Regardless of where you personally place them in indie rock’s post-millennium lexicon, it’s quite sad to see a band like The Strokes, who once offered so much, find themselves on a pretty steep decline. Even die-hard fans would probably agree that with the exception of a few singles, their last two albums have been somewhat lackluster. Their last outing (2011′s Angles) in particular left a lot to be desired as the sound of a band becoming increasingly frustrated and dysfunctional took precedent over the album’s content.
If Angles was the result of a band trying desperately to relocate themselves only to start falling apart at the seams, then Comedown Machine (the group’s fourth full length album) is the sound of said band trying to forget who they were, in hopes of finding an inner harmony.
My outlook on the album is divided into two camps, the first being a criticism of Comedown Machine echoing some of the issues from their last album. A number of The Strokes’ now signature maneuvers are again present, only this time, instead of using them to somewhat begrudgingly recapture the gold of 2001, they’re eked out with boredom. A lot of the licks, riffs and rhythms on tracks such as “Tap Out,” “All The Time” and “Happy Ending” seem to move out of necessity rather than excitement. A lot of the time it sounds as if The Strokes are simply going through the motions and chaining similar aspects together in a very straightforward, mediocre manner. Granted, some of the tracks might holster more of an ’80s FM radio sheen, but a big part of this album sounds like it’s been delivered by a band that just doesn’t really care that much anymore. Even Julian Casablancas, who isn’t exactly renowned for his vocal enthusiasm, sounds utterly fed up in places. And if The Strokes don’t really care, then why should we?
However, and you can take that as pretty big “however,” some aspects of Comedown Machine are new territory for The Strokes. For example, although I still have issues with its lead single, “One Way Trigger,” complete with hyperactive synth riffs and a falsetto vocal performance that could rival the Brothers Gibb, it’s unlike anything The Strokes have ever done before. Same goes for the dreamy, jazz-infused closer “Call It Fate, Call It Karma.” The slightly disorientating psych rock flow of “50 50″ and the spiky punk aesthetic of “80′s Comedown Machine” also add a few more shots of adrenaline to the album’s bloodstream. It’s in these moments where The Strokes peel back any reminder of Is This It? and find themselves creatively reborn, a place they have been in desperate need of finding for some time. Granted, not everything produced from their sonic experimentation works, and some ideas will perhaps prove to be a tad too challenging for some. But at least they’re trying, and in doing so they are showing a willingness to grow, evolve and finally push things forward.
This might just be the initial seeds of their metamorphosis, but it’s here that they sound more alive, more interesting and more energized than they have in years. Between the tracks that work and the ones that don’t, this split personality not only makes Comedown Machine the group’s most bi-polar product to date, but it also shows (albeit it in spurts) that there is definitely life left in The Strokes.