When the Arctic Monkeys debuted with Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, the music press in their native United Kingdom left them little room to improve, championing the band as the best of the decade and instantaneously placing the album among the nation's all-time top ten.
Though the album's feverish reception would have benefited from a little perspective and a cold shower, the band's appeal was easy to appreciate. They smartly channeled three of the biggest trends in UK rock—the edgy guitars of the post-punk revival crowd, Franz Ferdinand's new-wave/disco hybrid and the tuneful Britpop of the Libertines. However, much of the album seemed to simply move track to track, tapping one influence after another, with precious few songs helping to flesh out a sound the band could call their own.
The ensuing year and a half appears to be all the time the band needed to correct this problem, as the follow-up, Favourite Worst Nightmare, gives the band a voice of its own and plenty of clever, if not necessarily revolutionary, things to say.
Nightmare enters much as Whatever People Say I Am, frontloaded with a handful of the album's heaviest tracks. The opener, ""Brianstorm"" leads the pack with an incendiary surf guitar riff and pummeling drums that push the song along at what feels like twice the tempo of any of their previous work. It's not only the Arctic Monkeys' most propulsive song to date, but their most tightly performed, having dispatched with the looseness of their debut in favor of a more exacting approach.
The song serves as a guide to what has and hasn't changed for the Arctics on Nightmare. The band still gives plenty of nods to the aforementioned influences, but they've reworked them into a concise set of songs that stand apart from both their forbearers and contemporaries.
Lyrically, Alex Turner's sarcasm has been seasoned with a healthy dose of cynicism during his brief time in the spotlight. In addition to ""Brianstorm's"" rant against one (or possibly 1,000) hangers-on that the band encountered on tour, Turner scatters his music industry critiques across nearly half the album's tracks. Though pointed couplets like ""It's the thousandth time and it's even bolder / Don't be surprised when you get bent over"" from ""Teddy Picker"" are clever enough, they sound like the words of an embittered industry outsider rather than those of a 21-year-old largely catapulted to success by industry hype.
On the other hand, ""Do Me a Favour"" breaks new ground for the band, combining unexpected emotional depth with that same knack for clever couplets (""Do me a favour, and ask if you need some help / She said, do me a favour and stop flattering yourself"") while coping with a break-up that doesn't offer the closure of an angry split.
Taken altogether, the advancements on Nightmare are subtle ones, but as one of the few bands of their class to avoid the sophomore slump, the Arctic Monkeys may just have the longevity to work their way out of the lengthy shadow of their own hype. That in and of itself should be enough to warrant a second look from anyone who dismissed the band the first time around.
