GIG REVIEWS

Artic Monkeys
@ Blank Canvas, Leeds
17.10.05
www.vanguard-online.co.uk

 Not a hope of getting near the stage in tonight’s sold-out-and-then-some-more gig at Leeds’ Blank Canvas. The dank under-the-arches cavern is rammed full and beerier than normal. Today’s the day the Monkey’s have their first single released and tickets are changing hands for fifty quid outside, fuelled by the security taking whole tickets and passing them back to the street. Hmmm….

The Artic Monkeys are what we call a phenomenon. Built on a mass hype of no hype, word of mouth, downloads and official bootlegging has seen them championed as outsiders whilst manipulating the media. It makes for a frenzied crowd, desparate for their bit of history. It’s a clever move since the Artics are no more than a very good next step in the contemporary zeitgeist of pop music. You know – smart-arse lyrics, Northern sensibility, drilled and frantic guitar riffs recognisable to followers of fashion.

The lyrics are, on disc or download or demo or whatever, smart, sappy, full of spunk. Tales from the sharp end of late teens. In concert, however, it’s all about the jumping about and crowd surfing, which there’s plenty of tonight, the Artic Monkeys being protected from a stage invasion by the ubiquitous keep-‘em-at-bay crowd barrier. So, in short, we were here to celebrate songs that most knew but had not been released or to catch the hype! There was definitely a social cachet to knowing the songs and their sardonic words. Unusually for an indie gig, this crowd was here to move and plenty of dancing was going on to that short-strapped, high on chest, guitar. And they started off right – straight into I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor. Too fast, yeah, but a throwaway move to run out your only release as your first song! From then on in, it was a masterful game. Appearing to be frantic, it was ciunningly paced and the Monkeys were never actually out of control. Bottles began to fly and a Roger Waters moment threatened as the band threaten consequences to the missiles. Then: “Oh, they’re plastic” and momentum is regained with more frenetic riffing punctuated with beery men of the sort you found at Shed Seven gigs and then moved to Kaiser Chiefs gigs chanting “Yorkshire, Yorkshire”.

It was an experience but this is a band that hardly stand a chance of living up to what they’ve been hyped as. That’s a shame, since they hae a lot to offer on record and live.

Ross McGibbon

www.articmonkeys.com