Arctic Monkeys + The Like - Wonder Ballroom (MFNW 2009; Sept. 18)

Last night, Arctic Monkeys pulled one of my favorite moves: they didn’t play it safe. Yeah, they could have come out, played every hit, every danceable number, maybe appease the people who came for a few songs or just to say they went, but instead, they said to the crowd, “we are artists, and we know where we want to take you.” That is what separates the men from the boys. And since they are so young, it’s surprising that they already have the confidence to take the road less traveled. It’s, dare I say, refreshing.

What led into this showcase of the new songs/direction, besides a healthy wait in line (yes, I did try to flash the photo pass to skip to the front), was a group of ladies that go by the name The Like. Direct from Los Angeles they came, with a tarted up lead singer (Elizabeth “Z” Berg) who displayed a healthy dose of come hither stare tactics and gyrating hips; yet when mixed with the music, came off as way too cutesy for me.

The songs were a mix of chill to bubbly girl pop, something I assume you might hear in an episode of Gossip Girl or on whatever teen soap the CW is running nowadays. It felt safe and easy to me, where nothing stood out except for their spitfire of an organ/keyboard player (Reni Lane), who looked and sang background vocals like she grew up loving riot grrrl bands. I kept hoping the band would explode and throw some attitude around up on that stage, but instead Z Berg gave us bottled sex and a remark about how she saw the cutest couple in her life in the front row. After it was over, I made a so-so hand gesture to the girl standing next to me, and that’s what I’m giving you, too.

And then we waited, as you tend to for the headliner, anticipation electric and the crowd a tad anxious. The half-full room that had stood for the Like had now stacked up all the way to the back and my excitement grew when I learned that the Monkeys had recently covered the devastatingly good Nick Cave song, “Red Right Hand.” Would they play it? I now wanted to know, and put that near the top of my wish list. 

When the lights dimmed, the room became thunderous, cameras started flashing as if musicians had already taken their places and with a draw of the curtain, out they came: Matt Helders (drums), Nick O’ Malley (bass), a keyboardist who goes nameless because I just don’t know, Jamie Cook (guitar) and the young poet, the baby rocker, Mr. Alex Turner (guitar and vocals). 

A leather jacket clad Turner and the rest of the Monkeys decided to open the right way, by not saying word-one to the audience and letting the lights and music do the talking. What came next was “Dance Little Liar,” off their new album Humbug. It quickly set the tone for the rest of the evening: they would be playing what they thought was good and what conformed to their vision, not the audience’s. And while some audiences may have become uppity at such treatment—and I’ve heard there has been some disappointment across the pond—this crowd seemed to be made up of fans of the true variety. The type that like following a band wherever they may go, and friends, that makes for a good group of people to stand next to.

When the songs got fast, the pit was jumping, minus the ferocity you might find in a punk or metal type setting. It was good-natured acceleration around a style that has a way of pumping you up. However, in contrast to a lot of the music, which ranged from old favorites like “Brianstorm” to new tracks like the James Bond theme song-esque “My Propeller,” was that for the most part the Arctic Monkeys stayed put. Just like the show I went to last night, it was again, about the music, not the presentation, aside from the lights, which either blasted your eyes with strobes or shot out a brilliant gold around the rotating greens, blues, reds, and purples the lighting guy seemed to favor. 

Let me tell you this, I was impressed. First of all, Alex Turner is a genuine rock star. He has that smooth confidence and certain X factor that go hand in hand with you saying, “damn this kid is brilliant,” and it’s hard not to be floored by the fact that he is so young. He appeared unphased by the room as he poked at the audience, making fun of their screaming and hands in the sky during the encore, and then making operatic stage bow kisses with both of his hands as he left. In short, his attitude matched his lyrics: a bit grand, a bit pretentious, and maybe a little too wise for his years. But when you write as well as he does and play as well as the band was playing last night, you can’t help but be bigger than your surroundings.

My highlights came in a set of three: 1) They played their new song, “Cornerstone,” which I think is magnificent. It had all the ache and downtempo playfulness of the album cut and showed how Turner’s use of words is becoming ever-more refined. 2) The first chorus of “I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor” rocked because the crowd exploded as if someone had just called them to come on down for The Price Is Right. Combine that with a crowd blast of “you’re dynamite!” and the Arctic Monkeys sure had to be feeling good around then. And finally, 3) they played “Red Right Hand” and did what every band who attempts a cover of a great song should do: they flipped it and made it their own. Their version was darker (if that’s possible) and more aggressive than the original. Let’s put it this way, if both songs got in a fight, Nick Cave’s version is going to the hospital.

As the show ended, I was left with the conclusion that I should have never been able to see a band at this caliber, playing a venue this small. In Europe, I would have to go see them in arenas or as festival headliners. But last night I was twenty feet away at the Wonder Ballroom.

Thanks, uninformed Americans: sometimes your ignorance is bliss.

DOWNLOAD: Arctic Monkeys - Fluorescent Adolescent (MP3) or Follow us for more Arctic Monkeys MP3s (Twitter)

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