"They found our city under the water … gotta get my hands on something new."

Those are the opening lines to Comedown Machine, the fifth album in The Strokes already extensive discography that was released four years ago to the day. The eleven-track LP is their last full-fledged release to date, if you don't count last year's EP Future Present Past. With an impressive array of styles and approaches, the Strokes managed to get their hands on something new – a rebirth for a band who's only ever praised for their debut.

So what exactly do we talk about when it comes to The Strokes, anyway? If you're an avid Pitchfork reader, you've probably come to assume that anything past 2001's Is This It carries no weight. There is always some sort of conversation circulating around the band themselves more than anything else - whether or not their dedication to not caring makes them cool or uncool, how many leather jackets vocalist Julian Casablancas must own, and so on and so forth. This "thing" about The Strokes has followed them around since day one, often being louder than the talk surrounding their music.

So it came as no surprise that this time around, the conversation was put to a stop. The band went on their very own media blackout, barring the press from any information surrounding their newest release. There was no promotion whatsoever - interviews, photos, appearances, shows – and no sign of what was to come. Aside from a single premiering on Zane Lowe, the album was to receive no commercial attention at all. Within the sales charts, it showed – the album became the band's first not to debut within the top three UK Albums Chart and sold only 41,000 copies in it's first week overall.

It becomes difficult, then, to determine the essence of an album when the band who made it won't say a word about it themselves. One could argue that at the end of the day, that sort of inference on our part is what makes music what it is anyway – what good is it if we sit there and only hear what the artist hears? By taking control over what was being said (nothing), The Strokes created their own narrative. One would want the conversation to revolve around their own artistic merit instead of the "thing" we have come to know them for - the chucks, the celebrity girlfriends, and most especially whether or not anyone gets along.

So, with Comedown Machine, the band successfully fulfilled their long-term contract with RCA (the record deal that for some unfathomable reason still makes people piss themselves in anger and jealousy - remember the headlines upon headlines of how Casablancas' father bought their way in?). With that, the path to freedom had been paved, a sort of reincarnation for a band breaking free from the mold Is This It cut out for them. It symbolized both an end and a beginning – it's no coincidence the album artwork reflects the same Colin Lane photographs featured in Is This It, as well as the cover's resemblance to an old RCA tape reel box.

artwork by Brett Kilroe

At 39:55 minutes, Comedown Machine works harder to prove itself in it's lifetime than it's given credit for. The aforementioned opener "Tap Out" is, perhaps, one of the best written Strokes songs to date, with guitar and vocal textures reminiscent of the sound only they know how to do. "All the Time", in comparison, seems like a sluggish and tired step backwards in the same direction – it's nothing new that we haven't heard before, and one of the album's least impressive tracks. Not that it matters, because "80's Comedown Machine" (which, in an interesting note, is the title and only track written by all five members) and "Slow Animals" more than make up for it with intricate synths and despairing lyrics of lost youth.

Throughout all eleven tracks, Casablancas' impressive vocal ability is on full display, with "One Way Trigger" being our first introduction to his falsetto. Many loved it, many hated it, but it doesn't change the fact that even as a baritone he's able to hit these notes with little to no vocal training. The songs manage to blend together near perfectly, a cohesiveness that I considered long gone after 2011's Angles (which felt much more like a mixtape or collection of demos than an actual album). The writing credits are much more varied this time around, with rhythm guitarist Albert Hammond Jr. being seemingly responsible for most of the album's wistfulness and romance.

In what I consider to be the highlight of the album, "Call It Fate, Call It Karma" is the Strokes song you never thought you needed. I won't ever forget the first time I heard it – it was on a flight, the very same place I'm writing this now – and it was so blazingly honest and hopeful and unexpected that I cried for quite a bit afterwards, something I'm not embarrassed to admit here because you probably did too. Penned by Casablancas, Hammond Jr. and lead guitarist Nick Valensi, it is a bossa nova-infused dream with words that hint at following one's love into the afterlife.

Compared to Angles, which had the band recording separately and Casablancas emailing vocals back and forth, the process behind Comedown Machine was a much smoother one – and it shows. To consider the album as a cashed-in check or yet another Casablancas solo project is lazy. For the first time, we were able to hear the full extent of each member's writing potential, and just how important each one is for the survival of The Strokes. It's rare that a band's parts feel greater than it's sum, a testament of their effortless merging of talent, and maybe it explains that "thing" about The Strokes that still has people talking about them fifteen years on.

Perhaps Comedown Machine wasn't the Strokes album you wanted or expected, but it was needed in order for them to grow past what's been expected of them. It was needed because it captures the gripping realities of growing older and just a little bit wiser. It was needed because we still need The Strokes – there is a void in the world that only they can fill, no matter how long they hide from it.

Comedown Machine is available for streaming and purchase from The Strokes global store.