‘Reality Awaits’ was already highly anticipated, having been over four years in the making, with its release also pushed back by a month. Following the Grammy Award-winning ‘The New Abnormal’ (their only Grammy nomination and win!) is no easy feat, but The Strokes reunited with producer Rick Rubin to continue their “magical” creative collaboration. The band’s seventh studio album arrives with an acute awareness of the mythology surrounding its creators. Julian Casablancas isn’t interested in preserving a carefully polished image; instead, he parodies and indulges in it, often dismantling it altogether. The record acts as an embrace of the contradictions we collectively face.
“I’ve been thinking about what I wanna say / But I’m an old man now / At least that’s what they tell me anyway”. The album’s campaign began with lead single ‘Going Shopping’, a surrealist observation on consumer comfort and political numbness transformed into an infectious pop-rock anthem. Built around a sharp rhythmic guitar groove, the chorus mirrors the instant gratification it critiques, and the amplified autotune adds another layer of tension between authenticity and artificiality. The track also features Fabrizio Moretti’s tight hi-hats that shine throughout the record, especially on the hazy, mystery-filled escapades of ‘Dine N’Dash’.
A powerhouse rock intro into the hooky melody of ‘Lonely In The Future’ is the most striking of autotune moments and commentaries, heightened by the exhilarating absurdity of Casablancas’ lyrics confessing “Weeknd, I like your outfit / YOLO, you only live once”. This is the Julian Casablancas we see onstage, rambling with serious intent, softened by a humorous edge. More name-dropping continues from John Legend to Anthony Fantano as Casablancas takes the critic mic: “Stick to the technical, ’cause that’s great / But you would not recognise art in any age”.
‘Falling Out of Love’ is one of the record’s most devastating tracks, a mature portrait of a relationship that has run its course: “Some things are flawed by design”. Like a country ballad in the futuristic age, Casablancas casts himself as a lone ranger searching for meaning, a nod to Richard Prince’s 1989 photograph ‘Untitled (cowboy)’, the album cover art, with the cowboy disappearing into the sunset.
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‘Liar’s Remorse’ carries that same earnestness as Casablancas’ stripped-back vocals repeat: “You don’t have love because you don’t want pain”, with an unresolved ache. Poignantly, in shades of brightly plucked guitars and a slow, soft rock melody, the singer remarks: “Listen to the AI to tell you what to do today” through vocals devoid of any distortion. Featuring a brief jazz-like interlude, the outro is a highlight as Casablancas asks, “How can I do this all on my own?” before abruptly ending with a video game chime, a glitch in the confession.
Ultimately, what seems the most divisive on ‘Reality Awaits’ is autotune as a constant. Where it makes sense is in the context of the uncertain, ever-evolving direction we’re heading in, dominated by endless optimisations in technology and our personal lives. In that sense, it’s a committed stylistic choice. However, some of Casablancas’ most vulnerable musings become disjointed reflections, obscured and blurred by high-pitched, warped vocals. Sometimes they work to enhance the sentiment; other times they get in the way of fully appreciating the song, requiring more time to settle.
Yet there’s harmony in that unevenness, both serving a purpose for the record’s exploration of reality, as Casablancas says himself, “Two things can be true”. Whether commenting on political complacency or detailing heartbreak, a brooding, dark edge punctuates ‘Reality Awaits’; even during up-tempo tracks, there are flourishes of gothic organ, synthy sounds or the melancholic harmonic minor. Maybe it’s the freshness of The Voidz’ influence.
The album still pulls off seamless transitions across the nine songs, digging deeper into more eclectic electronic and percussive sounds paired with self-referential lyricism to examine memory, identity and legacy. As much as there’s a desire to stay anchored in the past to avoid facing destiny, the band do not surrender to nostalgia. They have created a new body of work that questions what it means to be tied to your legacy, as hinted at on the moody, slow-burn opening ‘Psycho Shit’: “Only my beloved songs will define me / Can you be more than what you say?”
As old songs become cultural artefacts and time folds in on itself, The Strokes rotate the lens outwards and inwards. What comes next? The future feels more ominous and isolating than hopeful, and that lack of resolve is the reality we have to prepare for.
7/10
Words: Sahar Ghadirian
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