Arctic Monkeys

The Arctic Monkeys sure don't sound like the band that holds the record for the fastest-selling debut album in British history. But they do, which is actually sort of unfortunate, because now they're the rock 'n' roll equivalent of those dancing hamsters or that video of the dog who could skateboard. The Arctic Monkeys sold 360,000 copies of Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not in a single week because they stumbled upon the sweet spot in that giant echo chamber that is the Internet, and every kid who had NME.com in their bookmarks just had to have a copy the minute it hit the shelves. Pre-release buzz that it might become the fastest-selling debut in British history only helped feed the frenzy.

Why is all of this unfortunate? Because Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (a sly and appropriate title) is actually a very good album, nearly a great one. And hopefully that fact won't get lost in all the hype about the hype, but it probably will.

The Arctic Monkeys have two things going for them: a witty, charismatic frontman in singer-guitarist Alex Turner, and a restless, youthful energy that sends even their most straightforward songs spiking off in all kinds of unexpected directions. They remind me of a British version of the Tennessee rockers Kings of Leon -- both bands project a sort of working class contempt for the careerist conventions of most modern rock, not really worrying about whether their music springs from any current or past tradition, but just stealing whatever bits they need from post-punk, garage rock, jangle-pop and a dozen other styles and gleefully reassembling all the elements in ways their Who/Clash/Smiths/Nirvana forefathers never intended.

So in 13 tightly wound tracks, the Monkeys cover an astonishing amount of territory, from the dance-rock stomp of the obvious hit single, "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor," to the proto-punk yowlp of the impossibly titled "You Probably Couldn't See For the Lights But You Were Staring Straight at Me," to the album's best track, the Jam-like "A Certain Romance," which sets some of Turner's sharpest pub poetry to an irresistibly loping, jangly riff. And they're smart enough to sprinkle a few surprises in amongst all the punk-kids-from-Sheffield mayhem, including a wistful little tune called "Riot Van" about a youthful encounter with the cops that shows off the band's sweet side. (When they sing about girls, as they do for most of the album, Turner and company are far likelier to sound prickly and agitated.)

Ultimately, just as they promise in their album's title, the Arctic Monkeys are not what people say they are. They're neither the saviors of Brit-rock nor some flash-in-the-pan, Internet-generated sideshow. They're just a young, remarkably talented band who have made a cocky, entertaining debut album that just happened to sell 360,000 copies in one week. They may never match that feat, but they have the right mix of wit, swagger, and songwriting acumen to survive the hoopla and evolve into one of the decade's best bands. -- Andy Hermann

Breathless, hyperbolic praise was piled upon the Arctic Monkeys and their debut album, Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, an instant phenomenon without peer. Within the course of a year, the band rose from the ranks of an internet phenomenon to the biggest band in the U.K., all on the strength of early demos circulated on the web as MP3s. Those demos built the band a rabid fan base before the Monkeys had released a record, even before they played more than a handful of gigs. In effect, the group performed a complete run around the industry, avoiding conventional routes toward stardom, which paid off in spades. When Whatever People Say I Am hit the streets in January 2006, it sold a gob-smacking 118,501 copies within its first week of release, which not only made it the fastest-selling debut ever, but it sold more than the rest of the Top 20 combined -- a remarkable achievement by any measure.

Last time such excitement surrounded a new British guitar band it was a decade earlier, as Brit-pop hit overdrive with the release of Oasis' 1994 debut, Definitely Maybe. All four members of the Arctic Monkeys were a little bit shy of their tenth birthday at the time, a bit young to be sure, but old enough to have Oasis be their first favorite band. So, it's little surprise that the Gallaghers' laddism -- celebrating nights out fueled by lager and loud guitars -- is the bedrock foundation of the Arctic Monkeys, just the way as it has been for most British rock bands since the mid-'90s, but the Monkeys' true musical ground zero is 2001, the year the Strokes stormed British consciousness with their debut, Is This It. The Arctic Monkeys borrow heavily from the Strokes' stylized ennui, adding an equal element of the Libertines' shambolic neo-classicist punk, undercut by a hint of dance-punk learned from Franz Ferdinand. But where the Strokes, the Libertines, and Franz all knowingly reference the past, this Sheffield quartet is concerned with the now, piecing together elements of their favorite bands as lead singer/songwriter Alex Turner tells stories from their lives -- mainly hookups on the dancefloor and underage drinking, balanced by the occasional imagined tragic tales of prostitution and the music industry.

Whatever People Say I Am captures the band mashing up the Strokes and the Libertines at will, jamming angular riffs into a small space and tearing through the songs. But where the Strokes camouflaged their songwriting skills with a laconic, take-it-or-leave-it sexiness and where the Libertines mythologized England with a junkie poeticism, the Arctic Monkeys at their heart are simple, everyday lads. The dry production, sounding for all the world like an homage to Is This It -- all clanking guitars and clattering drums, with most of the energy coming from the group's call-and-response backing vocals -- keeps things rather earthbound.

In a way, Whatever People Say I Am is an ideal album for the Information Overload Age -- nearly every track here is overloaded with riffs and words, and just when it's about to sort itself out, it stops short. The band winds up with a patchwork of common sounds, stitched together in ways that may have odd juxtapositions, but usually feel familiar. One thing that sets them apart, and really gives them promise, is Alex Turner's writerly ambition. While he may fall far short of fellow Sheffield lyricist Jarvis Cocker, or such past teenage renegades as Paul Weller, Turner does illustrate ample ambition here. While his words can be overcooked -- allusions to -Romeo & Juliet do not necessarily count as depth -- he does tell stories, which distinguishes him from his first-person peers. His fondness for detail, his sense of place are the qualities that make his work resonate for thousands of young Britons. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide