Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (Domino)

The brilliance of the British music industry is that it eliminates all guesswork about who will become bigger than God. Or at least those two cavemen in Oasis. So, where in America the White Stripes and Death Cab for Cutie spend years toiling in obscurity, UK rock stars are minted long before they've released their first albums, which explains how the Arctic Monkeys have rocketed out of nowhere. Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not was an instant hit in the land of nonexistent dental hygiene and royal inbreeding, flying off shelves to become the fastest-selling debut in British history. The hundreds of North American indie acts currently crammed into windowless panel vans should be so lucky.

How irritating, then, for the unwashed masses on Matador that Whatever People Say I Am takes exactly three songs to justify the blizzard of hype. "Fake Tales of San Francisco" is two monster smashes in one, the first half offering up a bass line so disgustingly danceable it's hard to believe it comes from a group of pasty Sheffield punters, the second unleashing the most stunning walls of fire-squall guitar noise you'll hear this year. Singer Alex Turner sneers his way through lyrics such as "All the weekend rock stars are in the toilet practising their lines." There's plenty more where that comes from, with the furious "From the Ritz to the Rubble" sounding like Mike Skinner of Streets auditioning for Franz Ferdinand, and "A Certain Romance" headed with a bullet to a Britpop night near you. The middle of the 13-track Whatever People Say I Am drags a bit, but in the end you've still got a good seven keepers, which is five better than the Bloc Party managed with its debut. Two weeks from now, the NME will have turned on the Arctic Monkeys faster than you can say Robbie Williams, but for now there's no denying there's a new group of kings in the jungle.