That's the end of that...more?

Dress me slowly (I like my title better...) the last of it... Casablancas and Hammond Jr are hot-to-trot in their more sensible fashion purchases for the day. The singer leans on the mic, detached yet demonstrative. Hammond Jr wears his guitar way too high. Valensi is all style at stage right, while Romano drums astutely, given his temporary role. Bassist Fraiture, the quiet Stroke, is steady as ever. Q, accepting an enthusiastic proposal by the band to continue the interview post-gig, evades several unimpressed security guards, bounding backstage to help glow in the glory of a gig well played. Oddly, the mood is mixed, the band stretched out on loungers, sipping on Coronas. They're obviously too tired to talk it up, though Hammond Jr, despite a more immediate problem, is forthcoming. "Sorry dude. the zip's broken on my fucking pants." As Hammond Jr rues his broken fly, he talks of the constant comparisons his band endures. There's a sense that The Strokes may be embedded in something of a New York City tradition, but decades on from the likes of Velvet underground and Television, their 21st century experience is understandably their own. "It took us a year and a half to find our own sound," says the guitarist. "We like so much stuff. If you go to a record store you'll find our CD in the rock or pop category. But the music is more worldly than that, just because of the way we think." "The best thing to say about how we sound is to say, Go check them out," he adds. "If the person in the band can't even describe what we sound like, then how the hell are you gonna do it?"

to talk it up though Hammond Jr, despite a more immediate problem, is forthcoming. "Sorry dude. the zip's broken on my fucking pants."

...embedded in something of a New York City tradition, their 21st century experience is understandably their own. Go check them out...