Solo project? Side project? Drunken joke that went too far? The Age Of The Understatement could be all three for Arctic Monkeys frontman Alex Turner (and, all the way from Liverpool, Miles Kane).

It’d be interesting to find out what the other Arctic Monkeys think of this album. Recent interviews have seen Alex and Miles happily attest that, had they grown up in closer proximity, they’d have definitely formed a band together. They appear, both in sound and look, to be long-lost twins. Get practising, boys!

The two songwriters bonded over a love of 1960s Baroque artistes like Scott Walker and David Axelrod after Kane’s old band The Little Flames supported the big Monkeys on tour, and the duo went public with their plans to record an album that was essentially ‘less terrace chant, more ‘Montague Terrace’’ last year. The result is now upon us.

The album's title track (and single) is the key song here, the one that really manages to capture the classic Walker spirit. It jostles impressively between military chant and flamenco guitar, while the duo cover each other’s backs like a neoclassical Pete’n’Carl. Elsewhere, ‘My Mistakes Were Made For You’ is probably the exact kind of thing Amy Winehouse had in mind for her new Bond theme, all unsubtle mood swings, tempo changes and superbly pitiful lyrics (“And it’s as solid as a rock…rolling down a hill”).

‘The Time Has Come Again’, meanwhile, shows Turner at his most tender. He seems to blossom on these more wistful tracks (there are several more here), relishing the delivery of words as mundane as “nothingness” like an even dandier version of Simon Armitage, or a young Richard Hawley, perhaps. Along with ‘505’ and ‘Despair In The Departure Lounge’, this is probably his sweetest melody yet, and certainly one of his most touching.

There are two problems on The Age Of The Understatement though. The first was also evident on The Arctic Monkeys second album. They’ve done so much, so quickly that they seem to be approaching their Oasis-circa-Be Here Now phase at lightning speed. Even treating the already uncommercial sounding songs of Favourite Worst Nightmare to a load of uber-complicated drum patterns and harsher guitar sounds couldn’t hide the fact that the actual songwriting hadn’t grown that much since their debut. And while Turner is undoubtedly talented, you’d have really hoped that this album might have ushered him into a new phase, the same way as, say All Mod Cons did for Paul Weller or Blur did for Damon Albarn. It hasn’t though, and what we find is that The Age of The Understatement is, again, simply more of the same but with a different backing track.

It probably wouldn’t be so much of a setback were his band less successful. But that – like them – is unavoidable. So ubiquitous has The Arctic Monkeys (TM) sound become that even when Turner’s songs are swamped in Scouse accents and 22-piece orchestras, you still can’t stop thinking he’s about to break into a chorus telling tales of drunkenness and cruelty in a mean, unpleasant taxi rank. Here, that’s exactly what he does (along with his buddy), song after song.

Problem number two is the orchestration itself. While string arranger Owen Pallett (of Arcade Fire and Final Fantasy fame) has done a fine job, his work strangely lacks the theatrical enormity that made Scott Walker’s songs so rousing. Whereas Walker’s vocals would almost do battle with the waves of symphonic grandeur to see who could make the loudest, most exciting sound, the string production on Understatement is somewhat muted. Pallett has undoubtedly created some brilliant music – but it’s just way too low down in the mix to make the impact it deserves, always playing second fiddle to Turner & Kane’s tales of drunkenness and…you get the picture.

All of which isn’t to say that this is a bad album. If you’re a devout Monkeys fan, then the subtle change of direction will probably sweep you off your feet. But for some, The Age Of The Understatement seems frustratingly underwhelming. (Melvin Dragg)