Back in 2013 when AM revitalized Arctic Monkeys’ career with Tumblr mood board anthems like “R U Mine” and “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High,” few could have anticipated where the band’s sound would end up nearly a decade later. The cosmic jazz and orchestral leanings of 2018’s Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino were a far cry from the cavalier snarl of AM’s harsher rock sound. It was a welcome change — a pivot that has gifted us the British band’s latest record, The Car.

The Car is one of the year’s best records for the simple fact that it pulls off a genuine magic track. The meticulous arrangements and gorgeous pacing are somehow able to offset some of the most aggravatingly indecipherable songwriting in Arctic Monkeys’ discography. “How am I supposed to manage my infallible beliefs / While I'm sockin' it to ya?,” Turner croons on “Sculptures of Anything Goes,” a track whose title is a reference to the opening sequence of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. And, in a way, isn’t he right? Turner’s voice sounds infinitely freer across the languid soundscapes of The Car than he did on the comparatively more formulaic AM. Much of The Car resides in Turner’s falsetto — a register that he rarely frequented until Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino. The innate airiness of his falsetto gives Turner the freedom to cartwheel across intricate constructions of strings, fingerpicked guitar, and dramatic drums.

“There’d Better Be A Mirrorball,” the album’s whimsical lead single, remains one of the best songs of the year. It’s a mournfully jazzy affair that finds Turner longing for one last dance. The song immediately grounds The Car on Earth — a departure from the band’s previous space odyssey, An overarching feeling of longing and impending loss shrouds The Car. On “I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am,” Turner sings, “Stackable party guests / To fill the awkward silences.” His ruminations on the sameness and facelessness of life on Earth grant gravity to songs that meander through several quasi-evolutions, never quite settling into anything that’s truly predictable. The Car rejects pop in the sense that these songs are not neat; they somersault and wander without prioritizing any particular destination. There are times on the album when Turner’s lyrics are utterly indecipherable, but his swaggering charm and languid vocal performance make the songs necessary listens. Even songs that bear echoes of AM like “Body Paint,” use strict staccato and extended stays in Turner’s upper register to fit into the ethereal world of The Car.

Arctic Monkeys’ evolution has been fascinating to witness. Their staunch about-face from the clutches of the mainstream post-AM has resulted in a glorious free fall into a world where they hold the mantle of the world’s most opaque lounge band. And what a rewarding world it is.

Score: 79

Key Tracks: “There’d Better Be A Mirrorball” | “I Ain’t Quite Where I Think I Am” | “Big Ideas” | “Body Paint”