The Strokes, ever heard of them? They're a bunch of rich kids from New York who like the street. Too drunk to skateboard, they stride round in their vintage clothes, take loads of drugs, chase chicks and make music. Last year, they released "Is This It," the greatest debut album since Oasis' "Definitely Maybe." They were instantly massive rock stars, with guest lists chockablock with supermodels, Hollywood actors and masturbating journalists.
Last week they played their first shows in Japan. All sold out. On Feb. 15 outside Shibuya AX, ticketless fans pondered their options: 1) Break in through a window, 2) buy some dope off the aliens near the station and use it to bribe a roadie for passes or 3) buy a ticket, at double the 5,500 yen face value, from a gangster outside. Most took the last option.
Once inside, the fans politely applauded the opening act, ace Japanese garage-punkers King Brothers, and were then baffled by The Strokes' choice of filler music, The Ramones and, erm, Michael Jackson. Then the official Coolest Band on the Planet took the stage . . . and this article is now supposed to fade into yet another piece about how great The Strokes are.