The Strokes
“*Masturbates violently*” – Every music critic alive
“Well…fuck. I guess I have to get in line to suck Julian’s dick now. Goddamnit, this’ll take a long time. Fucking Erlewine’s been at it for like half an hour. You know, SOME OF US HAVE OTHER THINGS TO DO, STEVEN! Ass.” – Me
Albums Reviewed:
Blasting out
of a really rich prep school in
And, on that note, onto the review(s)!
Is This It? (2001)
Rating: 8
Best Song: “Last Nite”
Goddammit. I HATE it when critics are right. I mean, I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY hate it. Fucking hipster Kid A-hating ass-raping motherfuckers. As a general rule of thumb, whenever the “general critical establishment” hails a band as “the next big thing” or whatnot, they’re usually wrong, and the band is usually mediocre, and the band is also usually gone in like a year or some shit. I wanted to kill the fucking Strokes before I’d even heard ONE GODDAMN SONG by them. I SOOOOOOO bought into the anti-hype. I wanted to hate them. I SO VERY MUCH wanted to hate them. SO VERY MUCH.
Alas, I can’t. Now, these guys are NOT “the greatest band in the world” (Hello, Radiohead!), nor are they even in the top 10 or whatever. What they are is really good. Really, really good. I mean, what can I say? Every song on this thirty-five minute shamalamadingdong is fun, and bouncy, and catchy, and well-written, and, just, GOOD! WHAT CAN I DOOOOO???? How I am I to resist the hype??? I mean, my favorite current bands hovering around nowadays (Radiohead, System Of A Down, etc.) tend to be so because they’re weird and different and just a welcome break from all the Creed-schlock all over modern rock radio. But I have a soft spot as well for just good, old-fashioned, regular guitar pop-rock. Without “angst.” Without rapping. And, most of all, without Scott Stapp. I really fucking hate Scott Stapp. And these guys fit the bill. OH yes, they do.
I’m not saying they’re GODS or whatever, but, as I think I’ve already mentioned like ten times, this band is GOOD, very GOOD, and, when compared to everything else around, they really do deserve all the critical fellatio they’ve been getting since they first got together in their parents’ basement. This album is just eleven 2-to-4 minute explosions of bouncy, fun poppy rock. Every song is so deceptively simple, too. Like “I could’ve come up with that!” But, YOU DIDN’T, did you? No, you didn’t. Just a simple, repetitive, fill-less drum pattern (I can play the whole album, and I SUCK at drums, mind you), brilliantly simple and bouncy bassline, two simple, chimey guitar lines layered so tightly on top of each other, and that ugly Julian guy with his (why????) slightly-distorted vocals on top singing about chicks and stuff in such a neat sort of slacker, “I don’t give a fuck” manner. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Eleven times.
OK, FINE, some songs are better than others, but the gap between the best song (the ubiquitous, unavoidable, and impossible-to-dislike single “Last Nite”) and the worst song (oh, I dunno, “Trying Your Luck,” maybe) is very narrow, at least compared to about 90% of the albums out there today. You think EVERY song on Human Clay is as SWEEEEEET as “With Arms Wide Open?” HA! Oh…wait. “With Arms Wide Open” is fucking terrible. Never mind, then. Alright, you think EVERY song on Is This It? is as good as “Last Nite” (“oh, it’s alright baby…yeah!” *cool guitar solo*)? Well, YOUUUUUUUUUU are correct, sir! Er…pretty much.
The album is not without complaints, I guess, or it would’ve gotten a rating higher than an 8. The absence of a truly ORGASMIC song throughout this thing is ineligible for the 10 position, but YOU try creating something truly orgasmic out of simple three-minute retro-garage rock tunes! YOU TRY IT, MOTHERFUCKER! And the drummer’s style (though it actually does fit the band nicely) is boring and repetitive. He sounds like a fucking robot. Or electronic drum set. Whichever. I SWEAR the part to “Hard To Explain” really WAS laid down by an electronic kit. At least it sounds like it. Plus he’s dating Drew Barrymore right now, which is even more random than Tom Green dating Drew Barrymore, as hard as that is to believe. And Julian’s vocals’ being distorted is completely useless (though things could be a lot worse, ofcourse…I mean, Geddy Lee could be in the band). However, it does add to that “world-weary” vibe he’s trying to create by never showering, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, or changing his clothes. He’s dirty, Julian is.
Very good
album, though. Can’t
go higher than 8, but still a good, solid 8. The British version of the album has a
different album cover and track listing, too, if you care. The album cover over there in
Oh, no, shit. Sorry. He’s a bleeding-LIVER liberal.
OK, then, how about Barney Frank?
Oh, no, shit. Sorry. He’s a bleeding-ANUS liberal.
Ha-HA!
Oleg
Sobolev (dima@aspol.ru) writes:
"New York City
Cops" is the only reason for this band to exist. The Datsuns
rule my world.
Room On Fire (2003)
Rating: 9
Best Song: “What Ever Happened?”
YES! Awesome. I seriously considered dusting off the 10 for this scrumdiddlyumptiously fine record for a bit, and, though I eventually thought better of it, this is probably the best album I’ve heard from 2003 (admittedly, I’ve only heard like 10 or 15…but it’s better than Elephant and it’s better than Hail to the Thief, so, sure, what the hey…best album of the year!!!). Up until this point, I’ve been residing in a nice, quiet little seat at the back end of the Strokes’ bandwagon, but now someone better reserve me a seat up in front. Because this album is FANTASTIC!!!!
WHY is it so fantastic, you ask? Well, see, the band’s done something I would have said was impossible: They’ve completely changed their style, yet not changed their style at all. None of these songs could have been on Is This It?, yet no other band right now could have written these songs. The super-fast, fun, poppy party atmosphere of Is This It? is gone, replaced by slower, a little more distorted, a little muddier, a little more reflective, and much more intricate compositions. BUT THEY’RE JUST AS FUN AND CATCHY AS BEFORE!!! That’s the great part. The opener, “What Ever Happened?” is probably the 2nd-best song I’ve heard this year (“2+2=5” is now officially my favorite Radiohead song of all time, so that’s tough to top), and the hooks (multiple!) refuse to not get stuck in your head, but it’s so much different than before. There’s a cool-as-my-ass little melodic guitar solo break (as there is in probably 2/3 of these songs…and it ALWAYS, ALWAYS RULES) in there, the guitar tones are distorted up a but more, the tempo is slower, and the lyrics are depressing!!! “I wanna be forgotten, and I don’t wanna be reminded! You say, ‘Please don’t make this harder.’ No, I wooooooon’t…yet.” But it’s still unmistakably the Strokes, and it’s still unmistakably farging brilliant. When the guitar chords and Julian’s wailings break in over the boppy bass and drum intro…well, fuck, that is one BOMBASTIC way to open an album. And it’s awesome.
I’m telling you, I’m excited right now. I never really considered myself that big of a Strokes fan until I heard the first single, “12:51,” was COMPLETELY taken aback by its insane goodness (and the guitar solo tone that sounds like a goofy Cars keyboard thingy! I forking love that thingy!!!!!), and then spent the next month and a half awaiting this album like a little kid waiting for Christmas. And, somehow, I mean, I’m not disappointed AT ALL. The first four or five songs on this record are practically perfect. “Automatic Stop?” That chorus??? Fuck yes. Fuck yes. “Waaaaiiiiiiit, I’m gonna give it a breeeeaaaaaak. I’m not your friieeeeeeeeend. I neeeever WAAAAAAAAS!!!” Underpinned by that guitar line??? Fuck yes. Fuck yes.
The reason I’m not giving this album a 10 is that a few songs in the second half don’t quite measure up to the first handful (for instance, everyone seems to love the pseudo-ballad “Under Control,” but I actually think it’s mediocre and the worst song here…eh. Probably shouldn’t listen to me. I’m not that smart. I’m the only person thus far to actually say this album is better than their debut. See? Not that smart.), but, just like their first album, every song here is good! Mostly because they’ve crafted this album so much more meticulously than Is This It? and stuck so many sections, guitar melodies, breaks, and poop in the tunes that there’s always something to like. Think (stupidly) that “The End Has No End” isn’t that good? Well, just wait, and that Cars-synthesizer guitar thingy from “12:51” will pop in again! YES! I love that thingy. Don’t like the heavy guitars (fuck “jangly,” the guitars in this song are heavy) in the intro to “The Way it is?” Wait for the verses to come along! They’re all electro-happy (but in a good way!) and thoughtfully arranged and layered. It’s absolutely great farging stuff.
And that’s really the biggest improvement in this album from the first, and even though I’ve mentioned it like five times already, I’m gonna mention it again: The thought put into this thing. Is This It? was a great bunch of fun songs, but the band could have recorded it in a week and I wouldn’t be all that surprised. Not so Room on Fire. The melodies and songwriting may not have advanced all that much (if at all) from the last album (except “What Ever Happened?”, “Automatic Stop,” and “12:51,” which rule more than even they themselves know), but everything here is just so thoughtfully and carefully produced. Albert Hammond’s rhythm guitar strumming and Nick Valensi’s lead guitar tastiness ALWAYS have separate, distinct, interesting thingamabobs to do and counteract each other with. A few of Smokin’ Joe Fraiture’s basslines (the intro to “What Ever Happened?” is still the best example of this) are absolutely perfect and out-and-out make some sections of tunes. Fab Moretti’s drumming is still boring as all get-out, and Julian’s vocals are still annoyingly distorted (though they fit MUCH better with the weariness and distortiony-ness of this album than the fun party-ness of the first), but everything just meshes on this record. It’s sort of hard to explain, but there’s nary a note, chord, bassline, or bass drum kick out of place. These guys aren’t virtuosos or anything, but they know how to make absolutely captivating arrangements with their limited (but rapidly expanding) set of instrumental skills and tricks. This is not your average guitar pop-rock band. These guys are good, they know they’re good, and I don’t even think they’ve fulfilled their potential yet (and, I mean, this album is VERY close to getting a 10). Should be fun to see where they go, eh?
And if you still don’t buy what I’m telling you here, consider what some of these lyrics here sounded like to a jaded, lonely college student embarking on senior year, extremely hesitant but ready to set out on the rest of his life (though completely uncertain as to what any of it might hold): “Kiss me now that I’m older. I won’t try to control ya. Friday night’s a bit lonely. Take it slow but don’t warn me.”
Amen, Julian. You dirty, dirty man.
GoFunBurnMan13@aol.com
writes:
Come on man, give it a 10. You know it deserves it.
You & me might be the
only people in the world who agree this album is actually a step up from the
debut, but it's a viewpoint as valid as any other. Catchier,
better-written &
more interesting than Is This It, these songs break the Strokes out of the
already-stagnant "rough garage rock" category, and elevate them
into a wonderful
nearly modern-sounding collection of melodic pop rockers. To think the guy who
came up with early basic old skool rocknroll shit like "Barely Legal" could
write an emotional anthem as powerful as "You Talk Way Too Much" or
"The End Has
No End" only TWO years later is amazing. My guess is, he'll only
continue to
mature as a songwriter.
You already mentioned all the instrumental improvements & slower
tempos(which
is a good thing, it shows how badly Julian didn't want to rehash Is This It)
of the songs, so I'll just mention one more thing: With this lyrics sheet, I
think I've finally realized why Julian's vocals are always distorted: because
his lyrics suck! He has nothing to say as a lyricist, and I think he's aware of
that. But he says them in such catchy ways, it's impossible to not
get it
stuck in your head. Treat his voice as just another instrument in the mix, and
suddenly it doesn't sound distracting or unnecessary at all! Just fits right
into the young-confused-don't care-I'm cool vibe every song has got going on
it. May not be my favorite record of the year, but it's up there in the top 3
maybe, surrounded by Tomahawk's Mit Gas, consonant's
Love And Affliction, and
perhaps Pearl Jam's Lost Dogs. If that one counts. They might not have
deserved
the label of "rocknroll's saviors" the
first time around, but here it sounds
like they're actually trying to live up to that name, in their own way.
The
hype is real. Get it right now.
First Impressions Of
Earth (2006)
Rating: 8
Best Song: “You Only Live Once”
Music critics are petty,
pathetic little bastards. They’re
fickle. It was just, what, four years
ago that the Strokes were THE NEXT BIG THING of every reputable,
semi-reputable, and not-at-all reputable (Hello, me!) music critic on the face
of the Earth (with “the Earth,” ofcourse, meaning the
I call bullshit. I call bullshit on the whole damn system that builds bands up to impossible heights only to knock them down the moment they become too popular (the same thing happened with Coldplay last year and is happening with the Darkness right now). You can’t rise or lower your grades for a given album based on how hip it is to like a band at the moment. And while I’m not saying First Impressions of Earth is a great album or anywhere near the Strokes’ best (as, weirdly enough, people who heretofore didn’t like the Strokes seem to be saying), it is a very strong album that deserves to be credited as such, not a failure or disappointment of any kind (christ, Pitchfork gave this thing a 5.9…you have got to be kidding me). I’m definitely placing it third out of the Strokes’ three albums, but the difference between its quality and that of Is This It?, while certainly there, is simply not that big. And Room on Fire still owns my ass.
And now I’ll actually talk about the music. As I said before, the Strokes apparently made this album to “show” people that they could write songs longer than 2:30, albums longer than half an hour, and do things besides write brilliantly tight, fast jangle-rock singles. They simultaneously succeeded and failed at this. While they showed that were certainly capable of writing in styles slightly outside of their comfort zone while still maintaining that Strokes “aura” and producing quality material, after listening to this album a number of times it becomes clear the Strokes, while definitely good at other things, are best at the kind of short, snappy rock stuff that was on their first two albums, which means the best songs here are almost uniformly the ones that most sound like they could be on those records. Also, as with Room on Fire, much of the top-shelf material is placed toward the front, including the fantastic lead-off track “You Only Live Once” and “Heart in a Cage,” which are both as snappy and tight as anything they’ve ever splooged out. “Razorblade” is a little more sluggish, but the guitarwork in the verses is excellent and the “my feelings are moooore important than yooouuuuuurs” chorus sounds great. “Juicebox” (apparently the single, but since I don’t listen to the radio anymore I wouldn’t even know) is the fastest thing here, but goes for a dark, heavy-rock vibe (the opening guitar riffs are almost metal!) absent from any previous Strokes material. While it might not be as melodic as, say, “You Only Live Once,” it’s as energetic as anything here and definitely appreciated in my book. Special “props” as well to the closer “Red Light,” with its fantastic guitar plucking and ultra-cool “Get yourself a lawyer and a guuuuuuuuuuun!” line.
The rest of the album constitutes what I call “the great, unwashed middle” (coincidentally, also my term for the majority of the area of the United States east of LA and west of Philadelphia…no, I’m not a pompous New England liberal at all, I swear), in which the album’s new tricks occasionally overwhelm some of the songs. Nick Valensi and Fab Moretti have somehow become showoffs since Room on Fire came out, and while most of Valensi’s quick-picking tangents are welcome (he has a great tone), the number of times I wish Moretti would stop trying to be Neil Peart and just stick to basic four on the floor are far too many (not that hard to do, douche). What you’re gonna get on much of this record is Valensi’s new-found busyness on lead guitar (which, again, I like), slightly more complicated song structures, and an abundance of vaguely-depresso-singalong choruses, like the “You’re no FUUUUUUN! You’re no FUUUUUUN!” one in “Fear of Sleep” (which rules, a fortunate thing due to the verses’ being absolutely awful) and the one in “On the Other Side” that repeats the song title 800 times (which sucks, an unfortunate thing due to the verses’ being absolutely grand).
The only two times I truly dislike what I’m hearing are when the band decides to sound nothing at all like the Strokes. “Vision of Division” sounds like System of a Down using indie-rock jangle guitars (seriously), complete with totally out of place middle-eastern break and everything. I don’t hate the song. I just think the Strokes sound really odd playing this kind of stuff, and ultra-fast chugga-chugga riffs are not meant to be played with high, squealy, jangly guitar tones. The worst offender, though, is the useless “Ask Me Anything,” which puts great emphasis on the fact that Julian Casablancas’ lyrics are consistently horrific by having no musical background whatsoever beyond what is either an echoed guitar or keyboard playing what sounds like a circular cello riff being run through a distortion box (I mean, “don’t be a coconut?” The fuck is that supposed to mean? Awful). The lack of distortion effects placed on Julian’s vocals (which is the case throughout the entire album, actually) doesn’t help, either, as they become even more front-and-center than they would be otherwise. This song sucks balls.
But I digress. This really is a worthwhile album, and while it’s not up to the quality of the band’s earlier records and unfortunately lacking in the “snap” department, anyone who claims it’s anything less than “real good” is fooling themselves and/or buying into the bullshit. The Strokes didn’t just suddenly stop being good, trust me.