For Fans of Arctic Monkeys

The debut arrived fully formed in a way that felt almost unfair. Alex Turner was 19 when he wrote those lyrics about club nights and taxi queues, and they read like a short story writer who had studied Larkin before picking up a guitar. The band didn't sound like they were trying to be important. They sounded like they couldn't help it.

AM stripped back the guitars to something almost hip-hop in its rhythm, borrowed a Queens of the Stone Age swagger, and produced a record of seductive anthems built for arenas and headphones in equal measure. Critics who preferred the scrappy early work sometimes resisted it. They were wrong. The songwriting is tighter than ever, and Turner's voice had grown into something genuinely sexy and strange.

In 2018 the band released an album about a hotel on the moon that is also about ego, celebrity, the internet, and what it feels like to be famous in the 21st century. Half the fanbase was baffled. The other half fell completely in love. Listened to now it sounds like a quiet masterpiece, Turner's most literary work and the most surprising left turn by a successful band in years.

Richard Ayoade's debut feature has Alex Turner's fingerprints all over it: he wrote the original soundtrack, and the film shares the band's gift for finding romance and comedy in precisely observed working-class British adolescence. Oliver Tate is the kind of narrator Turner's early lyrics might have been written for. If Whatever People Say I Am is a Friday night out, Submarine is the Sunday morning after.