Credit where credit’s due, in my opinion, the consistency showed by Arctic Monkeys throughout their career is nothing short of outstanding. This doesn’t necessarily mean that every album of theirs is undoubtedly great, however, after their internet-shaking debut, they’ve kept the wheel turning, introducing new ideas with each release that keep their music relevant and interesting. Of course, the help of a few great singles is always welcomed.

The Sheffield quartet was once my favorite band. They were my first concert, (I drank a full beer for the first time that day too), and in the past few years, I’ve almost religiously listened to every song they’ve commercially released and even some songs that weren’t officially released. That devotion has been an important part of my love for alternative rock, especially because for every ballad that speaks of “Dandelion and Burdock” or every nightish rocker about texting under the influence of narcotics, there was something about the band’s music that kept me interested, despite being gradually more disappointed with not hearing an ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’-type song every time. Learning to cope in that process along with the fact I will never feel that way about the Monkeys (or any band for that matter), their music lately has also been a more than inviting change of pace.

The Car follows on the steps of its satellite-inspired predecessor, Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, with keeping the rhythms slow and the textures thick. In that album, singer and songwriter Alex Turner, in his unspoiled writing style, took us to the moon, contextualizing its titular establishment, to make subtle bites to gentrification and musical critique added to Turner’s dramatic narratives and pop-culture references. The Car smoothly takes us back to Earth, with many songs here being subtly more relatable, and a Sinatra-style romanticism, that luckily isn’t corny.

‘There’d Better Be A Mirrorball’ is a ballad made for the dancefloor (almost there), Turner reaches falsetto notes in the chorus, which is better performed than previously considered. It is remarkable as the context and lyricism of the track differ from the slight sarcasm that you could’ve perceived in the previous record, making the vocal effort a little more complicated. The vocal jazz-influenced instrumentation is compelling enough and frames a break-up song that is enjoyable from front to back. Couldn’t help but think of Sinatra’s own In The Wee Small Hours of Morning, adding that my first listen was exactly at this moment of the day.

The following track ‘I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am’ is more upbeat and in line with Tranquility Base‘s tendencies, albeit a little less memorable. The atmosphere is then disrupted by ‘Sculptures of Anything Goes’, a track framed by an ambient background, fuzzy bass, and a sinister beat. Turner’s voice seems to float, clearly reciting what seems a haphazard group of lyrics, helping the track remain echoing in your ears for a while. Later, the second single, and one of the main highlights here is ‘Body Paint’, a ballad a little more like ‘Star Treatment’ on The Car‘s predecessor. A piano backbone, a cute synth melody, and Turner’s vocal delivery that honestly seems to be on the verge of reaching its limits, all combine to make one of the simpler but most engaging tracks in the album. That break where Turner sings only above the string arrangements is quite good, and then the track adds instrumentation and a guitar solo that sounds like George Harrison’s, to make a satisfactory coda. The analogy that the ‘body paint’ remains in Turner’s love interest to represent an affair is one of the best narrative moments on the record.

There’s something working somewhat against The Car. There’s not exactly a linking theme between the tracks, even if the entitled vehicle is mentioned several times. In that regard, Tranquilty Base, had a cohesive, uniting subject underlying in every track, even if it was a little eccentric at times. Each track on The Car sound as if they are sustaining themselves, and that works better in some than others. There’s the lounge cut, ‘Jet Skis on The Moat’, which melody never manages to take off, or the title track which sounds like a forgettable act in an otherwise entertaining musical. This issues underscore that, despite having this kind of ideas as far back as their first EPs, this is still uncharted territory for the Arctic Monkeys, because these tracks are far more ambitious, and require some level of mastering its elements to be succesful.

Here I have to mention the role that Matt Helders, Jamie Cook and Nick O’Malley have in all this. Their instrumental chops have always framed Turner’s songwriting succesfully, and here, being that is a completely different type of approach, they are demanded something esle from all of it. Noticeably, O’Malley’s bass is a little more of a protagonist; Helders, one of the best rock drummers of his generation in my opinion, is the firm backbone he’s always been, although his contributions seem to be more as a musician than that of a drummer and are commendable at that. Cook definitely has more work to do, as his solos are somtimes spotlighted, but he also contribues synths and organs here and there. In the end, is inevitable to highlight that was has kept Arctic Monkeys relevant is in big part, the rapport these four musicians have shown.

This definitely is noticeable in the better tracks of The Car. My favorite is ‘Hello You’, a very memorable eight-note melody that pushes a track that recalls not only the album’s predecessor but also 2013’s AM in a way. Alex Turner sounds more comfortable here, describing brightly a self-conscious view of the band and their new sound, this kind of meta-narrative also contributes to the song being as poignant as it is. “I could pass for seventeen if I just get a shave and catch some Z’s” he solemnly croons in the growing coda as he’s increasingly surrounded by strings. If he’s trying to claim that he’s still the same person that he was when the band first appeared, then I would definitely buy that one. Honestly, I couldn’t help but think that the first time I listened to the record: this music does sound like ‘Arctic Monkeys’ in some ways, even more than their racuous beginnings. That underlying feeling of confort in an otherwise heavy and expanding sound, unevitably works in the album’s favor.

Closing The Car there are two songs that sound like the more traditional pop genre as others before. These are better accomplished: ‘Mr. Schwartz’ courting an acoustic environment, supported by a bossa-nova rhythm and the last song ‘Perfect Sense’ uses its instrumentation to actually sound like a send-off, as if the band is trying to actually state that this is what they are now. These two songs have Turner sing in his regular tone, which is also a good thing, however, like everything that has been said about this record and its predecessor, the fact that Arctic Monkeys have even take the initative of making this important stylstic change, which includes Turner going further vocally than he’s ever gone, is outstanding in itself. The results may be flawed, there would be things that definitely could make it even more resounding, especially as I think that the band fits this music (or is the other way around?). This album definitely doesn’t lack soul and after several listens it sounds even more inviting, revealing other many secrets, something I can’t help but admire.