So here it is. Two years down the line from "Is This It" the garage rock revolution has completed its first turn of the wheel. Follow-up albums by fellow travellers The White Stripes, The Coral and The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have revealed further development of the same themes but no great leaps forward, The Libertines have emerged triumphant but battered and scarred after their traumatic summer, The Strokes have had their first top ten hit but the backlash is gathering like storm clouds on the horizon.

The prevailing feeling seems to be that this, The Strokes second album, will be some kind of test. That if "Room On Fire" were to somehow fail to pass muster, the whole scene which The Strokes have unwittingly built would come crashing down around them. Make no mistake, some people want them to fail. They are waiting in the shadows of dingy record shops burning with hatred at every teenage girl who casually peruses the CD jacket, they are hiding behind the "arts and culture" pages of broadsheet newspapers seething with jealousy that they didn't discover them earlier, they are every elitist "I saw them first" dickhead whose biggest fear is that someone else trashes the latest hip band before he has the chance.

As a test, "Room On Fire" is an anticlimax. It doesn't offer the great leap forward that would knock the steam out of the backlash but, more importantly, that doesn't stop it being completely brilliant. While "Is This It" took some of its initial impact from a few Iggy Pop/Television references, "Room On Fire" sounds much more like The Strokes as a band with their own identity. They've neatly and subtly absorbed the currently fashionable 80s fixation, particularly on the single "12:51" and on "The End Has No End" and they've ditched the "Last Night"/"New York City Cops" bouncing motown beat in favour of something more slick, mechanical and modern.

The importance of Fab's drumming is not to be underestimated since it's his ability to hold down a metronomically steady rhythm and then turn it on its head in an instant which holds together that band's entire dynamic. The precision with which the five members are able to build up a seemingly unstoppable head of steam, then turn on a sixpence and dash off in two or three different directions without seeming to miss a beat is incredible. You have to wonder what would happen if they ever completely let all that energy loose, it would either be the biggest disappointment since a syphilis-riddled Napoleon finally said "Ce Soir Josephine!" or it would cause the world to explode. The closest they come is the fierce and propulsive "Reptilia", which along with "12:51", the ska-tinged (wait, come back!) and catchy "Between Love And Hate" and the sexy and soulful "Under Control", is one of the most immediately impressive songs on display.

That, however, is not to say that the rest are in any way lacking. The attention to detail spread evenly across the album is breathtaking and in between opening line "I wanna be forgotten/ I don't wanna be reminded" and closer "I'll be right back" are thirty-three minutes of rock and roll music which blazes with more inspiration than most bands have in their entire careers. The cynics will leave disappointed but then again perhaps The Strokes were always going to be too reliable a proposition. The revolution keeps on revolving and the detractors will now have to turn their slings and arrows towards The Libertines and The Hives in their search for a shit second album. -Ian Martin, Oct.31.03

Room On Fire