
Now, I love Arctic Monkeys, and I wouldn't call them a garage rock band either, but at least Alex seems like he's always half in the bag and is only coming around to have a go at your girl.
The problem seems to mostly stem from singer Martin Trimble. When he doesn't seem tired or bored, he's at the very least too proper for a rock band. Standing him next to Jack White would be like standing Hugh Grant next to Marlon Brando (1950). The answer is obvious. Also, production is entirely too clean. For his part, the drummer is trying to let go and rip it up here and there. But even on those tracks, like "Oceans", he's masked by a producer who wants everything to be heard a little bit. Every strum, every cymbal hit. No distortion whatsoever.
The benefit to playing and singing this lazy is that when you have a slow, lazy, snake-in-the-desert-sand song, it works. "Bitter Pills" is included for your enjoyment. Otherwise- spiritless. (1.5 of 5 stars)