Even geniuses have their off days. Witness the strange-but-true case of Elizabethan philosopher Francis Bacon who died from pneumonia after tucking into a chicken which he had earlier stuffed with snow in order to preserve it. A monumental fuck-up to end all monumental fuck-ups.

In a similar vein, many felt Alex Turner and co would commit career suicide with Favourite Worst Nightmare. Especially after they announced their intention to approach recording that difficult, second album by penning difficult songs. A decision that seemed perverse at the time, though, pays long-term dividends.

Instead of Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I´m Not Mark 2, their follow-up, although not such an initially gruelling auditory experience as Captain Beefheart´s notoriously inaccessible Trout Mask Replica, also rewards the patient listener. And just like the Captain´s weird chef d'oeuvre, Favourite Worst Nightmare gets better and better the more times you play it. From Turner spitting verses like punk poet John Cooper Clarke on opener 'Brianstorm' to showing his softer side on closing track, '505'.

Less an album about growing up in Sheffield than a record about fame and everything this cruel mistress has up her sleeve, The Monkeys touch upon subjects such as infidelity on 'The Bad Thing'. Whilst sounding like The Coral covering Backbeat-era Beatles. Elsewhere, the influence of new rave producer James Ford who recently collaborated with The Klaxons on their debut album comes to the fore. Especially so on 'Old Yellow Bricks' which wouldn´t appear out of place should it feature on a Rapture set list.

Although the Monkeys are only just out of their teens, an off day looks like remaining an alien concept to them. They also seem to have bucked the British trend which sees the nation´s press building artists up, only to knock them down later. No wonder you´ll find them at the top of the tree then.

(4¾/5)