The Strokes like things short and sweet. The combined running time of their first two albums stretched just over the hour mark. So does tonight’s headline set at Primavera Sound. The streams here for the main headliner hardly got value for money from these NYC giants. Arriving fifteen minutes late and leaving the encore a minute ahead of schedule, their hour and a half slot was indecently condensed. But they know no other way. The Strokes like things short and sweet.
Which is exactly what they give the Barcelona crowd tonight. No extended jams or longer songs just a tight, hit laden set of classic material drawn from the fifteen years and five albums of output. Tonight marks their first European performance since the semi-disastrous nights at Reading and Leeds in 2011 that shook the band and led to a live hiatus. Casablancas seems energised by his new Voidz experiment, while Hammond Jnr. has been touring solo, but The Strokes is the day job that earns the pennies. The only problem is, despite the quality of the music, there is a sense of monotony to their delivery, a laissez-faire stage attitude that hardly rivets live. Casablancas, not exactly the most talkative of lead men, barely looks at the amassed masses. The band, barring drummer, Fabrizio Moretti who runs to the crowd at the end of the set, seem locked in their own world without a flicker of enjoyment. If this is the day job, their apathy lets you know that.
There is no real spectacle, either. You would hope their Hyde Park gig later this month may see more of an effort than the simple red, white and blue bulbs that adorn the stage. But The Strokes are, and never have been more than the sum of their parts. They still look great. Well, apart from Casablancas who is an abomination of lurid green sleeves and atrocious red, golden mullet, but the sound more than makes amends. The band can melt a crowd with a run down of hits that included a Reptilia (bu-bu-bu-bu-bu), Last Night and Take It Or Leave It main set finale that stoked a riff sing along to Hammond Jnr. and Nick Valensi’s strings. European airings from Comedown Machine (the album that had no tour) are scarce as the first two albums rightfully feature predominantly. Material from the much underrated third album First Impressions…is greeted strongly as Jukebox and Heart In A Cage prove clear fan favourites. Under Cover Of Darkness, ‘this one is a song called UCOD’ is about as much chat as we get from Julian, followed by the fantastic Hard To Explain and raucous New York City Cops ends the night with a snarl. The band then just exit, stage right. Job done, just.
Elsewhere, the final day of live music at the Parc del Forum site sees sets from a whole host of acts. There is a bit of a disconnect between the happier go lucky afternoon sunlight sets of Mac Demarco and Foxygen before things get darker and the big boys of Interpol and The Strokes hit the stage. Mac Demarco is the stronger of the two, his band’s chat at least mildly entertaining compared to the self indulgent idiocy of Foxygen’s attempt to have fun. The highlight is when Mac’s string breaks during Rock and Roll Night Club and bassist Pierce McGarry is left to entertain. He extols the beauty of Moby. He then gives a more than tongue in cheek rendition of Coldplay’s Yellow to which both the guitarist and drummer are privy, gamely playing along. It is a fantastic moment of surreal comedy that proves the slackers can raise a laugh, even on the bigger stages. They have fun and in the end so do we, so who cares? Seems to be the message of the set. And drink Heineken!
This is not a message shared by the still deathly serious Interpol who follow Mac onto the Heineken Stage. Paul Banks abstains, for a start. Interpol have got goth rocking darkness down to a tee and their set is a package that has all the strengths of a headliner. Alternative rock hits like Evil and Slow Hands, segue into the more devilish and dextrous likes of The New and live rarity Leif Erikson from epoch defining first album, Turn On The Bright Lights. With the release of El Pintor, the band are rejuvenated and really do enjoy themselves despite the incipient doom inherent to their creations. The new material stands its ground against the classics ending with the lead single All The Rage Back Home, complete with Paul Banks directed video as the stage backdrop. It is an elegant, if modest set, that is completely in tune with what they have been touring for over a year now. The only pity is that they do not share a stage with The Strokes. So by the end, the vanguard have slipped over to the main stage, but the loyalists stay strong to hear the delights of Stella…
Just a twenty minute wait and The Strokes arrive. Their original mission statement was to sound like a band from the past sent forward into the future. In the age of revivalism, this sounds a sure way to keep securing the headline slots, as organisers like to play it safe. But let’s hope these boys are not done quite yet and their is a future to this band from the past.
Someone Banging On My Door 