The Arctic Monkeys have got too much Yorkshire curmudgeoness to ever truly become the biggest band in the world. It doesn't matter how many times we're told that they are the bestest thing since, well, ever, if they don't really fancy becoming stadium-shredding legends themselves. Favourite Worst Nightmare was a rollicking good album, if a little-way off being a stone-cold classic, that aspired to nothing more than being a fairly decent indie record.

There were no 'Wonderwall' or 'Yellow' moments, which would have sent them spiralling into the world of Dido-sized sale figures and endless trips across the Atlantic to try to "crack America". Instead we were given 12 sturdy, workman-like tracks, of which their new single 'Teddy Picker' was the stand out. The intro bassline is so fat and juicy you could feast on it for weeks, the jarring guitar lines are truly sumptuous and for once Matt Helders decides to not take a battering ram to his drum kit and shows that his skills aren't limited to walloping his kit into a pulp. Turner's lyrics are the usual collage of colloquialisms with some added Duran Duran references and a bit of throwaway smut to add to the fun. The result is a slicker-than-your-average rock belter that should keep the hype-machine rolling on to album number three.