Written by Ariana Assaf
New York City’s Governor’s Ball announced it’s lineup in January, and with festival season upon us we’ve decided it’s high time to share our thoughts. Which really means I’ve decided to continue my fangirling over The Strokes for as long as I possibly can.
Let me explain: I know The Strokes are way too cool to have fangirls. I mean, everything about them screams underground New York City rock and roll. Have you heard Julian’s voice? It’s so justifiably, sexily whiny I can easily imagine him shutting down every advance I could ever dream of making and just being happy that for one teeny moment, he acknowledged my existence.
OK so that’s dramatic and excessive, but whatever. I love him. The problem is that I love him, Nick, Albert, Fab, and Nikolai for what they were to me in high school and in spite of what they’ve become: passé. Lots of people have an all-time favorite, and for me it’s The Strokes. They changed the way I learned to drive, windows down and hair flying instead of hands steadily at 10 and 2. They permanently changed the passcode on my phone to from 8487 (tits) to 1251. They changed the way I fell asleep at night, with Is This It blasting through my headphones so loud my mom would enter the darkness wondering what I was doing. They probably changed the way I thought about myself; they certainly influenced the way I thought about the people around me.
I refused to believe it until Comedown Machine was released – and what a comedown it was – but what I experienced in my love for The Strokes was the tail end of a musical phenomenon that, for probably a whole slew of reasons, just couldn’t last. About a year after Comedown Machine was released I saw them at FYF in Los Angeles. Their name on the lineup was pretty much the only reason I splurged for a ticket, and as much as 17 year old me wants to kick current me in the face for saying this, it wasn’t worth it. They were lackluster, performing for maybe an hour to a crowd who didn’t know them like I did, barely moving around the stage and appearing to only be present in body.
And now here they are on Gov Ball’s lineup. 17 year old me is tantalized, but 22 year old me is nervous. Do I dare get my hopes up again? Do I dare make the trek from wherever I’ll be in June to Randall’s Island? Because of Haim, Chvrches, Duke Dumont, Father John Misty, Misterwives, and Louis The Child, I probably will. And because its a rare opportunity to catch Two Door Cinema Club – who essentially became my emotional audio support system when The Strokes abandoned me and each other for personal projects and personal lives – in the United States, I probably definitely will. And because Gov Ball has gone from a boutique one-day music festival to a major three-day player in only six years, and I have to understand exactly how and tell all you lovely readers about it, I definitely will.
Get your tickets here…
