Angles - The Strokes

Angles

The Strokes
RCA Records.


SCQ Rating: 74%

A wrench snagged up the Strokes’ promotional gears just weeks before record-release when Pitchfork aired a ten-year retrospective that quoted band members clearly disgruntled about Angles’ recording process. Upon first read, it signaled doomsday for the NYC group once relentlessly billed as rock saviors but the word-of-mouth it created (in no small part among Pitchfork devotees who shun like a reflex) has actually rendered Angles an effective litmus test for determining the Strokes’ continued relevance in certain cliques. Would-be pundits online were outright panning it on the day of its leaked while major print publications (Spin, Los Angeles Times) quickly championed it as if vying for way-late cool points. For those old-school fans waiting on a physical release, it was difficult determining which group you could trust.

What nobody likely predicted was that the Strokes had a grower record in them, one that would come out at a time when the band is no longer post-millenial sensations or scrappy major-label underdogs. To be a Strokes fan in 2011 – especially in the face of an album reportedly pieced together by various members when pressured and alone – means depending upon one’s own judgement and no longer relying on the undeniable cool that deemed their first two LPs universally accepted. Although its risks likely emerged not because of a common goal but as an effect of shitty band relations (where the closest contact Casablancas had to the band was by emailing his vocals to the studio), Angles reflects that fragmented experience in a way that's mostly complimentary.

The reggae-tinged lark that is ‘Machu Picchu’ forecasts not only a great album that never comes to be, but a flurry of other career moves over its following half-hour. On one hand, ‘Two Kinds of Happiness’ continues in the vein of Room On Fire’s occasional retro muse with a Billy Idol inspired anthem whereas ‘Games’ ups the polish for a dance-friendly pulse. These detours, after a few listens, sit pleasantly with their lankier guitar-fare (‘Taken For a Fool’, ‘Under Cover Of Darkness’), making good on the unspoken promise of a Strokes album less bloated than First Impressions Of Earth but still lightly experimental.

Repeat listens, while crucial, won’t buffer out Angles’ odd weak point. The trajectory of ‘Call Me Back’ quits just when it’s gaining momentum and the half-finished ‘You’re So Right’ pillages the considerable steam built up by the record’s first three tracks. Moments like these have stifled fans’ cries of “comeback” but they’ve also beckoned the trolls from their caves; those same kids who’ve long accused the Strokes of being privileged, overnight success-stories. Old habits may die hard for some, but nearly a decade after the band’s peak popularity and subsequent backlash, Angles offers enough quality to keep both the fan-boys and haters somewhat frustrated.

49. Room On Fire – The Strokes (2003)

(Taken from the SCQ Review:)

There are some acts you don’t necessarily want to change, either because you recognize their limitations or enjoy what they have to offer. In the case of the Strokes, it’s the latter; their 30 minute records of slick Velvet Underground-influenced rock were effortlessly better than First Impressions of Earth, which almost sounded purposeful. Room On Fire best illustrates any band’s philosophy on living the high life, while leaving the tedious posturing for the magazine cover-shoots.

Phrazes For the Young - Julian Casablancas

Phrazes For the Young

Julian Casablancas
RCA Records.

SCQ Rating: 77%

Even before several Strokes-oriented side-projects littered the marketplace these last few years, it was difficult to predict a lucrative launch-date for a Julian Casablancas solo album. It was First Impressions of Earth, the record that earned mixed reviews in 2006 but has since become the public pissing-ground for every accolade the Strokes ever received, that spawned this ever-present pessimism for the NY quintet. Whether the backlash was warranted or not, over or still widespread, it’s a shame that Julian and the boys took the whipping their hype machine behind them deserved. Since the band’s falling-out, nobody has kept a lower profile than Casablancas who, as serendipitous timing would have it, has finally stepped forth with new music just as every music magazine is remembering Strokes’ albums for their Best-of-00s lists. A truce, then?

Of course, for a songwriter who was coerced into repeating his debut’s strategy for Room On Fire (which some fans found too similar), then convinced to branch out in new directions (which everyone argued was too different), Casablancas can’t be blamed for approaching the press side of Phrazes For the Young with a nervous apprehension. In one interview, he’ll talk at length about Phrazes… being inspired by his love of symphonies and how he was tempted to go further outside the box, while another interview will find him clamping down, insisting he only recorded a solo album to kill time before a Strokes reunion. Such a shame, when Phrazes For the Young is certainly deserving of Casablancas’ gushing; an album that experiments well beyond the uncertain steps of First Impressions of Earth and finds his swagger no less effective in this Bladerunner-esque, retroactive future.

Although Casablancas seems to be sitting at the command of his stereophonic spaceship in Phrazes…' cover-art, there’s no shortage of history in those wooden floorboards. ‘Out of the Blue’ sports the most Strokes-friendly guitar-work here while ‘11th Dimension’ fits some more tense, excitedly rhythmic guitar into its bridge. Besides those faint hallmarks and Casablancas’ familiar voice, however, these eight tracks have an altogether heightened agenda; combining intricately woven synths, drum machines and electronic beats with more traditional instruments, Phrazes For the Young seeks to attain the same rock’n’roll dynamics without tripping over itself. With just about every song clocking in at over the five-minute mark, that ambition often goes wanting, especially when ‘Tourist’ never deviates from its somber marching and ‘Ludlow St.’ rambles on like a bored, late-period Van Morrison ballad. The fact of the matter is that these compositions are too busy and lengthy to not go anywhere special, and occasionally it seems as though Casablancas prioritized small details over song foundations.

Still, once you adjust to the album’s pacing, this collection vindicates itself as a spacey and pop-centric odyssey. ‘River of Brakelights’ has all the urgency and thrills of vintage Strokes, coated with an electro-pop sheen, while ‘Glass’ features Casablancas’ stand-out dramatics, all beat-heavy with layered synths. As strange as this may sound, it’s rare to hear a spaced-out rock symphony maintain such testosterone, and while Phrazes For the Young may take a few listens to reveal its bounties, it’s rewarding to hear Casablancas reignite his creative whims without sacrificing the leather jacket.

5.) Room On Fire - The Strokes (ST. PATTY'S 2008)

Room on Fire

The Strokes
RCA Records.

SCQ Rating: 82%

Timing is everything, as the popular saying goes, and few bands in recent years can attest to that phrase’s veracity quite like The Strokes. In the grand cosmos of music press buffoonery, the New York quintet has been more highly praised and wrongly done than any other major label act I care to think about. Their 2001 debut, Is This It?, was immediately called a classic, with music mags calling it the best album to come out of New York in twenty years. It wasn’t, and hindsight of this fact caught on so quickly, most magazines could’ve written retractions in their next issue. It was, however, one of the year’s best rock records, and (alongside the White Stripes) ushered in the garage-rock revival, which only made expectations for their return greater. While Room on Fire is probably better than their debut, it failed to satisfy a press machine that two years earlier accredited The Strokes as “Saviours of Rock and Roll”.

While a brief glance at the Billboard 200 at the turn of the millennium will indicate why The Strokes were held in such high regard (Nsync, Jay-Z, and Britney kept the charts knee-deep in pop), The Strokes never wanted the prestige or burden of such a position and Room On Fire is an excellent exhibit of that hesitation. Another half-hour collection of melodic swagger, The Strokes change very little: their rhythm section is still air-tight, their guitar riffs are learnable within ten minutes, and Julian Casablancas is singing through his phone-booth studio microphone again.

If their success had gone to their heads at all, it simply made them more confident as musicians. ‘What Ever Happened’ starts things off with the anthemic proclamation “I want to be forgotten and I don’t want to be reminded”, and it’s about as dramatic a lyric as you’ll find on disc, as if whatever tragedy preceded his mood has predestined the album’s content. Luckily, Casablancas’ plan to forget himself is to go on a bender; Room On Fire is all about nights that won’t end if you hold them long enough and those good people who’ll follow you down for one last drink. The all-or-nothing lyrics “We could go and get 40s/Fuck goin’ to that party/Oh really, your folks are away now?/Alright, let’s go, you convinced me,” fit well with ’12:51’s 80s keyboard, and the overall festive feel to this sophomore effort.

There are some acts you don’t necessarily want to change, either because you recognize their limitations or enjoy what they have to offer. In the case of the Strokes, it’s the latter; their 30 minute records of slick Velvet Underground-influenced rock were effortlessly better than First Impressions of Earth, which almost sounded purposeful. Room On Fire best illustrates any band’s philosophy on living the high life, while leaving the tedious posturing for the magazine cover-shoots.