Resurrected Records: Favourite Worst Nightmare

Resurrected Records is a review series where I pull a record at random from an ever-expanding collection, give it a listen, and ramble about it for a little bit. Some are good, some are bad. Others are obscure, others not so much. Some aren’t even that old. It’s also a perfect way to discover new music, and rediscover old gems. Today’s pick is Favourite Worst Nightmare, The Arctic Monkey’s second studio outing.

Hailing from Sheffield, England with an eclectic, ever-changing sound that draws from the past while adding their own do-it-yourself flare, The Arctic Monkeys were an indie gem long before their first definitively mainstream work AM in 2013. Singer Alex Turner makes no effort to hide his distinctive accent across the band’s discography, with the end result being decidedly British while still appealing to a larger audience.

2007’s Favourite Worst Nightmare was the Monkey’s second studio album, and it bears their penchant for changing up their style; while the music still retains the gritty, garage-punk foundation that the group had built in their debut album Whatever People Say I am, That’s What I’m Not, It’s clear that the band had a different idea for Nightmare. The  sound of the album is reminiscent of 1960s cinema scores, with sharp guitar over driving basslines in tracks like “Teddy Picker” and “Old Yellow Bricks” that would be right at home playing in a James Bond chase scene, while the dreamlike tone of “If You Were There, Beware” evokes a noire mood. Meanwhile, suggestive, sensual lyrics call to mind the lurid details of films like The Graduate and Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice. It has a dangerous, tempting  sound that conjures shadowed alleys and people of the night, a mix of high energy and low-key vibrations that make it ideal for driving you down the highway, when you’re alone in the dark, or in the dark with someone else.

Each side of the album is capped off with a slower song, letting you off the ride with a  final note. Side one’s final dirge, “Only Ones Who Know” is a mournful, lovelorn piece whose echoing vocals convey an intimate, late night set in a lonely, forgotten corner club. Synth-like keyboard evokes a nostalgia for no particular place or time, but rather for a feeling that is difficult to pinpoint. Side two’s final song, “505” is a torrid, urgent fantasy that amps up in speed and intensity, a satisfying final note to an album built on sexual undertones.

To the its detriment, the record is a little short; the entire experience clocks in at just under forty minutes. It leaves the listener wanting a little more than what was given, and at least for me, blunted the impact of The Arctic Monkey’s follow-up album Humbug. While it is a wonderful album in itself, when I first heard it I was still coming off of the energy of Favourite Worst Nightmare; Humbug’s more minimalist sound was lost on me for a few listens as a consequence, and I can’t help but feel that if Nightmare had had a bit more to it, it would not have been such a rough transition to Humbug’s vibe.

Still, Favourite Worst Nightmare is a fun, hammering good time, adding a cinematic touch to tried-and-true raw guitar rock. It’s evocative and maintains a simplistic grittiness that contrasts wonderfully with Turner’s dream-like lyricism, and it belongs on the shelf of any alternative or garage rock fan.