The Strokes: "Room On Fire" (Review)

There is no substitute for melody in rock n roll. This simple declarative is the best starting point towards explaining the quiet dazzle of the Strokes’ sophomore effort, Room On Fire, an album that begs to be played so loudly there ought to be nothing quiet about it. If by chance you haven’t yet heard of the Strokes, or haven’t yet formed an opinion (even less likely), let me be the first to welcome you to Planet Earth. For the rest of you, you should know that Room On Fire is not just a better album than Is This It, the band’s 2001 debut, it’s in fact a much better album, as the Strokes have transitioned from upstarts to artists so seamlessly it’s almost difficult to catch. It all starts with singer and de facto songwriter Julian Casablancas, who, amidst the pounding guitars and rhythms of his bandmates, unassumingly but forcefully stakes his place among his generation’s greatest melodists. He does this in his chorus to “Automatic Stop,” which snakes from major to minor and back with all the effortlessness of Smokey Robinson; in the sullenly hypnotic cadence of the verse in “The Way It Is;” in the simple way that the notes and phrases never seem to go where you’d expect but always sound better than you could have hoped.

From their beginnings, the Strokes have been persistently labeled by some as cheap hipster knock-offs, and while it’s heartening to think that this is due to Casablancas’ considerable gift for writing songs so catchy they sound as though we should have heard them somewhere before, it’s more likely due to petty jealousy over the band’s precocious ascent to stardom in light of their socioeconomic background. Either way it’s bunk, now more than ever. As Room On Fire demonstrates, the Strokes as a band are both far more than the sum of their influences and as formidable as any of them. Nikolai Fraiture’s nervous counterpoint bass lines evoke Bruce Thomas’ work with the Attractions of the early-80s, and Albert Hammond, Jr. and Nick Valensi weave loud guitars with an urgency belying a two-year hiatus between albums. Room On Fire’s masterpiece is the stunning “Under Control,” a gritty R&B infusion that’s as beautiful a piece of rock n roll as you’ll hear anywhere. When Casablancas soulfully urges the closing lines of the song, “You are young, darling/ Now, but not for long,” out of the reach but into the grasp of his voice, you can’t help but get the feeling that for the past 3 minutes a small part of the world has just stood still. And while the Strokes may not be the world’s greatest rock n roll band at this moment, they will be someday, and that day may come sooner than we even expect.

Originally published in Block, November 2003