Arctic Monkeys' 'There'd Better Be A Mirrorball' is a disappointingly obtuse reflection of a band still lost in space

Photograph: Zackery Michael/PR

After lying dormant for several years following the spectacularly cumbersome Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino, Arctic Monkeys return with their first new single since 2018, "There'd Better Be A Mirrorball."

Steadily constructing a catalog of rock-solid records from their earliest days as scrappy UK Strokes prowling the pubs and parties of Sheffield nightlife and slowly morphing into moody desert rock understudies before taking the world by storm with the slick and muscular colossus AM, Arctic Monkeys sought to shed the baggage of mainstream success with a concept album staged in literal orbit at a deteriorating lunar casino. The resulting album was an obtusely insufferable exercise in unchecked egomania so obsessed with it's own pseudo-intellectualism that it utterly failed to generate any sort of compelling narrative or compositional intrigue. Suffice to say, TBH+C was a huge misstep.

Perhaps that was part of the plan all along, to destroy any sort of preconceptions that the band had spent over a decade accumulating to allow for a complete reinvention and a fresh sound that is finally and uniquely their own. Unfortunately, "There'd Better Be A Mirrorball" misses the mark, or more accurately, reveals that underneath the leather jackets and shiny pomade Arctic Monkeys truly are second-rate Gainsbourg wannabes flailing to remain relevant in a rapidly changing cultural landscape.

Building from a cinematic introduction into a piano-forward structure that sounds like something that was left on the cutting room floor of a Last Shadow Puppets recording session, "There'd Better Be A Mirrorball" immediately sounds strikingly similar to the band's previous record; slow, dreamlike, and gauzy in a manner that thoroughly and unabashedly embraces the polyester ultracheese of TBH+C. The bassline meanders into sheer obsolesce and the percussion feels apprehensive, coalescing into a rhythmic swing straight out of a retirement community mixer. Turner's poetry is immediately recognizable, but nearly devoid of the inventive phrasing and cadence that positioned Arctic Monkeys well ahead of the indie rock pack on everything from their pre-TBH+C bangin' tunes to heartfelt ballads. It's all just kind of bland and resoundingly regrettable, like a meal of lukewarm mayonnaise sandwiches and day-old coffee. There's some flashes of brilliance, the line "you're getting cynical and that won't do, I'd throw the rose-tint back on the exploded view, darling, if I were you" overflows with tangible saudade, but even still feels overwrought just for the hell of it.

As the saying goes; "fool me twice shame on me," and for anyone truly anticipating a return to form "There'd Better Be A Mirrorball" serves as a warning shot across the bow that The Car will not meet those expectations. "I know I promised this is what I wouldn't do" Turner croons in the opening third of the track, essentially laying all his cards right on the table forecasting a sad redux of TBH+C, shrugging sheepishly as Arctic Monkeys settle into their easy-listening phase with lazy resignation.

The Car is scheduled for release on October 21, 2022 via Domino Recordings. Follow Arctic Monkeys on Instagram, if you want.