=019 10A - The Michigan Daily - Friday, October 24, 2003 4 SCOTT SERILLA/Daily Julian Casablancas salutes the Detroit crowd. i 4 Strokes shrug off sophomore slump By Alex Wolsky Daily Arts Writer Music REVI EW ** Somewhere in London, at the tail end of the summer of 1969, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were meticulously slaving over the finishing touches to their latest album, Let it Bleed. Having been recorded months after Brian Jones had died, the Stones blasted out their final straight forward blues-rock album, it is laced with sporadic hints as to T what lie in the band's The Strokes future. Room on Fire Jones had been argu- RCA ing with Jagger and Richards for years to incorporate other influences into the Stones' music, much like the Beatles were doing at the time, disap- pointed that the band reverted back to its roots time and time again. However, Let It Bleed proved to be a sign that Jones' influ- ence had not gone unnoticed: The album showed signs of the band cutting new sonic territory while still keeping close to the sound that had previously defined them. Somewhere in New York, at the tail end of the summer of 2003, Julian Casablancas mirrored Jagger and Richards' persistence to detail and scrupulous attention to mixing as he put the finishing touches on his band's latest release, Room on Fire. A renowned perfectionist, Casablancas worked many sleepless nights'Tine-tuning songs to ensure a product that would live up to his own strict standards. In 2001, the band received mass praise from the British press and drew compari- son's to fellow New Yorkers Television and the Velvet Underground with their debut Is This It. The record proved to be one of the best of the year and stands as one of the most impressive debuts in recent memory. This time around, the Strokes stay true to those roots, adding elements of the late 1970s New York punk movement and new wavers the Cars, most notably on the sin- gle "12:51." At first glance, Room on Fire sounds like nothing new for the Strokes. A blend of duel- ing guitars driven by Nikolai Fraiture's rhyth- mic bass lines and Fabrizio Moretti's pin point percussion guide every track. However, this time around we witness the beginnings of the band sonically diversifying. From the opening seconds of "What Ever Happened," the band harbors a faster, louder sound that hangs on an invisible ledge, preparing to plunge before it's usurped by the distorted "Reptilia." The freshest aspect of the album is the experimentation of guitarist Nick Valensi with bolder, more pronounced tones. After reportedly blowing out multiple amplifiers attempting to get the right sound, he was finally able to pin point the correct timbre he was looking for. Sounding like a video game on speed, it's displayed primarily on three tracks, "Meet Me in the Bathroom," "Automatic Stop" and "12:51" This experi- mentation is the main divergence from Is This It? and displays the band's prowess for incorporating their influences. Underneath it all, Casablancas continues to prove he's a misanthrope. He bellows in a raspy, washed out voice "I want to be for- gotten / and I don't want to be reminded" while reflecting on a failed relationship in "What Ever Happened." As the guitars of Albert Hammond Jr. and Valensi growl, he cries, "You talk way too much / it's only the end," and in "Between Love and Hate" his words bounce as he proclaims, "I never needed anybody/ I never needed nobody / it won't change now." Julian Casablancas encapsulates Room on Fire on the track "Reptilia" stating, "Please don't slow me down/ if I'm going too fast." The Strokes have found something special in their sound and to change it would be a mistake, though showing no progress at all could prove even worse. Room on Fire does nothing more than build upon the very foundations of Is This It, but as many bands before them have proven, sometimes minor alterations are more powerful than radical changes. The music world is at a critical point, much like it was 30 years ago when artists were dealing with the task of changing the sonic landscape of the early 1970s. The Rolling Stones stuck to the sound that made them great, barely hinting at the notion of one day changing, and they created one of the greatest rock albums ever. And like Let it Bleed before it, Room on Fire shows a band coming into their own while making a once perfected sound new again. I Casablancas stands tall In front of a sold out crowd in Detroit. the I -r cigarette butts and blown amplifiers The Motor City's burning when NY's finest take the stage I By Scott Serilla Daily Arts Editor The Strokes were tired the last time they played Detroit. Tired and hung over. The New York City garage quintet was as taut and electric as ever when they opened for the White Stripes at Chene Park in August, 2001. By then, months of incessantly hyping their debut, Is This It, had taken their toll on the battered crew. Frontman Julian Casablancas was laid up with a broken leg and con- fined to tentatively perching on a stool the whole set, dropping his mic in the middle of debuting "Meet Me in the Bathroom." Everybody else in the band pulsed with the weary, third-wind energy of zombies who hadn't slept in days. Still even on The Strokes autopilot, the ThursdayOct.161 band's skin-tight Atthe state minimalism Theatre rocked with the offhand confidence of guys who have been on road for almost a year. Last week at the State Theatre, the Strokes were a different band. Well rested and hungry to play, the shag- gy-haired group looked lean and more than ready to start ripping through their new album, Room on Fire. Opening act, Nashville's Kings of Leon shrugged off the unfair rap they've been getting as the Southern Strokes. While their Dixie-fried rock was needlessly abbreviated, the Kings certainly left you wanting more, capping off with the best song on their Youth and Young Manhood, the surging build of "Trani." The crowd, a healthy mix of D- town hipsters, college kids and 20- something professionals, were eager as well as anxious to get a live pre- view of the new Strokes material before it hits stores. They were treat- ed to all but one of Rooms' tracks, beginning with the brooding "Between Love and Hate." Julian in particular seemed to be in a good mood that night, even finding time to smile when he wasn't pressing his mic deep into his face, slamming his stand into floor and leaping into the crowd during "Hard to Explain" and "Take It or Leave It." Although he had previously shunned the lime- light, Jules seemed more comfortable with being both the leader and focus on stage. Meanwhile, the band seemed determined to showcase how much its chops have grown. The new songs bled sharper, more complex musi- cianship, in contrast to the rudimen- tary sucker punch of the first LP. Guitarists Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond, Jr. still trade off melt- your-ears solos, and refined tonal quality that speaks to road-tested proficience. While bassist Nikolai Fraiture seemed content to stand as motionless as an Entwistle-anchor, drummer Fab Moretti banged away with glee, filling in the end of "Rep- tilia" with a thumping climax. The show almost climaxes too early with the stamping back to back to back trilogy of "Modern Age," new single "12:15" and exiled clas- sic "New York City Cops," which surprised everybody, including the Strokes, by rivaling "Last Nite" in cheers. Perhaps even more surprising was a rare encore. "We never do this," said Casablanca, "But you guys were great." Likewise, fellas. Casablancas leans In. The Modern Age: New York's next wave The Strokes' widespread success has brought the music industry spotlight back on NYC. Daily Arts profiles seven of the city's most promising bands. Interpol A vicious, inspired redux of so many early-'80s punk bands, Interpol sounds lie Jov Division on asteadv diet of Towers Were Hollow and Filled With Candy So We Knocked Them Over." The Rapture The shameless, spastic dance to the Strokes' cross-armed cool, the Rapture rock acid-punk guitars and shout-out vocals over showy beats. Not quite Glo- ria Gavnor, but not auite not Gloria wallet. Turn off the bright lights. Yeah Yeah Yeahs Lead singer Karen 0 brings the head- lines with her fishnet fashions, but it's her band's combination of surf and punk that keeps the critics fawning and the heads nodding. Their live show, a sloppy, frenetic attack of alcohol and charisma, m L