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The good news, for those of us who were on the brink of conceding rock 'n' roll's demise, is the Strokes are for real. Those in attendance at last night's World Cafe show saw it for themselves: In a live situation, the Strokes' compact, stripped-down sound is delivered with such brilliant economy and natural verve that if you find yourself nodding to one song, chances are you'll agree with their entire hour-long set. Strokes deliver real
rock ‘n’ rollShawn "Speedy" Lopes
slopes@starbulletin.comAccording to the Strokes' official Internet message board, there was an ill-fated show in San Diego this past Sunday, in which a soused and hoarse Julian Casablancas, only two songs into the band's set, informed the crowd he simply couldn't continue singing.
Soon after relinquishing the microphone to an audience member who could only muster half the lyrics to "Last Nite," the Strokes shut down the show and left town.
It was a relief then, to see last night's show go off with nary a glitch. Hometown punk combo the Sticklers made another fine showing as the evening's warm-up act, though it only underscored the fact that there are still too few live acts outside local punk rock circles that deserve a shot at the limelight. At some point, there must come a band that can capture an audience's attention at rock shows that doesn't require a mosh pit. We're still waiting.
As for the Strokes, for all the inescapable comparisons to gritty New York pre-and-post-punk troubadours of old, the hooks were just as sharp in person as on compact disc, and the songs infinitely more tuneful than anything Television, Velvet Underground or Richard Hell put out in their time. Not necessarily better; just catchier.
Make no mistake, the Strokes are good. Evidently revitalized by their four-day Hawaiian vacation, Casablancas and his shaggy-maned band mates opened the show by powering into "The Modern Age" with the wails of a crowd of about 800 nearly drowned out by sheer sonic force. Still, there would be no pandering to the audience (a barely audible "Hey, what's going on, Hawaii...how ya doin'?" were among the few words uttered by Casablancas), no two-pronged heavy metal hand salutes, and no inane "You guys ready for the Strokes?" emcee banter, thank God.
Halfway through "New York City Cops" (the one song that doesn't appear on the U.S. version of their debut disc), a sudden blaze of stage beacons lit up the screaming crowd and hands shot skyward, making for an impressive sight for a group that didn't exist in the public consciousness six months ago. A few fans, unable to contain their enthusiasm for the Strokes' smash MTV single "Last Nite," climbed onto the stage and were summarily corralled by security guards. Others, apparently under the impression that they were at a Pearl Jam show, attempted to crowd surf their way through the song. If it wasn't all so damn predictable, It would have been cute, in that 1991 kinda way.
As one might expect from a jaded New York City band who's over it all by now, the Strokes, with blank looks about their faces, continued without missing a beat. That's what's to love about this band: In this age of rampant pop contrivance, the Strokes don't care to make you like them; they simply don't care. Now that's rock 'n' roll.
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