‘We’re Arctic Monkeys, this is Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, don’t believe the hype.’ Alex Turner mumbled those words straight down the camera in the band’s first music video back in October 2005. And the hype was real. I’d been a fan of Arctic Monkeys first single, ‘Fake Tales of San Francisco ’ but by the time ‘Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ came out, the anticipation was something else. Eight months later I saw them live for the first time and they unexpectedly opened with Dancefloor. To this day, hundreds of gigs later, it remains the most exciting, enthralling three minutes of live music I’ve ever whitnessed. The crowd went bizerk. The band, and Turner In particular, were wired on nervous energy. The group revisit the song at the end of ‘Arctic Monkeys Live at the Royal Albert Hall’ and Alex Turner introduces it by repeating those immortal words – ‘don’t believe the hype.’ Turner is being ironic of course, the hype has died down fifteen years on, but it serves to remind the audience just how far Arctic Monkeys have travelled.
‘Don’t Believe the Hype’ would also be a great title for a greatest hits album, should the band ever decide to make one, which seems unlikely considering their historic aversion to even releasing songs as singles in the first place. And so this live album essentially serves as the next best thing; an opportunity to reflect on a towering discography and take stock. The career spanning set pairs beloved deep cuts against number one hits, new songs alongside their oldest. It sweeps the band’s discography and reaffirms what we already knew – that Arctic Monkeys are the best band of their generation.
But this isn’t strictly a greatest hits set. The inclusion of songs like ‘She Looks Like Fun’ and ‘Star Treatment’ at the expense of ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’, ‘When the Sun Goes Down’, Mardy Bum’ and ‘Snap Out of It’ betrays the fact that, in reality, this show was one of many stops on the long tour supporting the divisive ‘Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino.’ And It’s the new songs that actually shine brightest. Out of their original context, they breathe a little easier. Opener ‘Four Out of Five’ is greeted with genuine enthusiasm. It’s a great scene setter. Album track ‘She Looks Like Fun’ has a bit more strut here – It doesn’t sound so far removed from the swampy feel of the Humbug tracks it appears along side.
Arctic Monkeys have never been an especially consistent live band. In the context of a gig, they’re carried by their own energy, charisma as well as the passion of thousands of fans. Alex Turner is the most enigmatic of frontmen; he soaks up the audience’s attention and he makes It easy to overlook any shortcomings. But listening like this, outside of the concert’s immediate context, those shortcomings are harder to ignore. Turner’s louche, lounge lizard act is less likeable on record; his comic asides and sleazy mannerisms shave at the sincerity of ballads like ‘Cornerstone’ while he trips himself up on faster numbers like ‘From the Ritz to the Rubble’ and ‘Brianstorm.’ It goes without saying therefore, that ‘Live at the Royal Albert Hall’ is no substitute for the real life experience.
The set list, in theory at least, is a little odd. ‘Do I Wanna Know’, easily the band’s most popular song these days, is hidden away in the first quarter, followed shortly by the band’s traditional set closer ‘505’ which, to an old fan like myself at least, feels awkwardly positioned so early in the show. Generally though, the Monkeys do a good job of pulling the listener between eras without making you feel woozy. They go from the angsty indie of ‘From the Ritz to the Rubble’ to the sultry, desert rock of ‘Pretty Visitors’ and ‘Don’t Sot Down cos I’ve Moved Your Chair’ without missing a beat.
In 2007 Arctic Monkeys released their first live album, ‘Live at the Apollo’, recorded on the last night of the ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ tour. Carried by only two (classic) albums worth of songs, and slightly padded out with b-sides, the live album / DVD showed the band at their youthful best. They were typically electric and sardonic but the group’s inexperience told. Turner, far from the showman he is today, was audibly nervous and prickly, Jamie Cook was mixed out of existence while, on the DVD, the camera rarely even turned to Nick O’Malley. In 2020 Arctic Monkeys are a far cry from this early iteration of the band. The stylish, swaggering group that you hear own the stage at the Royal Albert Hall exude supreme confidence. The set list might occasionally feel a little unbalanced, Turner’s shtick is kind of grating and the recording itself slightly inferior to what you might expect (for an immaculately recorded and mixed live show check out War on Drugs recent ‘Live Drugs’) but ‘Live at the Royal Albert Hall’ is an impressive testament to the longevity and continued success of one of our finest bands.
Pop goes the Weasel 