The Strokes.

Nine years on from the creation of The Strokes, the charming New Yorkers returned more like a bull at a gate than a formative group, shaking awake the noughties, a period engulfed with modern awfulness. The band formed after their juvenile delinquent vocalist, an alcoholic at thirteen, was sent to Switzerland, to become dry. There he met Albert Hammond Jr. in unison, they ventured to the Big Apple. Flat-sharing in a downtown eerie Manhattan side-street. They soon after performed at a local bar, the Lunar Lounge in Manhattan, on the lower East side of New York. Where the bar’s booker saw a spark, he abruptly quit his job and became the manager of this misguided set of youths. Then came the hard part, making the first album. As such an unknown act, full of youngsters, it was hard to get a second glance. Eventually they got their chance, and produced the album, containing massive releases such as ‘New York city cops’, ‘Someday’ and ‘Last night’. The band consists of Julian Casablancas, Nick Valensi, Albert Hammond, Nikolai Fraiture and Fabrizio Moretti. From the opening note of their first release, The Modern Age, they were compelling. Top boy Casablancas sneered his way through their debut album, Is This It, with his untouchable soft voice. he wouldn't even deign to look at you. His perhaps oversized ego wouldn’t allow him to come down to earth, still, they sounded cool, they were aesthetically pleasing, what more could you want? Bands globally held great envy, condescending in an influx of shabby imitators wearing skinny ties and shrunken jeans, with their long wino-style hair and rough uneven stubble, it spread like a particularly virulent garden weed. It became certain The Strokes could not be uprooted. But in 2003, the album Room on Fire, granted tepid reviews, and the third album was stunningly similar. Weary of the massive expectance, the debauchery, the Keith Richards references, the relentless digs that they were drug addicted sex obsessed pretty-boys, and realisation that they were perhaps under a spotlight too bright, they found a hole, and buried themselves. Into nocturnalism, they were alive at night, and only appeared in the underground scene. All be it not too often. For a few years, we didn’t hear much. They dwindled, it seemed they were shrouded away in the shrubs of the Amazon jungle, they would re-appear at the odd gig, perhaps when they needed money. Casablancas, took time out to create a solo album, Phrases for the young,  which he produced in the States. and with only realy supporting ‘the sick six’, touted as four averagely talented Americans, his project wasn’t a massive success. He himself went quiet, performing small gigs at unknown, miniscule venues, just to pay the rent, as it were. Then followed the audacious decision for a clothing range, which came and went, it never kicked off. Just a handful of items were released and only sold on the band website, bar two, which appeared in an up-market boutique store in a creditable American high street. The products were very 80’s style, Kinks and Doors type apparel. Very showy, slick and sophisticated. It was the inelasticity of the products pricing which deterred the custom, prices comfortably surpassing the one hundred pound mark. Selfishly it seemed they had forgotten about the middle class. It simply wasn’t good marketing, shadowed by self-catered greed. The band emerged again in early 2010. With the underlined motivation to send many ‘false’ opinionated squeaky teens, back to the 90’s, where an endeavour of bona fide music was made. As it seemed they were being forced down the dead end road, full of irritable, over-passionate music, made for girls. So it looked like the band were standing up for the bygone era, in an attempt to reignite media interest, for the right reasons. Essentially, boldly putting themselves back on the map. With this in mind, they agreed to headline the Leeds and Reading festivals, this was the perfect place to showcase their talents. Knowing thousands of unhygienic music pilgrims would make it to the mud fests. They hit the stage hard and lit up the fully filled field, tracks such as ’12:51’ and ‘Hard to explain’ particularly pleased the fans. This past year they have been heavily involved with Gus Oberg, an award winning engineer, along with a well renowned production team in San Francisco. In aim of a perfect sound, they want to hit the ground running. They seem to be a lot happier. Enjoying what they are doing, and wanting to please people. Today, the Strokes are set to resurface with a new record collection, currently unnamed, they have matured in a cheese-like fashion, arguably better and changing slightly. More era-typical, less old fashioned. The new album is less invasive and more desirable. As a result, it gives you those ups and downs, that euphoric rush. Fans apprehend this is the juicy main course following the impressive appetizers, ‘Is This it?’, ‘Juicebox’ and ‘First Impressions of Earth’. Hoping it is full of succulent but sensual topics. They are believed to soon announce a world tour scheduled for late this year, rumored to be starting with several venues at the UK, then heading over to Europe for shows in Germany and France, and of course returning to the States for a homely atmosphere.