Tomorrow is the big day. Arctic Monkeys headline MSG in their biggest American show to date. I asked you guys, their biggest fans, to share thoughts on the show, and what its significance means to you.
A few of you guys took the time to write something, which is easier said than done, so thanks to you guys that actually took the time to participate. I appreciate it.
Instead of compiling all them together, I’m going to release them one by one, so each person’s post gets their own individual spotlight.
Find J.T. Hill’s heartfelt post below. Find J.T. on twitter as well.
A lot of people don’t know it, but the seats located in the balcony of Saturday Night Live’s Studio 8H are actually chairs from the old Yankee Stadium. They were loaned to NBC by George Steinbrenner back when the program was launching in 1975. Steinbrenner only lent out the Yankees property because he didn’t expect the show to be on air past its first season. This “loan” has lasted 39 years and counting. While the floor seats in 8H are reserved for friends, family and VIP’s, the balcony section is populated with the lucky winners of the SNL ticket lottery and their even luckier plus ones. On March 11, 2006, one such seat was filled by one such fortunate soul as a man took in a Matt Dillon-hosted episode of the legendary show. With a minute and a half left in the second and final performance by that night’s musical guest, this man unleashed the most harmlessly rude human behavior: a yawn. This act did not go unnoticed by a different man who just happened to be holding a guitar behind a microphone that was catching sounds it sent not only throughout the studio, but across America. The name of this man is Alex Turner and he had just finished crooning a line, directed towards poser Brits, shallow yanks and all others siphoning the romance out of life, resigning himself to making the best of it with this lot. A strum arm was lifted, a guitar pick pinched between thumb and forefinger was pointed, and “That man just yawned!” was sneered from Mr. Turner’s mouth as bright, reggae wrist flicks dove into frenzied chord punches. I knew then, crouching in front of my cubic television and recording the performance on a VCR, what the yawning man didn’t yet, that Arctic Monkeys had a certain romance to them and were here to stay. Tonight, Arctic Monkeys surpass SNL as the hottest ticket in town as they play a sold out show in the world’s most famous arena a little over a mile away from where that man yawned at them almost seven years ago. The funny thing is I wouldn’t be surprised at all if that same guy is in the crowd when the Arctic Monkeys stride onstage at Madison Square Garden.
A handful of times in life each of us meets music that as soon as it’s poured in our ears we know it’ll be a significant part of us. It was 2005 when I had just such an experience with Arctic Monkeys. I was in my high school’s library thumbing through the internet for new music and making a half-liar out of my English teacher who signed a pass vouching that my presence was for academic research purposes. Via Purevolume, yes Purevolume, I queued up a track with the charming title, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor”, from a band I had just read countless hyperventilating, Beatles-comparing, next-big-thing-claiming posts about. I remember the exact moment when it, the click, the hook, happened too. As soon as I heard the Yorkshire burred vocalist roll off, “Stop making the eyes at me, I’ll stop making the eyes at you,” over music that was poppy, yet smirking, I was a goner. I didn’t realize it then, but the way Alex Turner treated an old trope like making eyes at a girl, trimming the corny and leaving only the classic, was a trick he’d pull again and again to pull me in again and again whether with vampires, last laughs, or the voice of reason.
It usually started with a few minutes to spare and a hankering to watch one of the many masterful Arctic Monkeys music videos. It would usually end an hour or so later as I scraped glassy eyes off an interview with the band or video of some radio station session of The Last Shadow Puppets. During one such YouTube rabbit hole I found myself viewing a performance of the immoral, “Fluorescent Adolescent”, on French TV program, Le Grand Journal. While not as well-known as their clown costumed performance of the song on Jonathon Ross, this particular live take stuck with me. Noteworthy happenings during this performance include: 1)an amazing live version of one of my favorite AM tunes that really highlights the track’s 60s influences, 2) during the break before the second verse, Alex cracks up after Matt Helders says something to him about the show’s host resembling Gordon the Gopher, a puppet on a British children’s TV program, 3) Alex also hilariously mumbles “Gordon the Gopher” over the song’s final note, and finally, 4) fellow guest on the show, Emma de Caunes, a French actress, is clearly vibing Alex, biting her lip and, of course, making eyes. So much of what I love about Arctic Monkeys is on display in this clip; from the supreme songwriting and live chops to how you can tell these guys are genuine buds who love hanging out together to AM being one of the few bands who would crack jokes during a live TV performance to the ability to make some French actress swoon. Sadly this video has been pulled from the internet, but luckily I grabbed an mp3 of the performance before it was scrubbed.
Last spring I was perched in the photo pit of the Ogden Theatre in Denver, trying to remain professional despite the fact that backstage lurked the Arctic Monkeys, when I eyed a guy in a New York Yankees cap leaning against stage left who wasn’t one of the usual suspects in the local music journalism scene. Squinting beneath the hat bill I spotted someone whose presence both did and didn’t make sense. It was Will Oliver, the New York-based man behind my favorite music blog at a Colorado show for the band that provided the namesake for his site. Before I could maneuver though the obstacle course of the photo pit to meet him, Alex and company marched onstage where they proceeded to own every inch of the Ogden. After the show, I utilized my own 78 inch frame to again pick out the “tall guy blocking your view at concerts” amongst the crowd. Will gave me a hearty handshake before he and the friend he was in town visiting invited me to crash their night. We hung out for the next few hours talking books, movies, and, obviously, Arctic Monkeys. It doesn’t get much better than breaking down, with scholarly seriousness, the Arctic Monkeys set list post-concert with the only person I’ve ever met who’s a bigger fan of the band than me.
The thing that got me most about Alex’s infamous calling out of the SNL yawner, was that he noticed at all. As a twenty year old frontman shouldering the hype of the most buzzed about new band of the century, performing live on a TV show with Beatles on Sullivan-type expectations, Alex Turner stared down all the spotlights with his unimpressed, gibbous-lidded eyes, somehow noticed a random guy yawning in the balcony, and did what he always does, reports on what he observes in his own inimitable style. That performance not only captured Alex, but also the rest of the band; from Jaime’s unblinking cool to Matt’s anchoring passion to Andy laying the perfect sidekick bassist template for Nick. Four rock stars who took America not by storm, but by lather. Through workhorse touring, a catalog of five albums with distinct personalities that are still clearly part of the same family, and the singular Arctic Monkeys’ way of making their debut album cover, b-sides like “No Buses”, a tongue-in-cheek cover of a girl group hit single with “Love Machine”, knockout videos like “R U Mine?”, essentially everything they touch, unforgettable. They managed all this while sticking to their guns, not caring if it’s marketing suicide, not cracking or compromising, never unhinging, and passing five years time without anyone forgetting who Arctic Monkeys are. Even on the occasions when America shrugged or yawned, Arctic Monkeys let us know they weren’t angry, just disappointed. They knew what everyone at Madison Square tonight will know if they didn’t already: that lasting things have a certain romance to them. I propose a toast, to Arctic Monkeys as well as Will for giving us someone to shout for.
Join the conversation