Arctic Monkeys, Newcastle Metro Radio Arena, 22nd October 2013
AM Live - The Sexier side of the Arctic Monkeys
What does a teenager know about love? What do they know about life? Sure, I thought I knew it all too when I was fifteen, but Christ, I knew fuck all. If you can work it all out in fifteen years then we live on a boring planet. This obsession with young stars. It creeps me out. Nothing makes the blood of Britain boil like a paedophile. Some violent bastards would bring back the death penalty for them. But can’t you see? Those record companies are grooming our children. The Strypes are nothing but pastiche. Loud nostalgia with no meaning and I won’t pat them on the back just because they can play their instruments. It’s a given that Mr Window Cleaner can climb a ladder, but you would expect him to wash your windows too. There was vomit and sweat and probably blood. The arena was heaving. I was a little disappointed I wasn’t high, but the beer was nice and the atmosphere was electric. That bastard! I thought, when Turner walked on. Every little head, every little hand in that crowd, for him. It’s not that I want a slice of his pie. I want my own pie. Hot and fruity. But how on Earth do I make poetry as cool as Rock and Roll? I thought about it all night. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the girl in front of me. She knew every word. And those arms like snakes. They were dancing in the same way all night long. It’s safe to say that love is the theme of the Arctic Monkeys. Love with all its guts. It started like all modern romance does, on the dancefloor. Nothing but lust for booze and boobs. Then you get older and the sex is not so important. In fact, it’s usually the beginning of the end. With the help of Cooper Clarke they describe true love perfectly. “I want to be your vacuum cleaner. Breathing in your dust. I want to be yours. I just want to be yours.” That’s true love. In sickness and in health. Until death do us part.
But true love grows at dawn. Tonight was about that small heaven between lust and love. It’s that drive where the magic lies. When you hand over control of the steering wheel to a girl you barely know just cause she’s got that spark that makes you feel alive. Alive, for once, in this dead world. AM is a nocturnal ride through the rain. It makes me think of the first verse of the Tao. “Constantly with desire, one observes only manifestations. Constantly without desire, one observes mystery.” And tell me, what is more sexy than mystery? What is more erotic than not knowing? Not knowing where this girl will take you and whether she’ll kill you, or let you live. That’s all we want. A hard on at one hundred miles an hour. Windows down. Music on. There’s no need to touch. Just drive full force into the night until it is yours.
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