Six years ago, New York City's indie rock crown jewel the Strokes transformed their sound with The New Abnormal, winning them Best Rock Album at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards, and a permanent place in my heart. The album was the soundtrack to my lonesome last days of high school spent online, where I'd go on evening bike rides and listen to the album on loop. For many, The New Abnormal was a brilliant expansion of the sound they were deeply familiar with; for me, it was the gateway that allowed me to forage deeper into the band's discography, as they eventually became my most listened-to artist for the past six years. This is far from the first time Strokes fans have been surprised by a release from the band. With each release after 2003's Room on Fire, they've been an alienating force — from the heavier hard rock edge on First Impressions of Earth to the '80s synthwave experimentation on Angles. This alienation is a byproduct of the band pushing forth into new territory, which they seem endlessly determined to do, with each record often gaining popularity and winning over critics long after its initial release. It's this very phenomenon that Julian Casablancas flexes about in jangly guitar track "Lonely In the Future," where he disses critic Anthony Fantano (and anyone else who can't fathom the Strokes' brilliant creative foresight) — and the likes of Harry Styles, the Weeknd, John Legend, Josh Groban and Chris Hedges all catch strays. This is Casablancas at his most petulant, and it doesn't compare to the complex political, philosophical or musical ideas of some of the other tracks. Critics and fans alike are violently upset about Casablancas's Auto-Croon approach to many songs, while fans of his other project the Voidz are just happy to have more songs that sound like the Voidz. Over time, Casablancas has been turning up the AutoTune knob in his various projects, and many fans have clearly had enough. Do we need to have an intervention? Autoholics Anonymous? I don't think so. Reality Awaits fuses the versions of the frontman known by fans of his main project and his side project, blurring the lines between the bands and creating a new hybrid that many Strokers cannot get behind — not just in the vocal manipulation, but lyrically as well: this is the most political the Strokes have ever been, and I think the AutoTune has everything to do with it. You don't have to look far to understand the band's politics these days, from the ending of their Coachella 2026 set to Casablancas's recent address at Oxford University. Opener "Psycho Shit," a highlight of the record, introduces us to the band's current vocabulary, setting the cinematic stage for the Western that is about to unfold, as a lone cowboy traverses a desert of chatbots, drone strikes, past loves and shopping malls. Much of the political sensibility that was channeled into the Voidz is now fully on display in the Strokes, with Casablancas criticizing the current state of warfare — "You kill your prey / From your nest / From behind a desk / Psycho shit / You have no honour or no balls" — through a haunting layer of AutoTune. Straying far from the cool, catchy beginnings of Is This It, they've created a dramatic call-to-action that meets the moment. "Falling Out of Love" feels like a cyborg cowboy's reflections on the visceral pain of beautiful relationships withering away over time, and the guilt that comes with those feelings. The vocal effect adds to the overall dystopian context of the album — and even with heavily manipulated vocals, human emotion can still cut through and bring about tremendous feeling. Each small warble in Casablancas's voice is felt, adding microtones as he modulates between notes, maximizing opportunity for microscopic expression. There's no getting around it: this album is kind of ridiculous, and it's a bit messy. But aren't we all? The unseriousness combined with dark, murderous lyrics and the AutoTuned emotionality makes for a fascinating ride from start to finish, with so many earworm hooks and memorable moments that feel like they've spawned from old friends having a good time playing music together. The Strokes have always been known for their effortless cool, and this hasn't dissipated; as angry as some of the songs are, the band seem notably relaxed into them. "Going Shopping" is a great example of how they seem like a bunch of dads who no longer care about how they're perceived just jamming it out — while also making a great commentary on the trappings of modern society. If a dissonant melody over top of an 8-bit video game beat is what it sounds like for the Strokes to have fun in 2026, it's what I want to hear. If The New Abnormal was a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice, Reality Awaits is a tart pint of pulpy grapefruit juice. It's an acquired taste that rewards the diligent listeners who don't immediately dismiss it for its absurdity, and listen extra closely to parse Casablancas's AutoTuned musings. While The New Abnormal perfectly encapsulated the transition into the pandemic era, Reality Awaits attempts to capture the current political climate with an attitude that's equal parts serious, hopeful, wrathful, playful and pitch-corrected. I know that this album will help me deal with the mad world I find myself in today. I think we can let Mr. Casablancas hold onto his AutoTune knob — for now, anyway.