Room on fire
Does the world need another Strokes album? Well yes, but probably not this one. For reasons unknown, the Strokes have become the Dandy Warhols, without the lyrics (tip for anyone else considering a lyric sheet - if your words are *this* pisspoor, retain the mystery).
The sound's the same but the thrill and punch of Can't explain or Last nite, which haven't died despite their having been flogged to death on the radio, have disappeared. They sound like nothing so much as another band doing the Strokes.
To me this is proof, if any were needed, of the second album thesis I read, I think, in the Observer. The first album is the one you dreamed of as a kid, the one you wrote the lyrics for in your biology classes, the one whose riffs you worked on in your bedroom. The second is the one you wrote when touring the first. Your connection to reality has gone, your material is limited because your world has shrunk to bus, dressing room, hotel, and because where once you were just whoever, now you're adulated.
Of course, it doesn't always work. There are great second albums. Morning glory springs to mind. Power, corruption and lies. Closer. Sometimes a band matures and begins to really find its feet.
But that hasn't happened with the Strokes.
posted by Dr Zen @ 7:04 pm
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