Arctic Monkeys (clearly not to be confused with The Monkees) are a recent British rock band. I have Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not; Favourite Worst Nightmare; & Humbug on my shelf. They broke into the US market in 2006 when I was in the mood for something modern that wasn’t dance, emo, hop-hop or adult pop.
far from the tree
They are a contemporary version of The Animals or The Kinks. Nothing retro about their sound – hard-hitting guitar, strong vocals and tight, unsensitive songs. By unsensitive I mean more inclined to drinking & punching out than moaning over some lost love or the search for meaning.
They guys have very ‘just guy’ looks, unshaved and often they look more hung over than drugged out in photos. Fashionably rough blokes who like to party and who would, at least with their image, rather call the pretty waitress over with another couple of beers rather than make a pass at her.
I always enjoys these when I play them but, like many bands, there really wasn’t much of a progression musically or lyrically from cd to cd. They are still recording though & hoping for that big, big break through, which they won’t get unless So You Think You Can Dance uses a track for a routine this season 🙂
August 28-31 – attending – FanExpo Canada http://www.fanexpocanada.com
October 19 – feature – Cabaret Noir – Welcome to Lake Pinebow
Baxter dug in the fresh black soil around the edge of the the grass. He was sure he could smell that this was where that bone was. A rustle of leaves pulled his attention the trees over head. Squirrels leapt about and he turned to jump up at them, to bark then growl a warning to them to stay away from his yard.
One of the squirrels danced down along the side the oak tree, where it clung tightly to the bark and glanced over at Baxter. Baxter dashed to the tree and the squirrel gave him a brief, barely aware, look and scampered up the tree trunk just out of reach.
Baxter bounced up at the squirrel but his short legs didn’t give him much height. The squirrel turned, almost bored, and went up tree, along a branch to leap across to the next tree. Baxter barked beneath and snapped at the air.
Now that he had warded off the squirrel he looked for a sunny spot to rest in. All that yapping and running always tired him out. As he got his head comfortably settled he could smell the earth on his front paws. Bone! He had been digging for a bone.
He lifted his head and looked over the back yard. He couldn’t recall where he had started to dig but knew there was something he’d saved back here somewhere. Reluctantly he got up and stretched out his back legs to do a sniff survey around the fence and grass. He could smell his own odour in a few places but to make sure his territory was properly marked he lifted his leg to sprinkle his warning scent in spots where it had begun to fade.
From the other side of the tall fence he could smell another dog. He barked. The other dog barked back.
“Stop it, Daisy.” some one said and the other dog quieted.
The spoor of a female pushed Baxter to bark for five minutes after the other dog has passed.
When he sensed there’d be no reply he looked for a sunny spot to rest. As he got comfortable in the sun on the back steps he could smell the earth on his front paws.
Bone! He had been digging for a bone.
strap yourself in