This decade marks the 20th anniversary of The Strokes’ debut album “Is This It.” From the moment that the record hit stores, it’s created a phenomenon and launched a garage band phenomenon that defined rock music for the early 2000s. Once their shirt landed on Shia Lebouf’s chest in Transformers (2007), it was clear that they have been destined for an immortality thanks to their confessional style, sung in a low hum by Julian Casablancas underneath the guitars that sounded like they were bouncing off the walls of a club packed to the walls with fans singing along. It was hard to deny their charm, making the lo-fi approach such a captivating experience for listeners.
Despite having produced a strong body of work, one has to return to the question they first posed on that album: Was that it? Of course, the answer is no. They now have six records to their name, though not nearly as resonant as they once were. They even took most of the 2010s off. Many complained that their subsequent work was too similar to the first record, finding their sound not really evolving in any interesting manner. Those who loved the sound had plenty to like, but whereas bands like The White Stripes expanded, The Strokes continued to exist in this existential ether.
What would The Strokes be long term? Could they really get by doing the same sound for the rest of their career? If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. They may have gotten smaller in stature, but they still have a few tricks up their sleeves.
When they were last seen, The Strokes had released the album “Comedown Machine” in 2013. It’s not that they stopped producing music, but they decided to work on various solo projects and expand their own personal sound. Usually, when this happens, it manages to make an understanding of what makes a band strong and even interesting. In some cases, it’s a chance to expand on the familiar. In others, it’s a way to return to basics.
Following some delay, The Strokes have finally returned with “The New Abnormal.” Much like a lot of music being released right now, there’s something fun and unintentionally ironic about what follows. The title alone feels like some quirky commentary on self-quarantine culture, where we’re forced to find new ways to live a “normal” life. However, it’s more of a commentary on where the band is going with this new album. They are still producing music that will make fans proud, but they have more of a nostalgic and self-reflective eye this time, looking back on their careers and wanting to make amends for past mistakes.
If you’re expecting more of the same garage rock style that the band is known for, then I got some good news for you. The guitar still drives like it did 20 years ago, managing to express a melancholy complimented by Casablancas’ voice. If there’s any addition this time around, it’s a nostalgic fusion of other styles, specifically when it comes to 80s rock. Not like hair metal, but more of a synthesizer here or a Velvet Underground there. At one point a song even borrows the melody of Billy Idol’s “Dancing With Myself” and thus forces a co-writer credit to him. The sound has grown bigger even as it becomes more nostalgic, feeling like it was picked up at a garage sale with a grungy cover. As you take the vinyl off, a layer of dust flies off, holding clues to an unknown era.
The best and worst thing that can be said about this record is that it sounds very old. The production still has that lo-fi charm, managing to capture a band warped in their own style. Nothing has really changed for them even when it has more flourishes. That may be for the best, as it means that the sound has a flexibility to it that allows for things to evolve without it being a distraction or a complete 180° from what we know. It’s like the harp playing as we enter a flashback, presenting something that we probably would’ve seen had we entered a rock club in the mid-80s, and that’s exactly what The Strokes want.
Even then, their content has a timelessness to their contemporary subjects. Things kick off with “The Adults Are Talking.” Like every other musician at the moment, there’s a desire to comment on politics. Casablancas presents his commentary on the 1% who run the government and his desire to see a change in leadership. It’s a fair enough comment to make, especially since it feels like he’s been a cicada having to hold onto his opinion until he emerged. It comes with such aggression that it makes one wonder what other frustrations he has inside of him. The guitars still crunch the same, driving him to the point.
While there’s a fit of anger through many of the other songs, it’s not nearly as apparent on the rest. “Selfless” finds the band discussing a relationship that they don’t want to end. They plead “Please don’t be long, cause I want your love.” There’s a sadness when the person disappears, making one desire to see this relationship keep going. It has helped him to grow emotionally as a person, making him see the wonders of life.
The album doesn’t stop reminiscing as it cuts to the catchy next song “Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus.” It’s a song that could be seen as a man not wanting to change, but in a quarantine context becomes amusing:
I want new friends, but they don't want me
They're making plans while I watch TV
Thought it was them, but maybe it's me
I want new friends, but they don't want me
Still, it cuts to the core of what this record wants to sound like. It’s adding 80s flair to make the sound pop with a new life. Casablancas sings about his past and how things were better, though maybe it was because of how naïve he was while intoxicated with his demons. There is so much that draws him to this memory. It’s a real learning curve for him. There’s sadness, happiness, and it all drives through with a beautiful hook backing things up. The same goes for “Bad Decisions,” which is another single from the album, and an even poppier melody that still is true to The Strokes sound.
When diving into this record, it feels like the latest in a long line of recent records that are coming to terms with an emotional balance. In the past month albums by the likes of The Weeknd and Dua Lipa have all shown this self-reflection that is likely drawn from the dark and dramatic world that has emerged in recent years. It’s easy to understand why The Strokes were drawn to it, especially since the guitars and vocals all have this looming dread to them that force you to be drawn into the substance.
The back half is especially melancholic. Whereas the front half feels like it’s pushing and pulling with nostalgic bliss, the sadness starts around “At the Door.” It’s the first song to slow down, creating a ballad that is somber. Even the lyrics come across as a deeper, more complicated look of the self:
Struck me like a chord
I'm an ugly boy
Holdin' out the night
Lonely after light
Bangin' on the door
I don't wanna know
Sinkin' like a stone
So use me like an oar
It’s about an endless goal that cannot be achieved when a relationship ends. Considering that this follows the jubilant center “Eternal Summer,” it’s interesting to hear Casablancas begin his dive into depression. Even the track names become sadder with “Why Are Sundays So Depressing?” and “Not the Same Anymore.” While they have more of an upbeat purpose to them, it doesn’t necessarily mean that things are looking up.
This is a much more mature record for The Strokes, and that creates an admirable mix of tracks. At only nine songs, there’s not a lot of room for filler. If there’s anything that’s fascinating, it’s the atmosphere’s use of interstitial studio moments, capturing the build of this album over the four years of recording. Even if there’s this hazy quality, the band never lacks a personality.
It all ends with “Ode to the Mets,” which is seen as a commentary from the band on their fans. Over their lengthy career, they have strayed from them in crucial moments and are here to apologize for it. The quietness slowly builds like snow on a New York landscape, capturing the weight of their desire to atone for past mistakes. Much like everything else on the album, they long to make things right. There’s optimism in the sadness, and it’s what makes the record more than an unbearable whine-fest.
As far as records go, The Strokes have released another charming record for their fans. There’s enough of their work excelling at mixing lo-fi atmosphere with more upbeat techniques that make the subject matter far more engaging than it has any right to be. Considering how the quarantine has made some of us more self-reflexive, it’s a record that fits the time, looking back on the past and desiring to better oneself. It may not do anything revolutionary otherwise. If you don’t love the way that the guitar drives along, it’s an especially monotonous record. Even then, the band has grown and found a way to carry on even without the world watching them. In fact, it’s allowed them to figure out what’s important to them, and they do so with a good, reliable force.
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