The Strokes

Julian Casablancas doesn't have much to say, and he's upfront about it on his band's third album. "I've got nothing to say," he sings on the droning "Ask Me Anything." Come again? He continues: "I've got nothing to say / I've got nothing to say / I've got to nothing to say."

Whatever his intent, there is little on First Impressions of Earth that contradicts a straight reading of this manta. And yet there are circles of contradiction that lead a critical listener down a rabbit hole with The Strokes. Is it missing the point to criticize the lyrical failings of The Strokes? Few fans, after all, seem to care that James Blunt writes embarrassingly juvenile lyrics; in pop music, pretty presentation is going to beat literature every time. Maybe that should be the same standard to which The Strokes are held. They are, after all, a good pop-rock band -- seldom great, but just as seldom bad.

On the other hand, Casablancas spends half of his songwriting time on First Impressions all but begging to be treated as something more than a one-trick retro pony. The famously sedated-sounding singer flashes a sense of humor with song titles like "Fear of Sleep" and "15 Minutes." The former begins riding on a typically sharp Strokes riff, but builds into a rafters-rattling climatic chorus that is reminiscent of U2, with Casablancas indeed sounding wide awake in America as he wails "You're no fun, you're no fun!" It's a moment of real emotional connection, even in the reliably vague context of the rest of the lyrics, and it's also one of the many signs that The Strokes are still trying to expand their sound.

Another rabbit hole is the chicken-or-egg relationship between The Strokes and Franz Ferdinand. At times, as on "On the Other Side," it seems that Casablancas is cribbing directly from the playbook of Franz's rhythm section. And yet Franz Ferdinand rode into the limelight on a Strokes-drawn carriage, so perhaps some artistic liberties are perfectly acceptable.

The band's strongest suit remains their guitar interplay, and instantly infectious riffs litter First Impressions. But their forays into lower-tempo songs ("Evening Sun") are hindered by heavy-handedness and lethargy. Casablancas is becoming more versatile, even if he doesn't have the power or range for raw nerve displays like "Vision of Division." He shines brightest on the standout "Heart In A Cage," but is generally still best when playing cool and detached. He and his bandmates should be commended for not lapsing into complacency -- and subsequent surefire irrelevancy -- but they still haven't found the right "next move." -- Adam McKibbin, The Red Alert

Why would a comeback from one of the most-talked about rock acts of the 2000s arrive just after the holidays, when the music industry is usually still hibernating (or hung over)? Optimistically, they could be taking advantage of holiday money and gift certificates burning holes in the pockets of their fan base. Less charitably, they may be trying to avoid tougher competition later in the year -- or worse, just trying to bury the album altogether. With the Strokes and First Impressions of Earth, it's difficult to tell exactly what the motivation was, but by releasing it so early in 2006, it ends up not being just one of the year's first albums, but one of its first disappointments as well. To be fair, First Impressions starts out strong. "You Only Live Once" is everything a fan could want from a Strokes song, with a joyful melody, skipping rhythm, and cheerfully snotty lyrics. "Juicebox," meanwhile, moves from a bassline nicked from the "Peter Gunn Theme" to ragged grunge before landing on a soaring, plaintive chorus. Love it or hate it, the song has a boldness and creativity that is in short supply elsewhere on First Impressions of Earth. On the other hand, the similarly experimental "15 Minutes," a shambling mess of a ballad that eventually ignites into a rocker, is so odd that it ends up being more surprising than disappointing. That honor goes to the songs that sound like the band is just tracing over its own work -- and not especially well. Waiting for memorable hooks and lyrics to emerge from "Heart in a Cage," "Electricityscape," and other half-formed songs is a lot more depressing than the occasional failed experiment. Indeed, depression is a big theme on First Impressions of Earth; while jaded and bruised lyrical territory is nothing new for the Strokes, now they sound boring instead of just bored with everything around them. On "Ask Me Anything," an otherwise pretty ballad, Casablancas repeats "I've got nothing to say" so often that the listener has no choice but to believe him. There are a few bright moments: "Ize of the World" and "Razorblade" channel the bite of the band's older work without rehashing it entirely. At just under an hour long, First Impressions of Earth is nearly the length of the Strokes' first two albums combined. They used to be impeccable editors, both in the length of their songs and which ones ended up on their albums. Is This It was a debut album so solid that it felt like a greatest-hits comp; hints of reggae, soul, and '80s pop flavored Room on Fire without overwhelming it. Here, the Strokes indulge their every whim, and the result is their weakest album yet. It seems that less really was more with them, and now more is simply too much. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide