For about five fractions of a second I was planning to pen a super objective review which would make no reference whatsoever to the slightly subjective points below, but there’s absolutely no fun in that so I gave up immediately and I will therefore, in random order, very much insist on:
- how in my (not so humble) opinion Alex Turner is by far the best song writer of his generation, both when it comes to melody and lyrics. I sometimes spend restless hours, days, weeks trying to decide which he does best, I re-listen to the entire Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets and solo catalogue and then give up and listen to the whole thing all over again just for fun.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion having them play from 7 PM was frankly ridiculous- also, newsflash this is the last time I complain about programming for a few months, time to be either very sad or very jubilant- but they made the best of it because they’re cool like that coastal air which gets girls to reflect.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion there are few things more entertaining in today’s music than these two guys posturing, bromancing and referencing whatever cultural tidbits caught their eyes as of late. They are taking not taking themselves seriously very seriously indeed. (This sounds almost as muddled as an Alex Turner award acceptance speech, I am clearly under the influence here.)
- how in my (not so humble) opinion that silk dressing gown Miles was wearing was extremely fetching and made you want to own it, wrap yourself in it, recline on some decadent sofa in a seaside villa and sip whiskey while waiting for Alex to write that next perfect song of his.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion after several days of being treated to lip syncing divas, soulless thumping and oversophisticated performance acts it was refreshing bordering on redemptive to have some people come with a real band, complete with strings and all, and really excited background singers too. There was that one guy reaching fits of delighted hysteria in a spotless suit as Alex and Miles were making joint love to the microphone stand, and honestly, can you blame him? Of course you can’t.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion those fireworks lying in wait for the end show were on the verge of blasting off each time Alex was wielding his guitar dangerously close to the edge, but politely refrained because they did not want to ruin his hair.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion I have rarely seen so many happy to ecstatic grins in the audience at a Sziget concert, also, the crowd was absolutely ridiculously well mannered, politely dancing around your glass of cider (which you otherwise completely foolishly placed on the ground) so as not to tip it over and moving sideways to allow you to focus your shot. That’s what it’s like when a rascal and an arctic monkey play at being gentlemen and it rubs off.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion there’s nothing wrong with Alex Turner looking plast..I mean, moderately confused on stage. The whole business of modern pop and rock music is basically a surreal fever dream, any person in their right mind will either go totally bonkers or become just odd enough to remain sane.
- how in my (not so humble) opinion it was a pretty nice touch to have Budapest written onto the drum kit, testament to at least someone in the crew being aware of where in the world they happen to be playing and why. The next natural step would be to realize it went down gloriously well, come back, and do it again.