Cant you see the sky is not the limit any more
I remember the discovery of my favorite band like it was yesterday, even though it was nearly five years ago. It was 1 AM, a week or so before school started. I was flipping around channels on the TV in my basement, trying to find something interesting. And when I turned to MTV, I got MTV2 instead, for just the briefest of minutes. It was a concert, and there was this loutish young brat stumbling across bleachers, screaming aw dont fucking go!, while a catchy tune (which would later come to be known to me as Hard To Explain) scratched itself out of the mono speaker.
The brat was Julian Casablancas. His band was The Strokes. As he came back down to the stage to finish off the song, I sat down on my couch and finished watching the entire concert. I was amazed at the sheer bravado of a guy to waltz around and yell obscenities at his audience, and couldnt help but enjoy the stripped-bare, sunshine-ray sound that the guitars were making. These guys were good; they knew how to play.
A couple of months later, with Last Nite storming the radio, I picked up the album and tore into the packaging. And my world was expanded.
So what is it about The Strokes? What is that mysterious confection in the air that makes me enjoy them? Ive thought about this from time to time, wondering where I went off the path I was on (Disturbed and Papa Roach) and began to push into discovering Bob Dylan, The Replacements, The Velvet Underground, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Springsteen
That path of discovery came from The Strokes. I remember the snappiness of Is This It, how it was on top of the very edge of songwriting. Everything was quick, simple, and was only there if it had to. It felt spacious, yet tied down. There was air that could be electrified in the songs, but they were under the bands complete control. Barely Legal, if anything, is the best example of that I can think of. From the snap-snap-snap of the snare drum at the beginning to the sudden change from tight and quiet to expansive and loud, the way choruses should always sound, I couldnt help but fall in love with it.
Of course, this early, the band showed their pop-music skills. Someday, The Modern Age, Last Nite, Hard To Explain. Melody-driven and fucking catchy. But all of those lack in comparison to the jam-packed Take It Or Leave It. So many times have I listened to that song and fell in love with something different. At first it was Julians angry, violated voice, the way his voice became ragged at the end; it turned to Fab Morettis incredibly tight and precise drumming, to the chord progression Nick Valensi plays that turns the song into a blazing juggernaut, to Albert Hammond, Jr.s quick and slippery solo, to now that which topples on top of the solo as it finishes Nikolai Fraitures bass overlaying, reminding you that the fucking hook of the song is indeed in the rhythm section, something that never pops up enough in rock and roll. And then they finish in what could be considered nothing less than a beautiful, rolling crash.
They changed the idea of what a rock band could be, for the first time since Nirvana. Bands didnt need to sludge through power chords and turn their amps from clean to drive; they could keep that switch turned up, and pare down the distortion and amplification until everything could mix properly. The Strokes went into the studio and delivered the only thing they could: Is This It, Side B. Better known as Room On Fire. You could call it the quirky remix side of the album instead of the simple but catchy tunes of the first one, The Strokes pushed for either harder or softer, turning out stuff like 12:51 and Reptilia, brilliant in how different they are. Whereas 12:51 is quite an oddity for a pop song, lacking a chorus and having a guitar follow every single line of word spoken note-for-note, Reptilia is closer to straight-out Ramones punk than most bands have gone since those late 70s even The Ramones themselves. If these were the only two songs that stood out on the album, itd be enough. But theres a light soul touch to Under Control, and the genre that The End Has No End would fit into is quite impossible to find. People claim that the band merely took their style from Television, The Velvet Underground, and others, but Room On Fire proves that if anything, Julian knows that the best pop music steals from everything and then adds a twist of originality to make a new fizzling refreshment thatll get all the kids talking. Room On Fire is nearly haphazard with different influences, from early Cars to Frank Sinatra to the Pixies to Bob Marley. Its nearly impossible to keep up.
As I remember, everyone expected the band to come out from recording their second album with as major a change as Radiohead with Pablo Honey and The Bends. When they didnt, most people were disappointed. But why move ahead that quickly? Most likely, they wouldve fallen on their faces and become as ignored as the bands that tried to snatch the spotlight in their wake namely, The Vines.
Now First Impressions of Earth is upon us; the album is what everyone wanted the second time around, which is a different sound for the band. The fidelity is up, as are the vocals; the guitar-playing has become more expressive, the songs more laid-out, more like modern rock. And yet theyve managed to stuff weirdness in there that David Kahne couldnt get rid of. Pieces here and there that pop up in the songs that make you stop and go wow, I didnt expect that. Take Juicebox, for example. The song is quite covered in distortion and fuzz. Most bands these days would take that as the sound and keep it all the way, thinking the crunch is what the kids want.
But then, BAMF the clarity comes back through, those sunshine-ray guitars peek in through the rumbling thundercloud of Nikolais Peter Gunn bass riff. And then the hole in the clouds closes again.
And not only there it takes more than just brass balls to take the melody of Mandy and co-opt it for your own song; it takes a bit of genius to take an easy-listening anthem and dirty it up. Electricityscape jams out guitars not unlike The Boss would, if The Boss had come late enough to be influenced by Elvis Costello. Ize Of The World brings odd lyrics and the most random note-rising moment in a song, ever less than a third into the second verse. Once again, the influences widen the palette of the band, and they take those new tastes and mix them together into a stew. Theres a point in Fear of Sleep, a straight-forward song if there was one, that I cant help but love the yelping high note that Julian hits as he sings youre no funnnnnnnnnn. And if you can resist dancing to Red Light, youve got to be impaired in the legs.
The bands snappy live, too. The first time I saw them was in 2002, with Aislin. I recall the cigarette smoke rising from five mouths, Alberts hair waving back and forth and up and down as he jumped, Townshend-slid and generally rocked out. I remember the almost parodist way Julian would handle the mike it reminded me of Dana Carveys bit about singer-songwriters and them being angry at the microphone. I remember Fabs jump from the stage, his toss back on, the jump back in, and finally the toss that led to a one-two-step and a tap of his cymbal to end the night perfectly.
And then there was 2003. The band was in a riotously drunk mood that Halloween, and yet they still played precisely as well as they had played when they recorded the album. They had changed had seemed to become more stiff but Julian surely had picked up the rest of the bands energy. When during Take It Or Leave It, Julian grabbed his mic stand and swung it into the amp, we (including Julian himself) expected this would lead to the band tearing apart the instruments and the stage. It wasnt to be; the mic stands circular base remained in the speaker when Julian yanked it out. He took a moment, stared at this problem, and tossed the damn thing away. His next plan went into effect, and suddenly he toppled right into the crowd, losing shirt and likely some hair in the process.
I knew then that this was a band that would stick with me for the rest of my life.
So, in effect, they became my favorite band of all time in just two years. If you wonder why I defend them so, its because, well, they write good albums more often than most other bands write good songs. They have a selection of 40 or so songs, none of which is truly a weak link in the catalog. They dont pretend to be anything they arent and dont aspire to be nothing but great at what they do. I cant help but admire that greatly in a person, much less a band. Theyve got a lifer in me, even if they dont make it all the way through my life. They will always remain my favorite band, for reasons nothing less than these.
I remember the discovery of my favorite band like it was yesterday, even though it was nearly five years ago. It was 1 AM, a week or so before school started. I was flipping around channels on the TV in my basement, trying to find something interesting. And when I turned to MTV, I got MTV2 instead, for just the briefest of minutes. It was a concert, and there was this loutish young brat stumbling across bleachers, screaming aw dont fucking go!, while a catchy tune (which would later come to be known to me as Hard To Explain) scratched itself out of the mono speaker.
The brat was Julian Casablancas. His band was The Strokes. As he came back down to the stage to finish off the song, I sat down on my couch and finished watching the entire concert. I was amazed at the sheer bravado of a guy to waltz around and yell obscenities at his audience, and couldnt help but enjoy the stripped-bare, sunshine-ray sound that the guitars were making. These guys were good; they knew how to play.
A couple of months later, with Last Nite storming the radio, I picked up the album and tore into the packaging. And my world was expanded.
So what is it about The Strokes? What is that mysterious confection in the air that makes me enjoy them? Ive thought about this from time to time, wondering where I went off the path I was on (Disturbed and Papa Roach) and began to push into discovering Bob Dylan, The Replacements, The Velvet Underground, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Springsteen
That path of discovery came from The Strokes. I remember the snappiness of Is This It, how it was on top of the very edge of songwriting. Everything was quick, simple, and was only there if it had to. It felt spacious, yet tied down. There was air that could be electrified in the songs, but they were under the bands complete control. Barely Legal, if anything, is the best example of that I can think of. From the snap-snap-snap of the snare drum at the beginning to the sudden change from tight and quiet to expansive and loud, the way choruses should always sound, I couldnt help but fall in love with it.
Of course, this early, the band showed their pop-music skills. Someday, The Modern Age, Last Nite, Hard To Explain. Melody-driven and fucking catchy. But all of those lack in comparison to the jam-packed Take It Or Leave It. So many times have I listened to that song and fell in love with something different. At first it was Julians angry, violated voice, the way his voice became ragged at the end; it turned to Fab Morettis incredibly tight and precise drumming, to the chord progression Nick Valensi plays that turns the song into a blazing juggernaut, to Albert Hammond, Jr.s quick and slippery solo, to now that which topples on top of the solo as it finishes Nikolai Fraitures bass overlaying, reminding you that the fucking hook of the song is indeed in the rhythm section, something that never pops up enough in rock and roll. And then they finish in what could be considered nothing less than a beautiful, rolling crash.
They changed the idea of what a rock band could be, for the first time since Nirvana. Bands didnt need to sludge through power chords and turn their amps from clean to drive; they could keep that switch turned up, and pare down the distortion and amplification until everything could mix properly. The Strokes went into the studio and delivered the only thing they could: Is This It, Side B. Better known as Room On Fire. You could call it the quirky remix side of the album instead of the simple but catchy tunes of the first one, The Strokes pushed for either harder or softer, turning out stuff like 12:51 and Reptilia, brilliant in how different they are. Whereas 12:51 is quite an oddity for a pop song, lacking a chorus and having a guitar follow every single line of word spoken note-for-note, Reptilia is closer to straight-out Ramones punk than most bands have gone since those late 70s even The Ramones themselves. If these were the only two songs that stood out on the album, itd be enough. But theres a light soul touch to Under Control, and the genre that The End Has No End would fit into is quite impossible to find. People claim that the band merely took their style from Television, The Velvet Underground, and others, but Room On Fire proves that if anything, Julian knows that the best pop music steals from everything and then adds a twist of originality to make a new fizzling refreshment thatll get all the kids talking. Room On Fire is nearly haphazard with different influences, from early Cars to Frank Sinatra to the Pixies to Bob Marley. Its nearly impossible to keep up.
As I remember, everyone expected the band to come out from recording their second album with as major a change as Radiohead with Pablo Honey and The Bends. When they didnt, most people were disappointed. But why move ahead that quickly? Most likely, they wouldve fallen on their faces and become as ignored as the bands that tried to snatch the spotlight in their wake namely, The Vines.
Now First Impressions of Earth is upon us; the album is what everyone wanted the second time around, which is a different sound for the band. The fidelity is up, as are the vocals; the guitar-playing has become more expressive, the songs more laid-out, more like modern rock. And yet theyve managed to stuff weirdness in there that David Kahne couldnt get rid of. Pieces here and there that pop up in the songs that make you stop and go wow, I didnt expect that. Take Juicebox, for example. The song is quite covered in distortion and fuzz. Most bands these days would take that as the sound and keep it all the way, thinking the crunch is what the kids want.
But then, BAMF the clarity comes back through, those sunshine-ray guitars peek in through the rumbling thundercloud of Nikolais Peter Gunn bass riff. And then the hole in the clouds closes again.
And not only there it takes more than just brass balls to take the melody of Mandy and co-opt it for your own song; it takes a bit of genius to take an easy-listening anthem and dirty it up. Electricityscape jams out guitars not unlike The Boss would, if The Boss had come late enough to be influenced by Elvis Costello. Ize Of The World brings odd lyrics and the most random note-rising moment in a song, ever less than a third into the second verse. Once again, the influences widen the palette of the band, and they take those new tastes and mix them together into a stew. Theres a point in Fear of Sleep, a straight-forward song if there was one, that I cant help but love the yelping high note that Julian hits as he sings youre no funnnnnnnnnn. And if you can resist dancing to Red Light, youve got to be impaired in the legs.
The bands snappy live, too. The first time I saw them was in 2002, with Aislin. I recall the cigarette smoke rising from five mouths, Alberts hair waving back and forth and up and down as he jumped, Townshend-slid and generally rocked out. I remember the almost parodist way Julian would handle the mike it reminded me of Dana Carveys bit about singer-songwriters and them being angry at the microphone. I remember Fabs jump from the stage, his toss back on, the jump back in, and finally the toss that led to a one-two-step and a tap of his cymbal to end the night perfectly.
And then there was 2003. The band was in a riotously drunk mood that Halloween, and yet they still played precisely as well as they had played when they recorded the album. They had changed had seemed to become more stiff but Julian surely had picked up the rest of the bands energy. When during Take It Or Leave It, Julian grabbed his mic stand and swung it into the amp, we (including Julian himself) expected this would lead to the band tearing apart the instruments and the stage. It wasnt to be; the mic stands circular base remained in the speaker when Julian yanked it out. He took a moment, stared at this problem, and tossed the damn thing away. His next plan went into effect, and suddenly he toppled right into the crowd, losing shirt and likely some hair in the process.
I knew then that this was a band that would stick with me for the rest of my life.
So, in effect, they became my favorite band of all time in just two years. If you wonder why I defend them so, its because, well, they write good albums more often than most other bands write good songs. They have a selection of 40 or so songs, none of which is truly a weak link in the catalog. They dont pretend to be anything they arent and dont aspire to be nothing but great at what they do. I cant help but admire that greatly in a person, much less a band. Theyve got a lifer in me, even if they dont make it all the way through my life. They will always remain my favorite band, for reasons nothing less than these.