Review: The New Abnormal by The Strokes
By Carly Tagen-Dye
It’s just been me, the Strokes and the early hours of the morning for some time now. Pre-corona, I was living in New York City. I spent countless nights walking home from shows around Williamsburg and the Lower East Side with songs like “Is This It” and “What Ever Happened?” keeping me company in the dark. This past December, I rang in the New Year with the band at Barclays Center; it was the first night I ever felt truly free. New York became my personal epicenter of epiphanies, where realizations about music and myself fell into place amongst the city after dark. Each time, I felt like I knew exactly where—and who—I was.
I’m less certain now, as springtime wears on; a side effect of the global pandemic at hand. I feel my emotional state mirroring the nostalgic musings that lead singer Julian Casablancas evokes in the hit “Someday.” My thoughts are consumed by time and missing “the good old days” perhaps a bit prematurely. As I long for my city, my semester and my home, midnight is more crucial than ever. It’s creating new memories, including one that I’d been anticipating all throughout self-isolation: staying up all night to wait for The New Abnormal, the Strokes’ first album in seven years.
By Colin Lane
It’s no wonder nostalgists like myself are so drawn to this band. From the second they first careened onto the New York City rock scene, the Strokes were already rooted in the past. Media outlets lived for honing in on their classic ambience, pointing out similarities to vetern Bowery bands like the Ramones and the Velvet Underground with glee. Still, no one seemed able to get over Is This It, the 2001 gritty debut album that first threw the Strokes into the spotlight. Later endeavors, like 2003’s Room On Fire, were rushed and not up to the band’s personal standards. Releases from within the last decade, like 2011’s iffy Angles, crept even farther from their supposed mold, and has also become known as their most disastrous recording process.
The New Abnormal, which arrived April 10 via Cult Records, is a recovery from the rocky past few years. Legendary producer Rick Rubin’s careful hand is clear, stripping the Strokes’ sound to its bare necessities. Opening track “The Adults Are Talking” is clean and crisp (especially if you’ve been depending on the same live versions to hold you over until the official release). A pulsing beat pumps throughout, battling guitars—courtesy of Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond Jr.—taking us to the end. Playful studio banter seeps into “Selfless,” an intense emotional journey. Casablancas begs to be understood, his tight falsetto ringing out amongst the sensitive lyrics; “life is too short, but I will wait for you” might soften the coldest hearts. “Eternal Summer” emphasizes Rubin’s encouragement for artists to genre-bend. Dueling riffs overtake everything, turning the pre-chorus into something silky and trancelike. It’s an intriguing mixture of new wave and modern pop.
Underneath the upbeat sound, however, lies painfully observant perceptions. Billy Idol-inspired (and credited) banger “Bad Decisions” was made to reminisce to. The youthfulness makes the beat a perfect soundtrack for sneaking out on summer nights with your friends (once we’re allowed, of course). Casablancas croons to his lover, “I hang on everything you say/I wanna write down every word.” Despite the supposed adoration, they don’t listen to each other, and his sporadic actions push them apart. “Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus” balances upbeat 80’s keys with unfiltered thoughts about isolation. The speaker pushes through the loneliness of companionship; the struggle of wanting friends and needing to be left alone. This back and forth escalates the uncertainty underlying “At the Door,” the track most touched by Casablancas’ vibey side project the Voidz. I’m reminded of something he said during an interview with James Corden: “We’re in an invisible war, my friends.” It seems like it here, with Casablancas all alone amongst the synths, feeling lost “like a little boy.” As he bangs at the door, you can’t help but want to scream at whoever is on the other side to let him in.
There is some guidance within the mayhem, though it may take a minute to find. The sultry guitar and bass leading into “Why Are Sundays So Depressing” are a relief despite the song’s melancholic title. Casablancas almost sounds chipper amongst the more buoyant tune, telling us to quit asking questions “that [we] don’t want the answers to.” It’s a suggestion that facing reality might be the only thing to help us muster through it. “Not the Same Anymore,” with its descending riffs, makes you feel like you’re falling. We mourn the people we thought we once knew, yet the sonic somberness provides hope for starting over. “Ode to the Mets” piles everything on at once. It’s an ambience-heavy epic, flutes floating in and out, echoing vocals hard to decipher. Casablancas screams with a vengeance, as if begging someone to listen to him, his voice becoming more desperate as the track reaches its climax. The album finishes on one final note; a cacophonic beat that sizzles out slowly. There is some sense of an ending; a loose grasp of certainty amongst the uncertain.
The New Abnormal feels like the Strokes’ most solid album since the fateful debut that sparked a rock n’ roll revolution. It’s also something entirely different; a stoic standalone in its own right. Between the concise lyricism and new-fashioned sound—the reestablished collaborative efforts and camaraderie—listening to this album is both overwhelming and therapeutic. In a recent Guardian interview, Hammond Jr. admitted, “What we could do next excites me more than I have been excited in, I don’t know, our whole career.” Though the Strokes are all grown up now, this record reveals that even two decades in, something is just starting for them too.
As someone on the cusp of adulthood—a new abnormal in its own right—I can’t help but feel comforted by that thought of beginnings amongst endings. These last few months of teenagehood are not how I expected to spend them, so I’m holding the Strokes’ guidance extra close. I still think frequently about the past and what could’ve been, but with the band’s songs ringing loudly from my record player, the future seems a bit more promising. I’m reminded of everything this chaotic time has to offer, and that we can only move forward from here.
I’m reminded, as the lyrics in “Eternal Summer” point out, that life is such a funny journey, and we will make it through.