After five years since their last album, Arctic Monkeys’ are back with their highly anticipated 7th full-length album, The Car. Full of nostalgia, longing and introspection, The Car is a cinematic trip into the mind of the band’s lead singer and songwriter, Alex Turner. It’s also a pivotal moment in the band’s career, as it perpetuates a new chapter that began with 2018’s Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, a concept album narrating a tale of a space-age moon colony. Leaving behind all notions of sci-fi, The Car becomes the ideal continuation to Tranquility Base’s dramatically smooth sound, confirming to long-time listeners that the band’s lounge era is far from over.
The Car opens with its first single, There’d Better Be a Mirrorball, a string-laden emotional ballad on past romance that’s straight out of a noir film. In I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am (the perfect description of the albums’ ambiguous lyrics), a funky bass steps in, while Turner loses himself in a disco dream. Sculptures of Anything Goes introduces one of the most dramatic songs of the entire album, beginning with a bold synth intro worthy of a modern-day Bond film. In Body Paint, the album’s second single, Turner exposes emotional vulnerability, where he experiences feelings of love and longing towards a romantic partner who’s clearly cheating on him.
Wandering thoughts and introspective metaphors may be common motifs throughout the album, but the sense of self-awareness Turner brings in The Car, especially regarding Arctic Monkeys’ trajectory, comes as a major surprise. The fourth wall is somewhat breached in Big Ideas, where Turner alludes to the band’s past global success; however, the “orchestra’s got us all surrounded”, referring to The Car’s continuous orchestral arrangements. In a general sense, there isn’t an implicitly clear story being told; instead, the voice is confused, introspective and reminiscent of past times, coming to terms with what was and will never be again.
Songwriting aside, the album’s music is equal parts mysterious and magical. Turner’s suave falsetto, an evolution from his raw vocals in the Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (2006) era, is accompanied by intense string sections and seductive guitar riffs powerful enough to conjure up a glamorous lounge from the 70’s. Charmingly elegant and unexpected, the band’s new sound draws inspiration from both funk and soul, crafting a vintage sound not often replicated by contemporary artists.
In more than one way, The Car picks up where Tranquility Base left off. A definite departure from the sound that defined them, The Car is arguably not for everyone. The album is an emotional and musical rollercoaster that features less catchy hooks than it does scattered emotional musings and seemingly incoherent phrases. While the songs’ themes aren’t always clear, the album’s lyrical ambiguity is precisely what allows for multiple interpretations. What does become clear, though, is that The Car—a perfect collection of slow songs to dance in the dark to—may very well be Arctic Monkeys’ most enigmatic work yet.