the band's lack of dimension in its music, despite there being conspicuous changes of pace in the album, noticably Riot Van. There is a homogeneity that seems to course through the veins of Whatever, making it a tab arduous listening to an album that lurks mainly between furious punk and mid-tempo ska and which offers little ideas besides straight energy rush.
Talking about the songs themselves, the melodies can be a "hit or miss" affair. A typical example of a miss would be opener, The View from the Afternoon, which hurtles along pleasantly but lacks a distinctive hook. The rather dismal Perhaps Vampires is A Bit Strong But... and From the Ritz to the Rubble can also be rather grating.
As for the hits, the well-known Fake Tales of San Francisco is a mighty decent song, aided by a surprisingly addictive riff during its bridge and coda. Its only problem is that it doesn't really sound outstanding and I could think of a number of other Brit post-punk bands who can possibly do just as well, if not better. The Monkeys' other hit, I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor induces exactly the same feeling as well. And these are the hits! Maybe all that hype has brought expectations to an unreasonable level. Well, maybe, but let it be said that there are moments of beauty here, such as When the Sun Goes Down and the album does close with the rather brilliant A Certain Romance, which must suggest that this band is capable of better, greater things to come.
What the British reviewers got absolutely spot-on though, is their lauding of the voice and lyricism of 19 year-old lead singer, Alex Turner. Turner is, without doubt, the star of the show. Blessed with a lusty larynx that many rock vocalists would break a limb for, the South Yorkshire lad is sharp, observational and remarkably gifted in his vocabulary and intricate depiction of everyday life in Sheffield (or England?). One would be hard-pressed to find another 19 year-old as articulate as this lad. The potential and talent are hard to miss.
At the end of the day, the query remains. So who was right, the euphoric Brit hacks or the cynical North American journos? Rather than answer that, I put forward a couple of other pertinent questions:
Is potential alone worthy of a perfect score of 10/10?
And are the Monkeys really perceptibly better than other fellow post-punk bands in the market?
I would think the answer to both of these questions is "No" and so, it's a...
6.5/10
John Doe criticised on 3:03 PM.
