ARCTIC MONKEYS GQ COVER STORY

The Last Word on The Piazza sounds like the title of an Arctic Monkeys B-side. It's also the name of the British Library's outdoor café, where GQ are set to meet our Band Of The Year. Louche, quiff-topped frontman Alex Turner arrives with the sort of hangover that requires two separate pairs of sunglasses (he's sporting a pair of Oliver Peoples shades, with another vintage set in his pocket). Guitarist Jamie Cook, drummer Matt Helders and bassist Nick O'Malley are all in similar states of disrepair. A fortnight from now they will headline Friday night at Glastonbury, offering the world a preview of their new album, AM, but for the moment they're struggling even to form complete sentences.

To date the band have released four LPs - 2006'sWhatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not remains the fastest-selling debut album by a British group ever. A year later they followed with the leaner, meanerFavourite Worst Nightmare and in 2009 unleashedHumbug, a dalliance into stoner rock with Queens Of The Stone Age front man Josh Homme that remains the band's most divisive record. 2011 saw them drop Suck It And See, featuring tracks such as "The Hellcat Spangled Shalalala", which, depending on whether you've ever considered buying a white suit or a leather jacket, sound either like Tom Wolfe titles or guitar effects pedals.

Along the way Turner has found the time to create Scott Walker-aping side project the Last Shadow Puppets, soundtracked Richard Ayoade's coming-of-age tale Submarine and dated Karl Lagerfeld'smodel of choice and former Popworld presenter Alexa Chung (she toldVogue that Turner was "the sort of person who reads the dictionary at night"). Helders, meanwhile, launched a clothing line for streetwear label Supremebeing and formed an unlikely friendship with Sean "P Diddy" Combs (his resulting video diary, including a tour of Diddy's mansion, was akin to Alan Bennett narrating MTV Cribs).

Over the past eight years the band have been praised by everyone from David Bowie ("A nice, solid Brit band") to Gordon Brown (who allegedly announced that the Arctic Monkeys tracks on his iPod "really wake you up in the morning"). Their biggest vote of confidence, however, came last summer when Danny Boyle tasked them with performing at the Olympics opening ceremony to an estimated TV audience of one billion. "Obviously during the rehearsals it were like, 'This is where the fireworks are going to go off, this is when the helicopter's going to fly over...'" begins Cook. "When the dove bike takes off..." says Turner, who relished the chance to work with someone as no-nonsense as Boyle, "we said, 'Danny, can we run this a couple of times so I can get the laughter out of my system?'" Faced with such a colossal crowd - to say nothing of performing "Come Together" in the presence of Sir Paul McCartney- the only thing that calmed the band pre-ceremony was a group sing-along of R Kelly's free-verse girlfriend rant "Real Talk".

Today the Monkeys are in similarly high spirits: everything that meets their approval is simply described as "boss". Turner dubs our location "the Vibery" and appears genuinely delighted to have wonGQ's Band Of The Year. "Great! I suppose we've 'come of age'. Stick us in a suit and comb our hair, we'll be all right!" They reassure me that there will not be a repeat of their awards show appearances in fancy dress, including the "country gentlemen" look of the 2008 Brit Awards. "We had a fox horn - we really went for it," says Cook with a faint shake of the head. "We invested a lot of time into that," says Turner. "Traipsing around all those hunting shops in Mayfair. I wonder what they thought we were doing - these 'spotty youths'!" It's worth remembering at this point how much the band's style has evolved - for those who remember the Original Penguin cagoules and "trackie bottoms tucked in socks" of their early TV appearances, it's a pleasant surprise today to hear Turner authoritatively proclaim, "There's something about a Gucci loafer kicking on a fuzz pedal."

The band's disdain for the conventional rules of record promotion do, however, make them a particularly tricky prospect for any journalist. A hack query about what they've been listening to will get a variation on the following: "Nick Drake & The Bad Seeds", "John Carpenter Blues Explosion", "Hawkwind And Fire". Turner loves it: "Matt had a good one recently: 'Captain Braveheart'," he says, laughing like he's won some sort of Mojo parlour game.

Turner's equally inventive with the band's own lyrics on AM: one key component of "Knee Socks" goes from referencing sharing a motorcycle to vintage Scorsese in a few short bars. "You and me could have been a team / Each had a half of a king and queen seat / Like the beginning of Mean Streets / You could 'Be My Baby'." Another standout is "Arabella", which blends Black Sabbath-worthy drums with lurid tributes to Barbarella silver swimsuits. The track that will undoubtedly get the most attention has a distinct hip-hop rhythm: second single "Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High" has all the hallmarks of a Snoop-strength Dr Dre joint. 

The band's topics of conversation are as varied as their musical influences. For instance: Alex, as a punter or a frontman, have you ever crowd-surfed? "I have. From both sides of the camera. I'm like the Ben Affleck of crowd surfing." Matt, when did you last get a message from Diddy? "Seven months ago. It's like he's an ex-girlfriend - sometimes I get drunk and text him." A query about haircuts prompts Turner and Cook to compare the guitarist's crop in short succession to "a mod", "a Viking", "a serial killer", "a Tudor", "Dave Hill from Slade" and "Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men". 

With a fortnight to go before they appear on the main stage at Worthy Farm, the band revisit their 2007 Glastonbury performance. "I was just a mess - I had grey skin and needed to go and watch a boxset," says Turner. His abiding image of the night? "This Polaroid picture of Matt sitting in his wellies in the rain with a carrier bag on his head. It was cool, but the PA was really shit. Nobody could hear it. It rained. I was really nervous." The verdict? "Could have done better. C+." 

***

"Now the Arctic Monkeys, like many of you, are waiting for me to shut up so they can start at Glastonbury," says Jeremy Paxman, closing Newsnight through gritted teeth. It's the last weekend in June and the Pyramid Stage crowd is dry enough, loud enough and drunk enough to be prepared to absolutely lose their minds to "Fluorescent Adolescent". Turner is resplendent in a Saint Laurent outfit that he personally sourced from Paris. Cook is clad in a Spencer Hart bespoke suit, O'Malley is in Turner's old Lewis Leathers jacket and Helders, reflecting six years worth of progress, has swapped his Black Keys band T-shirt for a Royal Blood one. 

Unlike their last time on the Pyramid stage, (where a nervous Turner's patter consisted largely of repeating "Ladies and gentlemen...") this time the front man handles his duties with a flourish. He struts, gesticulates, takes the occasional swig from a longneck, drops in a few bars of Coldplay's "Yellow", a few of Bowie's "Soul Love" and even breaks off midway through the set to comb his quiff. The three songs from AM - "Do I Wanna Know", "R U Mine?" and "Mad Sounds" are received rapturously. Watching the Monkeys from the wings are Elbow's Guy Garvey (who arranged strings for tonight's special performance of "Mardy Bum"), Chris Martin andSir Mick Jagger. The crowd sing along gustily (including a rousing "Happy birthday" to Turner's mother, Penny) and the TV audience are so enraptured they are rendered temporarily illiterate: as the band head offstage, the phrase "Artic Monkeys" [sic] trends on Twitter. 

The next time I speak to Turner - three weeks later - he's sleepily sitting in a Moscow hotel vaguely reminiscent of Alan Partridge'spurgatorial Linton Travel Tavern. The band are in town playing the Subbotnik festival in Gorky Park, but he's still buzzing about Glastonbury. "It's the biggest show you can do, in my mind. Last time, there was this crash after, this comedown. This time it was like, 'What are we doing next?'"

Watching the band on this tour, one senses they are finally at ease with their back catalogue. "I've always enjoyed playing 'Dancefloor' and that," says Turner. "At some point I started to realise it's not really about me, is it? I just want to do a good show. It's times like last Friday night that I'm pretty glad I've got a 'Mardy Bum' up my sleeve." Sure there are lyrics he regrets (rhyming "look here comes a Ford Mondeo" with "doesn't even have to say owt" on "When The Sun Goes Down" for one) but admits that the process of making AMhas helped him square up with the past. "Part of the reason I'm quite happy to do so many of them old songs at the festivals this summer is we have this new record which I'm really excited about." 

He's also keen to set the record straight on any claim that the band have altered unrecognisably. "Perhaps it's a slightly different character from ten years ago, but neither of them are really 'me'," he explains. "Now they're saying, 'You've got this quiff, you're doing this pointing 'thing', the way you dress is different and you seem like you're having a good time.' But that's still an image as well. Like it or not, it's still an act!"

He's in a playful mode, musing on how life could be very different had the Monkeys been touring in a different decade. "It would be boss to have a plane. Bands in the Seventies, they had a plane... You could have a beer belly and wear just a waistcoat with the belly. Now you have to go to the gym and fly commercial." He's also not the least bit surprised that the band haven't been approached by any political parties since the last Labour prime minister's desperate clutch at credibility. "It was a bit silly to us," says Turner. "You know, it didn't do Gordon Brown any favours did it?" 

Hours later, having rocked Gorky Park in some style, Turner will venture to the George Best bar, a gastro-pub east of the Kremlin. He enjoys hanging out with the crew, but finds the Russian crowd a bit intimidating - "even the birds". The band then heads straight to the airport for a 4am flight. Upon arriving back in the UK, Turner eats a bacon sandwich, catches a few hours' sleep and then watches Andy Murray win Wimbledon while nursing a couple of Kronenbourgs. He will later determine Murray's win to be both "quite a significant sporting moment" and secondly, gloriously, incontrovertibly "boss".

***

Before my final meeting with Turner, Monkeys collaborator Miles Kane has a few thoughts about his friend's band: "I don't think they've ever tried to be anything they're not," is his theory on the Monkeys' continued success. "They may have had periods where they've changed and evolved, but I just think they've always kept their heads. Alex is so dedicated to songwriting, it's inspiring to be around. He's a beautiful soul and I'm honoured to witness him and the band grow. His left ear's going to be burning when he hears this..." Josh Homme is similarly enthusiastic when asked about working with Turner on Humbug. 

"I think, much like a yoga instructor, he's always stretching himself and he's finding new places to reach. He's willing to take big risks and I really respect that and think it's the way to do it."

I meet Turner in an unassuming pub in east London, a day before he heads off to headline Rock In Roma. Although he's not keen to reveal which country he's currently residing in, (he describes his domestic status as "kinda No Direction Home") he treats the pub with the air of a local. He has enjoyed many quiet drinks here before - but that gets harder after you've headlined the biggest festival in Britain. During our interview we're interrupted twice by fans - one who recalls the band turning down a helicopter ride home from Sir Elton John at the Ivor Novello Awards, and the second is a pretty brunette who crosses the room simply to tell an oblivious Turner that she has a boyfriend.

This seems as good a chance as any to ask him about groupies. "It's. Sorta. Fine?" says Turner as if just polled on whether he'd consider wallpapering a ceiling. "I'm not sure we get that much of that really." He appears very happy with his girlfriend - the Liv Tyler-lipped actress Arielle Vandenberg, whose YouTube video miming "Call Me Maybe" is littered with Monkeys fans snidely quoting, "Love's not only blind but deaf." The pictures on Instagram suggest the pair don't really care what people think - notably one from Halloween where Turner is dressed as Breaking Bad's Walter White and Vandenberg is the sexiest Jack Skellington you'll ever see.

When asked what every man should know about women, he opts for a classic. "The first thing that springs to mind is what my granddad used to tell me about girls: 'Settle for a draw.' Which is so not 2013 advice." Given that three of the band are currently dating models, do they worry they're ever going to turn into Duran Duran? "Yeah, but the Stones had models didn't they?" he laughs warily. "The Beatles all dated models at one time or another... except for John."

Turner is far more comfortable discussing the feedback he's got so far from other journalists on the new LP. "All anyone seems interested- in is 'So is it about parties in the Hollywood hills? Have you got a pool?' Turner appears not to see his lyrical settings so specifically: the grandiose "One For The Road" is not about being "back in someone's mansion" but something more universal. "I'm trying to describe that moment when the genie decides it's not going to grant you three wishes anymore." He also refuses to limit his musical palette out of some sort of rock snobbery. "I love the Jam, the Kinks and the Smiths, but I don't to be a homage to them. I want to do something else." Like what? Turner is emphatic. "I want to make some music that's got some sticky fuzz guitars and sounds like a Sixties Tina Turner in cassette-tape-grey leather trousers on a chopper. But in a very 2013 way."

He also wants to reassure those concerned about the hip-hop and R&B influence. "You spend that much time listening to the Stooges and all that stuff - and I adore it - but you just reach a point where you want to get away from guitars for a minute." What crystallises this in his mind is his recollection of playing Madison Square Garden with the Black Keys - arguably the best night of guitar bands to be found anywhere in the world in 2012 - and then listening to one-hit R&B wonder Ginuwine's equine-sex song "Pony" in the van afterwards.

Only one question remains - if the band are going to get recognised by fans, will Helders fulfil his aim to open a pub called "The Cautious Horse"? "I don't think so now," says Turner. "He'll do a solo record before then." So where does that leave everyone else? "Nick can have the pub, Jamie can have the farm, Matt can have the solo record." He drains his pint. "And I'll have the breakdown." He laughs, bids farewell to the bartender and steps out into the sunshine. 

Originally published in October 2013 in British GQ. Read the original here.