After gaining popularity on MySpace for their seedy old-school rock sound, the Arctic Monkeys have explored beyond the boundaries of traditional rock instrumentation.

“The Car” is the English band’s seventh album, continuing their nearly 20-year career. The band is composed of four members: guitarist Jamie Cook, drummer Matt Helders, bassist Nick O’Malley and frontman singer Alex Turner. 

Many who know the Arctic Monkeys, myself included, came to know them for songs such as “Do I Wanna Know?” and “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” from their fifth album “AM” in 2013. They fit well into the grunge and sleaze revival of that era, and it’s great to see them fitting into rock now, which is largely experimental and genre bending. 

Unlike their brash and youthful roots, “The Car” continues the more mature and orchestrated sound the Arctic Monkeys began to explore in their sixth album, “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino.”

Turner said in an interview with Apple Music the change in the band’s sound was motivated by a piano he was gifted for his 30th birthday, which he said was the first time he started playing piano seriously.. 

From a mosh pit to a suave cocktail lounge sound, it’s impressive to see the Arctic Monkeys’ transformation and that they were willing to challenge the heavy rock they were known for.

“The Car” is a refreshing listen with complex songs that feel thought through and orchestrated. The 10-track album begins with “There’d Better Be A Mirrorball,” a smooth and sauntering introduction to the album. 

The track feels theatrical with a wandering piano intro. Turner does a great job pairing his voice with a tamer and less aggressive sound. “There’d Better Be A Mirrorball” has a lovesick tone, as if two lovers are saying a final goodbye. 

I like the mirrorball element because the mirrorball is the last thing at a party: even if there aren’t any people left dancing, the mirrorball is dangling from the ceiling a reminder of the fun that once was.

“I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am” takes a funk route with an emphasized bobbing funk bass. But the bass goes into a careening orchestral chorus that feels very dreamlike.

Turner’s lyrics are peculiar but feel as though he is at a retro party while talking about perspective.

“Sculptures Of Anything Goes” starts more murky and rock driven in comparison to the previous tracks. This track continues Turner’s complex lyricsm. 

Nothing seems to make sense for Turner and that lack of understanding seems to be the grounds for tension.

“Jet Skis On The Moat” has a similar emphasis of bass to that of “I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am,” but this track feels more delicate, hinting at a more baroque rock sound. 

The lyrics focus on being out of place but still finding joy in this foreign setting, like jet skiing in a moat.

Turner sings in his falsetto for “Body Paint.” Turner sings about thinking of a lover, saying, “And if you’re thinking of me, I’m probably thinking of you.” I enjoy the line and how it signifies a penultimate part of the song where there’s an instrumental break, and the next part rings in with a more aggressive guitar.

“The Car” is more stripped back in comparison to the previous tracks, prefaced by an acoustic guitar. However, the background grows with an inflating orchestra that becomes more intense toward the end of the track. 

Overall, the feeling of “The Car” is a difficult album to describe. There is a clear sense of longing that seems to reminisce in memory of what was, whether it was a lover, friend or family, all envisioned through a 1970s lyrical subject lens. 

“The Car” feels like a sad face painted by technicolor. The bright kaleidoscopic sounds can distract listeners from the true emotion of the album, but at the end of the day, lyrics are packed with a meandering sense of lethargy.

The next track, “Big Ideas,” continues with meandering ideas, backed by a string symphony, which is joined by an electric guitar. Turner seems to be singing about the Arctic Monkeys’ transition. 

Turner says he has big ideas for the band, and the orchestra has them surrounded. 

“Perfect Sense” ends the album with a note of optimism. It has a bittersweet taste to it as Turner questions when his invincibility streak will end. 

Turner’s lyricism is often peculiar and feels abstract. Rather than giving the listeners a cut-and-dry story, it seems as though he is trying to curate a scene where a story took place. 

I could see how people may find confusion in Turner’s lyricism, but I find it fun and playful. Not everything has to make sense on the first listen. The lyrics also further the aesthetic and somewhat dreamlike state this album is born out of. 

Turner’s lyrics start on an unfinished thought, and he jumps subjects, detours or combines elements that may not make sense, but they all carry on an emotion. 

Beyond lyricism, the album has a distinct take on rock, but I feel as though there is a lack of presence, and sometimes the musical combinations between traditional and baroque rock feel a little odd. The end of the album also does not feel as strong as the beginning. 

In an interview with Turner, Zane Lowe from Apple Music said as he listened to the album, he questioned if he even knew anything about the Arctic Monkeys, and I have to agree. 

I enjoy that they have transformed so much over their tenure. “The Car” deserves a seven out of 10.

I would enjoy seeing more theatrical baroque rock from the Arctic Monkeys, but they are known for delivering the unexpected, so I would really like to see whatever direction the band decides to take next.