THE STROKES

I have said this before but as a contemporary observer I feel adequately knowledgeable to assert there was a lull in rock music in the late nineties which can be marked by the release of two era-defining classic albums. The musical wasteland was ushered in by Radiohead's OK Computer in the summer of 1997 and eventually displaced by the rollicking good natured majesty of the Strokes' debut, Is This It, in summer 2001. The grunge scene in America and Britpop over here were both dying out when Radiohead gave the nineties its last classic album and in the intervening period a host of truly terrible bands rose to prominence with nu metal in the States and dirgey, humourless indie bands boring up the airwaves in Britain making what Alan McGee memorably labelled 'music for bed-wetters'. Of course, the green shoots of recovery were visible on the pre-Strokes landscape, with American rock bands At the Drive-In, ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead and Queens of the Stone Age delivering at least quasi-classics, but it is what the Strokes brought with them that really made the party. Suddenly, there was a whole host of stylised retro-rock'n'rollers around and, although obviously loads were suitably shit, some stuck around for the long haul. Although the White Stripes would of course argue they pre-date the Strokes the likes of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and particularly the Brit equivalent, the Libertines, may not have been signed if the Strokes hadn't exploded around the same time. It has since taken an alarmingly short amount of time for the music scene to regress back again and, truth be told, few absolute 10* albums followed in In This It's wake but when the Strokes first arrived they made the contemporary music scene exciting once more and for that I'll always remember them fondly.

Upon its release Is This It was regarded by many as the most important debut release since Definitely Maybe and by myself as the best debut since Jeff Buckley's Grace (both in 1994). The British press absolutely lapped up their nouveau riche New York cool and raffish good looks and the scoffing the other side of the Atlantic soon turned into begrudging affirmation when the Americans were presented with an album that delivered the perfect encapsulation of good humoured plundering of new wave and New York punk. Some of their peers grumbled about the easy ride they got as money rich members of high society (with two of the members meeting in a Swiss finishing school) but such antagonism simply could not be maintained in the face of such a charming and enjoyable debut. I realise people coming from poorer backgrounds may find it more of a struggle but I honestly believe genuine talent will succeed and even if Julian Casablancas wipes his nose with $50 bills it has absolutely no bearing on the quality of the songs he writes. With all the hype for once justified the band were put under immense pressure to follow up with an even better release. The fact that their second album was only marginally inferior to their debut is still in itself a great achievement and it was therefore to my and the band's bemusement and dismay when Room on Fire, with its fistful of potential hit singles, failed to make much of an impact and the Strokes - stung - slinked back to New York. As so often happens when a great album flops they obviously struggled to work out exactly what they were supposed to do, what kind of music the public wanted to hear, and third album First Impressions of Earth is riddled with flaws, as the band veer off in too many different directions with not enough thought put into any of them. It is a shame to see them descend to this level and, truth be told, salvation is not immediately obvious. I would love them to go on and become the most important band of the noughties as they initially promised to. It truly would be a shame if, ten years from now, all they're remembered for is a great debut and an initial burst of excitement and promise that all-too-quickly flickered out.

In the spring of 2001 the NME took the (apparently) unprecedented step of putting a band on the front cover that hadn't even released a record (single or LP). The Strokes were so in demand from their very beginnings that a three song album demo was rushed through as a taster EP which, obviously, sold out within days. It was easy to treat the whole phenomenon with a great degree of scepticism but when the rough, early version of "The Modern Age" finally hit the mainstream everyone was enthralled. Casablancas's impeccable Lou Reed impression and the band's stylish new wave dynamics were a breath of fresh air and, although much-aped now, a truly exciting development in contemporary rock music. The band followed-up with their first 'official' release, the double A-side "Hard to Explain" and "New York City Cops", and everything just exploded. There was a split over which song was the better, the rough-yet-stylish punk of "New York City Cops" or the sublime alt-rock charge of "Hard to Explain", but no-one disagreed over the superlative sleek cool of either song - to this day two of the greatest songs of the new millennium. Obviously the level of hype for the album was unsustainable and when it eventually arrived it came accompanied by the ultimate challenge of a title. 'Is This It' stared down the naysayers as all but the most petulant of critics were forced to put down their pens and acknowledge this was, indeed, 'it'. Ignoring the temptation the CD era had so struggled with the band released a set of just eleven songs, running for little over 35 minutes. The key, of course, was that of these eleven songs eight or nine were potential hit singles and it was no surprise to see the punk disco "Lust For Life" take-off "Last Nite" and the unassuming indie pop of "Someday" follow in "Hard to Explain" and "New York City Cops"' wake. Some of the critics looking for a flaw highlighted the bands' rudimentary musical ability but there is little doubt the band compensate for it by surpassing the sum of the parts. Fab Moretti's drumming may be the weakest link but the two guitarists combine brilliantly to make the most of the economical aesthetics of garage rock. The likes of "Last Nite" and "New York City Cops" bounce along energetically, whilst Valensi's unflashy lead style delivers effective one note guitar riffs (as featured on "Hard to Explain") and explosive bursts of soloing (as featured on "The Modern Age"). The star, though, is frontman Julian Casablancas who, as well as taking sole credit for the superb songwriting, has the coolest vocal style of any recent band, combining Lou Reed's laconic drawl with Iggy Pop's sporadic outbursts. This being the twenty-first century he obviously does so with lashings of post-modern irony, witness the knowing cool of "New York City Cops"' intro ('Ugh!...no, I meant 'oow!'...nah, I didn't mean that at all...'), and the talk-speak verses of "The Modern Age". Casablancas's cool is accentuated by his lyrics which are clipped and garbled but still offer glimpses of life as a disaffected city-dwelling twenty-something with half-realised stories and the confused anthemic "Hard to Explain" forming the climax of the set. Of course, it ain't a perfect album, as the low-key title track makes for an odd opening, and it does peter out after "Hard to Explain" and "New York City Cops" with the down-beat "Trying Your Luck". The fact is, however, that even though this album was and remains a milestone contemporary release it would still come up favourably compared to albums of any era, particularly the punk and new wave albums it so youthfully pickpockets from. It may not have had the subsequent impact the Ramones' debut did twenty five years earlier but, from the point of view of myself and my peers, its release was just as welcome. As a final note, Is This It was released in August 2001 in Britain but not until mid-September in the US by which time the global political landscape had kinda shifted dramatically. It is for that reason that the US edition replaced "New York City Cops" with "When it Started", a decent enough song but lacking the same level of impact. If you haven't bought this album yet I can only stress the importance of getting the British version with one of the twenty-first century's greatest singles in its rightful place.

From: John Honeyman

What is it with you British kids thinking the Strokes are so brilliant? I think they're alright but more something I would have been into when I was 15. I reckon it's like anti-pop pop (like Britney Spears for boys in the same demographic), the album's running time is much too short and the few songs on it are too similar. If you listen to this album a lot (which I have so I must have thought it was brilliant at one time) you'll be ready to chuck it out the fucking window (which I didn't because it was the only CD I had for 2 weeks, long story). Having said that, your page is excellent. Hope to see you doing something intelligent in the "concentrated" British music press in the near future.

[Personally, I think the short length is perfect. Too many albums, these days, are too long - JF]

From: Mart K. Kuhn

10* for The Strokes' album? You crazy? It's fun but should only get a 10 out of a scale of 12 or 13... and its opening song is one of its best.

After Is This It's release numerous bands flooded the marketplace and whilst many had successful debut albums very few have stayed around for the long haul. As I said in the introduction, some were of a sufficiently high quality and it is more the pity that the best followers, the Libertines, self-destructed when they should have been at their peak. I am sure the Strokes had hammered home to them the importance of quickly returning to the fray with another great album and following up such a milestone was invariably going to turn into something of a millstone. The sophomore effort duly arrived about two years later, in autumn 2003, and it was far from a disappointment, as the charms that made their debut so great were generally retained but with a few added embellishments that did enough to distinguish it from its predecessor. Although I remained a committed fan, the paid critics and general public were less supportive and the album came to be regarded as something of a flop. Personally, it seems ludicrous that this album failed to supply any real hit singles as the vast majority of tracks are easily the match of all but the very best from Is This It. Only with the flailing diversity of First Impressions of Earth have the critics come back to re-appraise this album, which they had originally written off as a sub-standard re-run of their debut. True enough, the Strokes clearly did not want to burn their bridges with a bold artistic statement so what this album boils down is another set of superior new-new-wave pop songs with a few new ideas but a noticeable lack of ambition which leads a few more of the songs to creep into filler-ish territory than they did on the fat-free debut. In musical terms, the main innovation (apart from the reggae-isms of "Automatic Stop" and "Between Love and Hate" and the latter's brilliantly obtrusive rockabilly guitar solo) is probably the neat little guitar-as-synthesisers trick. As a result, the album generally sounds like a historical progression from the debut. If you imagine Is This It as a 1977ish stripped-down punk album this offering has more of an early eighties feel, with its new wave overtones demanding comparisons with the likes of Blondie, the Cars, XTC and so on. The atmosphere of this album is also slightly older than the debut, with the youthful exuberance somewhat dulled and a weary maturity creeping in. This is handily highlighted through a comparison between the two back covers of the albums, with Is This It showing them looking young and fresh in the morning sun whereas the back photo to this has them looking tired, bored and dishevelled with dawn breaking behind the bright city lights of Manhattan. This whole attitude change is captured perfectly in the very first song - the sublime "What Ever Happened?". The song displays both the increased maturity and world-weary bitterness with the opening anti-statement 'I wanna be forgotten and I don't wanna be reminded' blasted out with intoxicating power. The song as a whole is absolutely stunning and instantly matches up to the undisputed classics from the last album ("Hard to Explain" and "New York City Cops" primarily). "Reptilia" is a typically stream-lined driving rocker with its dark overtones recollecting but surpassing the likes of "Trying Your Luck". "Automatic Stop" features the second best chorus on the album with the guitarists throwing in some of those brilliant mock-synthesiser hooks. Similarly the single "12.51" is charmingly cute and, again, its synthesiser guitar hooks are straight out of the eighties which shows its Tron tribute promo video was ingeniously self-referential. The award for first best chorus of the album goes to "Meet Me in the Bathroom" which is another Greatest Hit for sure as it is unnaturally infectious. That sort of highlights the problem with this album, however, as although the likes of "The End Has No End" (more cute vocal/guitar interplay) and "I Can't Win" are impeccably catchy on their own terms, coming at the end of the album they just start to feel like the end of the line. Almost as if, instead of listening to two half-hour albums, they come at the end of a single one-hour one. There was no real doubt, with their songwriting talent and tight-knit arrangements, that the Strokes weren't going to release another great album. For some reason, however, the public didn't see it that way at the time and the relative failure of this follow-up release no doubt haunted the band for years afterwards. Unfortunately, when people turn their noses up at great music it isn't just the artists that suffer.

If Room on Fire was the Strokes' 'difficult second album', arising from a period of mild hysteria and unsustainable expectations, their third is nothing short of a confusion, with the band ironically sounding more unsure and unconfident than they did on their very first release. Even before a note was recorded there were obvious difficulties with the Strokes' third effort given their previous success had been based on a very narrow and superficial template. The Strokes might have just been a poppy retro-flavoured rock'n'roll band but, for a while, they were the best. The public had already apparently rejected more of the same, given Room on Fire's commercial floundering, and the Strokes were therefore under immense pressure not just to release another great album (after all, they did that with Room on Fire), but to release a different sort of album, that would re-establish themselves alongside the rash of punk-funk copyists that had sprung up. Perhaps to their credit, the Strokes did not try to curry favour by ripping the same post-punk scene that the recent pretenders had been so lauded for doing and instead stuck to their same influences, only beefing up the sound and pushing the arrangements into more unpredictable territories. The harder rock sound was highlighted by some British critics as an attempt to win over the American market (remaining still on the commercial fringes in their homeland) and there is little doubt the meatier sound (aided immensely by Fab Moretti finally learning how to play the drums, rather than a metronome) and longer running time (three more songs and twenty more minutes than the previous two) is a Yank-friendly manoeuvre. Unfortunately, it is an unfriendly manoeuvre with regards to myself. I like to think an album should justify every second of its length and if the artist cannot fill more than 35 minutes with top quality material they should just stop there. Not only is this album three songs longer than usual it is at least three songs too long. Indeed, it is probably more than three songs too long as this album is further conspicuous in lacking anywhere near the marvellous consistency of their first two releases. The majority of the songs are pretty good, even if just two measure up to their highest standard, but for the first time on a Strokes' album there is a sizeable chunk of interchangeable filler, not to mention by far the two worst songs they've ever penned. "Ask Me Anything" is a synthesised ballad that does but nothing but bore for three minutes and "15 Minutes" is a drunken rambling that marks Casablancas's worst moment as a songwriter, vocalist, and lyricist (what exactly is the relevance of the line 'had a shit - it was fine'?). Perhaps when it turns into an up-tempo punk jig one can kinda see where they are coming from but that still doesn't prevent it sounding like a Dropkick Murphys' outtake. Although the aforementioned duo are obviously the worst songs on here the likes of "Fear of Sleep" and "Killing Lies" really do beg the question of why they were included as both are clearly generic and uninspired. The thing about the Strokes is, though, that they are still an excellent band (as their live shows still attest) and therefore still push through the material with plenty of bravado, gusto, and - of course - melody. The problem is that their attempts to bolster and expand their sound just seem almost entirely unproductive. The best moments on this album come when they are just reeling off up-tempo sleek, stylish power pop. The driving "Heart in a Cage" is probably THE highlight, with a finesse that matches their previous hits, but they also propel themselves through the pulsating "Electricityscape" (with a very new wave sound) and the swaggering opener "You Only Live Once" with equal elan. Elsewhere, the initial single "Juicebox" matches its frenetic verses with not one but two chorus hooks and the jerky rhythms of "Razorblade" recall the off-beat pop of "Automatic Stop" from the last album. As a whole, the majority of this set is fairly impressive and the newly-found musical ambition enhances a handful of tracks ("Ize of the World", the blistering guitar jam on "Vision of Division") but overall there is just a sense of confused and rudderless drifting. I would be the first person to support the suggestion that a band needs to change or at least progress their sound after two similarly styled releases but the content of this album is certainly not the answer. There is still plenty of good songwriting in evidence, the band are still cool (and know it), but there simply isn't enough overall quality to see this as anything else than, at best, a blip.

From: wschamp95@aol.com

It's funny how divisive this album is. It seems as though many of the songs denounced as shit by one reviewer are the same ones that really make the album for others. I happen to love "Ask Me Anything" (as does Prindle, adore those subtle backing vocals in the last verse) and "15 Minutes". Speaking of the latter, the line goes, 'Had a seat- it was fine.' And I disagree with the assessment that this is Julian's worst moment as a lyricist. In my opinion, one of the real highlights of the album comes when the band kicks into high gear with the line, 'so life, is it a dream? I don't know.' Kind of summarizes the Strokes' whole existence to this point. Anyhow, "Killing Lies", "On the Other Side", and "Evening Sun" are all weak and unnecessary. But I dig the bigger sound, and the first half (bar "On the Other Side") shows how exceptional this band can be. The opening trio matches anything they've yet done. An 8 as is; a 9 as a 45 minute album.
By the way, your site owns.

[I hate to be a pedant but the lyrics in the sleeve-notes of my copy very clearly say 'shit', not 'seat' - JF]

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Email me at: jackfeeny@yahoo.co.uk