Though
the Strokes
have cultivated a cooler-than-cool reputation over the years, at least once on every album they reveal the melancholy underneath the facade. On
Room on Fire
, that moment was "The End Has No End"; on
First Impressions of Earth
, it was "Ize of the World." For the first time in their career, on
The New Abnormal
they stay in that emotional space for more than just a song or two, and the results are some of their most rewarding music. Fair warning: the band's sixth album is short on the rockers for which they're famous. On "Bad Decisions," a quintessential example of
' knowing hedonism that melts some
Modern English
into its tumbling beats and guitars,
Julian Casablancas
' jubilance comes from shedding a relationship that was going nowhere. Bitterness is inescapable even on the hazy synth jam "Eternal Summer," where he mutters, "Everybody's on the take." But on these lengthy, brooding songs about leaving and being left behind,
sound more engaged and united than they have in years. They also sound more mature. "The Adults Are Talking" isn't just wittily named, the way its vocals and guitars swell and soar reflects how the band has updated their time-tested sound -- taut rhythms, intertwining melodies -- and rewritten the rules that don't work anymore. These songs couldn't be concise pop gems; musically and emotionally, they're too complicated. "Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus" boasts one of the album's catchiest choruses in "I want new friends/But they don't want me," but that hook is surrounded by stream-of-consciousness regrets and confessions that feel honest in their messy candidness. Here and throughout
,
have grown into the desolation that lurked around the edges of their debut on "Is This It" and "Alone Together," and give
's ambition the purpose that comes with another decade of experience. It's sublimely sad when "At the Door" opens into muted fanfares and planet-sized synth washes that still don't feel big enough to contain the mood, while "Why Are Sundays So Depressing" lives up to its name with an epic battle between toughness and vulnerability. Just how raw the band's emotions are on
is surprising and riveting. "Ode to the Mets" is all the more poignant because it sounds like
Casablancas
is telling off someone who's already long gone. When he interrupts the torchy groove and long-simmering recriminations of "Not the Same Anymore" to wail "I was afraid/I fucked up/I couldn't change/It's too late," it's potent proof that
can still surprise. Full of passion, commitment, and creativity,
marks the first time in a while that
have made truly exciting music. ~ Heather Phares