Turn any song on its head, strip back the hours and hours of sweat and tears in the studio and turn it into an acoustic number to find the heart of it all. Arctic Monkeys do so from time to time. No official release, of course not. But their feral fans are dedicated to every turn from Alex Turner, all their best bits and deep cuts contained in the memory bank and online too. Hence, Imaginary Highways, a collection of acoustic works from Arctic Monkeys which were not, probably, meant to be heard in this collected order. Yet here they are, and we are better for it. Listeners are given the chance to spot the flourishes of Turner as a lyricist throughout an eighty-minute package.
What could be better? Very little. Nothing says bootleg like randomly ordered acoustics from a band that has defined generation after generation. Their earliest works up to Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino prove a real treat. Opening track Mardy Bum is a delight when heard stripped down to its acoustic qualities, and the rest follow suit. Not too much variation, no slumps or striking brilliance, but exceptionally tight and considered reworkings of tracks which are more suited to club nights on a weekend than they are the lounge experience Arctic Monkeys now work with and appreciate. Adopting organs, keys and softer flourishes on tracks like Crying Lightning is certainly a shock to the system, a welcome one too. Borderline ukelele at times, particularly No Buses, though it surely isn’t. It is just the tinnitus playing up.
Keep your ear out for the ones you love, then. That is what bootleg pieces are for, is it not? Only Ones Who Know, in this intimate and stripped-back form, is pretty similar to the Fluorescent Adolescent version. Cornerstone becomes the milestone for this one – an incredible piece in its own right but here, in all its tender glory, it takes on new life. Many of these tracks do. Some, like Fluorescent Adolescent, lack the punchy beat they need to work – proving once and for all Arctic Monkeys’ efforts with the guitar-heavy years of the mid-2000s were harder to pull off than they are often given credit for. Still, they eclipsed themselves with their more recent efforts and have thankfully not looked back from there. Spinning the likes of I Wanna Be Yours as acoustic numbers works nicely, though it is not a scratch on the original.
All too often, great lyricisms are overtaken by tremendous efforts elsewhere. Arctic Monkeys always have a firm understanding and real gift for their instrumentals, and it sometimes leaves the words and work of Turner in the dust. Imaginary Highways is a nice piece for those who hope to sit and appreciate the work of one of Sheffield’s finest without the additions of monumental and innovative instrumentals. It sounds slightly skewered, as though it reduces the point of Arctic Monkeys to a band with their frontman in the spotlight, but the lyrical intrigue and heaviness found in the many fashionable and articulate productions of Arctic Monkeys’ discography need to be experienced this way.
