Phrazes for the Young [LP] in Bloomington, MN

Perhaps it's fitting that
Julian Casablancas
' solo album arrived last out of all of the projects
the Strokes
pursued during their post-
First Impressions of Earth
hiatus.
Albert Hammond, Jr.
and
Nikolai Fraiture
stayed close to the band's mold with their extracurricular projects, and while
Fabrizio Moretti
's work with
Little Joy
might technically sound more different than his main band's music, it doesn't feel as bold as
Phrazes for the Young
. As
' singer and main songwriter, it's not surprising that
Casablancas
pushed himself to break away from the kind of music he makes with the band, but it's how he makes the music different that makes the album interesting. Only eight songs long,
begins with tracks that feel like typically catchy
Strokes
songs put in front of a funhouse mirror; they're stretched, twisted, and elongated into experiments that even
's most ambitious moments couldn't contain.
"Out of the Blue"
's strummy guitars and new wave sheen are familiar, but its rush of emotional, confessional lyrics ("At least I'll be in another world while you're pissing on my casket") are anything but.
"11th Dimension"
comes the closest to what
would sound like near the end of the decade they kicked off with
Is This It
, full of brash, shiny charm and sleek electro-pop synths that suggest that
should collaborate with
Daft Punk
ASAP. Soon enough, however,
veers off into territory that should throw listeners expecting a
album in all but name for several loops.
"Ludlow St."
is the first signal that
is up for anything: an unlikely but successful mishmash of shuffling country, a brass band, piston-like beats, and a recurring Asian-tinged motif, it plays like a drunken urban cowboy walking through a Chinatown street parade, recounting the history of New York, his history with the street, and his own history at the same time. Its quicksilver shifts and mix of experimental and traditional sounds make it more akin to a
Fiery Furnaces
song than any of
' previous work, and
just gets stranger and more personal with the hectic, hypnotic
"River of Brakelights"
and the baroque electro ballad
"Glass,"
a moment of intimacy in the whirl of sounds and ideas the rest of the album sets spinning.
also shows off a new sophistication in his songwriting, particularly on the childhood vignette
"Left & Right in the Dark"
and the album closer,
"Tourist,"
where he sings "feel like a teardrop streaming off your chin" over dubby bass and brass. It may not have the sugar rush immediacy of
, and at times it's downright indulgent, but
shows that
has more than enough ideas for several albums on his own and with his band -- and perhaps most importantly, he sounds more enthused about making music on it than he has since
. ~ Heather Phares