Male Yearning: The Masculine Archetypes of Alex Turner and Hozier
Male Yearning: The Masculine Archetypes of Alex Turner and Hozier
By Camille Bull
Though recorded and released in 2014, Hozier’s cover of ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ by Arctic Monkeys has only recently climbed the charts and received its well-deserved recognition; becoming the most popular cover he released with the Hozier (Special Edition) album, among others like that of Sam Smith’s ‘Lay Me Down’ and Led Zepplin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love’. The original version, released first as a single, is the opening track of Arctic Monkeys’ 2013 album AM and immediately gained stature through popularity and a Grammy nomination. The album was quick to climb the charts during the first weeks of its release, and gave the band more attention after their previous successful albums, namely Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007) and Suck It and See (2011).
Although the two versions of ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ are characteristically different in multiple ways, they both express one main thing: yearning. Lyrically, the song at its core is a romantic anthem riddled with questioning, the speaker wrestling with – or accepting – their emotions and desires in the face of a love interest whose feelings they aren’t entirely sure of. Both in the alternative genre, Hozier’s self-titled album and Arctic Monkeys’ AM share similar qualities in their rhythmic rock-n-roll and R&B inspirations, but vary in their approach to romance and emotional manner. Hozier makes himself known as an open-hearted and devout lover, and his desires and passions make Alex Turner (lead singer of the Arctic Monkeys) the fool. With each version of the song, listeners are introduced to a different archetype of how men articulate and navigate love: soft vulnerability or guarded detachment. And with the resurgence of the song sung by Hozier, it raises the question of which one is preferred today.
What is most clear in Hozier’s version of ‘Do I Wanna Know?’ is his command of the iconic bass riff. Turner, having written the song in G minor, uses a faster tempo and a bass drum to carry his song while Hozier changes to the key of G major, essentially moves the entire riff down the scale by a third (other than the grounding G note, to keep the riff recognizable), slows the tempo, and adds new instruments. With the inclusion of mellow strings and a new crawling pace, Hozier creates a tender and gentle mood, supporting his honest vocals to demonstrate the emotional weight of his love above anything else. Background vocals sung by Rachael Lampa, Lorraine Barnes, and Mia Fitzgerald add a feminine detail to the song that is not present in the original, giving Hozier’s masculine verbalization a tenderness that Turner’s lacks. These extra vocals also give the song a sense of reciprocity; where Turner’s speaker is conducting a one-way conversation, Hozier gives a voice to the subject of his desire. Turner’s version is then isolated from the gentleness associated with feminine love and devotion, which contributes to a detachment from the emotional state of the singer’s desire, as well as ruminating on the male perspective over any other.
Though beautifully and uniquely configured, the changed key and tempo are not the only alterations making his cover a tender rendition of an admirer’s passion. Easy to miss, the cover changes the background lyrics of the original’s pre-chorus, calling the object of desire “darling” instead of “baby”: it becomes “Darling, we both know”, rather than the original “Baby, we both know”. Though the two are romantic nicknames and used as terms of endearment, there is a difference. “Baby” as a romantic nickname tends to be more sexualized than “darling”, shifting – albeit slightly – the possible intentions of each singer. Turner also pushes this line to the background while Hozier brings it front and center. This becomes a pattern in Hozier’s version, as he ruminates on the lyrics that are somewhat overshadowed by the original's instrumentation.
This emphasis on the intentionality of the lyrics gives Hozier’s version more of an emotional quality; he wants to have the conversation, have his questions answered, and have his love heard. Turner is perhaps a bit scared to admit his feelings and learn the feelings of his love interest, so he refuses, in a way, to be vulnerable. This detachment in Turner’s questioning adds a suspicion and paranoia that at times accompanies masculinity’s fear of vulnerability. Turner’s decision to emphasize the strong rock instrument that overcomes the singer presents the speaker’s desires with a guarded air.
Adding to the emotional vulnerability, Hozier removes the second verse of the original from his cover. In this verse, Turner tells his love interest to “Simmer down an' pucker up, I'm sorry to interrupt / It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you”, adding a physical element to his affection. Hozier’s decision to delete this part removes his conception of love from sexual desire, making the emotional aspect a priority. Turner’s inclusion of his physical desire demonstrates a stereotypically masculine approach to relationships: obsession with having a sexual relationship that can lead to ignoring emotions. Hozier presents a relationship with the same emotional longing but without mentioning a desire to kiss or do anything with his love interest other than understand their feelings and convey his own.
Seen clearly in the unrestrained yearning of ‘Work Song’, the mythological lust of ‘Talk’, and the unstoppable love of ‘Francesca’, Hozier is no stranger to the intimacy that can come with masculinity. His familiar, gentle guitar picking and open rawness offer a softness to his music that is harder to find within the discography of the Arctic Monkeys — but is still present. Rather than the openly aching voice of Hozier, Alex Turner’s restrained, sultry singing demonstrates a brooding cover-up to his longing. The flirtations of ‘Arabella’, the enticing propositions of ‘505’, and the frustrated passion of ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You're High?’ show Turner’s focus on a love dominated by easily-expressed physical attraction, but seemingly hard-to-understand emotions, representing the emotional unavailability of many men in a romantic relationship. Arctic Monkeys’ ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ is more similar to Hozier’s discography in its slower delivery and more openly devotional lyrics, showing a little of what is hiding beneath the powerful and driving riff of the original ‘Do I Wanna Know?’, but this cannot be wholly attributed to Turner. The song was originally a poem by John Cooper Clarke, published in in the 80s, and though Clarke gives credit to Turner for ‘spotting the romantic heart’ of the poem, this devotional language is not his own. ‘R U Mine?’ returns to Turner’s romantic attitude with its fast-paced beat and the portrayal of a man grappling with desire rather than fully surrendering to it, which again differs from Hozier’s outright emotional vulnerability. This restraint held by Turner and abandoned by Hozier are two sides of masculine yearning.
Hozier’s version of Alex Turner’s romantic anthem, gaining more popularity recently, coincides perfectly with the wider cultural shift of society’s relationship ideals. Media is shifting towards the appeal of emotionally available men, men who yearn. This is clear in any comment section of a TikTok using Hozier’s cover, most of which include scenes from The Notebook, the 2005 Pride and Prejudice, Bridgerton, or book recommendations for anyone wishing to see depictions of a romantic partner who is not afraid to show his true feelings. This shift in the has been amplified by Hozier’s emotionally pleading rendition of ‘Do I Wanna Know?’, providing many with an ideal depiction of a romantic partner and relationship dynamics. Healthy masculinity and emotional intelligence are becoming increasingly valued, making the appeal of Hozier’s cover more than just musical.
There are many who assert that no cover can ever outdo the original, but I wouldn’t say there is any competition here. Turner’s emotional conflict and distracted desire demonstrate the “bad boy” archetype of a partner. One that you may meet on a night out whose feelings you aren’t entirely sure of because of his cool-headedness and nonchalant nature, needing only to look a little deeper to know his true emotional desires. Whereas Hozier adds to his reputation as a poetic admirer, presenting the possibility of an emotionally available guy that you may happen to meet in a morning’s stop at a café. Each version is enjoyable and intriguing, but the appeal comes with each person’s view of love or their romantic ideal, each given the space to flourish within society’s changing perspective on masculinity and male emotion.