Striking and shocking it may have been upon release, Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino is due its second coming. Arctic Monkeys weathered the initial storm of people being shocked that they had surrendered to baroque sentimentalities and came out all the better for it. They moved away from a style and sound that had dominated their careers. Damned if they stuck with it, damned if they pushed it back. An uncomfortable period for any artist is that of reinvention. Some are capable of doing it time and time again like David Bowie. Struggling to push away that rage-ready Sheffield tact, Arctic Monkeys explode into an art rock exploration like no other.
Longue pop immediacy replicates itself throughout the album, a bold crashing through of Star Treatment sets new expectations for the band. One Point Perspective is another lengthy prose that blends pop aesthetics with confidence. Simple changes and technical qualities mark Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino as a piece that leans into the piano lounge stylings well but dispels the predictability with the starry, futuristic sounds of warped, historic instruments. A dolceola and harpsicord do not present the usual indie rock association for Arctic Monkeys, and it makes the album feel more and more like a desire to break free and go beyond. Not a higher brow, but a different one altogether. Intense and sophisticated gluttony pours out of the Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas aesthetics of Tranquility Baste Hotel and Casino’s title track.
Piano rock formations filter through and give way to crooning altogether. Album ender The Ultracheese is a key and lucid highlight of Arctic Monkeys’ entire discography, let alone this art rock effort. Four Out of Five has endpoints rattled through the whole track. The end is often the strongest portion of any work. It is the culmination of the thought that inspires a record, a writing or a film. To have bridging moments that reflect and continue on with such continuity and exceptional quality is a demanding treat that steers the track and its musical qualities of it so well. No excuses can be made for the wobbly Batphone that wraps up the album just before it launches into The Ultracheese. There is a pocket, from The World’s First Ever Monster Truck Front Flip to Batphone that sees a change in pace, but not in tone.
Jazz lounge psychedelics offer a delightful range to Arctic Monkeys, one that moves them away from thrashy colloquialisms. Problems arise for those looking for traditionalism, rather than lyrical wit. Alex Turner is on the same, consistent form here as is expressed in earlier works and that of The Car. That latter album is closer to Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino than many are willing to admit because it would mean admitting they were wrong about the qualities and range found on Arctic Monkeys’ best and most sporadic album. A broad, deep and sincerely reflective period for the band sees them deal with the gluttonies of fame and sophistication in a way that removes them far away from the sound that launched them to mega-stardom. That much is necessary for reflection, and it doesn’t seem they’ll be headed back to that colloquial club anthemic period anytime soon.
