The Chelsea inside The Cosmopolitan was buzzing long before The Strokes even took the stage. That kind of electric anticipation that only a band with both cult-level devotion and mainstream impact can summon filled the air. There was no massive video wall, no pyrotechnics, no stadium gimmicks — just a minimalist stage, drenched in hazy lighting, and five guys who still manage to make detached cool look effortless. When Julian Casablancas finally ambled up to the mic, drink in hand, the cheers turned into a roar. For the next hour and a half, The Strokes delivered a set that proved why they remain one of the most vital, stylish, and frustratingly brilliant bands of the 21st century.
The Art of Cool Disconnection
The band opened with “Bad Decisions,” a punchy cut from The New Abnormal that instantly set the tone. It’s the perfect bridge between eras — the ‘80s new-wave shimmer of their later years meeting the sharp, garage-band precision of their early work. Nick Valensi’s guitar tone was crisp and chiming, Albert Hammond Jr. was locked in, and Casablancas sounded casual but commanding, half-singing, half-sneering the verses while the crowd bounced along.
Without much chatter, they slammed straight into “Reptilia.” The room erupted. That song’s opening riff might be one of the best of the 2000s, and live it still hits like a jolt of caffeine to the chest. Casablancas barked out the “Please don’t slow me down!” line like a threat, pacing the edge of the stage. Behind him, Fabrizio Moretti’s drumming was precise yet unrelenting — the heartbeat of the night.
“The Modern Age” came next, and the whole place felt transported back to the early 2000s Lower East Side — when The Strokes were still the coolest band in the world. The tempo was tight, the guitars slicing through the mix, and Casablancas’ vocal delivery carried that perfect balance of apathy and swagger that made him the face of a generation too jaded to care and too smart to fake it.
Las Vegas Meets the Lower East Side
By the fourth song, “You Only Live Once,” the crowd was in full singalong mode. It’s a song that’s aged beautifully — that jittery optimism wrapped in melancholy that defines so much of their best work. The Strokes have always had a knack for writing songs that sound both world-weary and hopeful, and that tension gives their live show a rare emotional edge.
Then came “Hard to Explain,” a masterclass in controlled chaos. Hammond and Valensi traded guitar licks like dueling machines, while Casablancas leaned into the mic, voice distorted and echoing. Even after two decades, it still sounds fresh, still sounds like the future of rock.
And then, in a curveball move, they slowed it down with “Call It Fate, Call It Karma.” The smoky, dreamlike ballad from Comedown Machine gave the audience a moment to breathe. The stage lights went soft, glowing amber, and Casablancas’ voice took on a haunted tone. It was the night’s first real curveball, and it worked perfectly — a moody comedown before the next rush.
Revival Without Regression
The band returned to their more classic sound with “Under Cover of Darkness,” one of their most soaring anthems. The Chelsea became one giant singalong as the chorus hit, the band smiling for the first time that night. It’s always been their most outright joyful track, and the energy reflected that — even Casablancas cracked a grin.
“Juicebox” followed, and it absolutely detonated. The song’s heavy bassline and chaotic chorus are made for the stage, and Nikolai Fraiture’s low-end rumble made the floor shake. It’s one of the few songs in their catalog that feels unhinged live, and Casablancas let loose, shouting and laughing through the chaos.
Next came “Welcome to Japan,” a sleek, underrated gem from Comedown Machine that Casablancas dedicated to “Rogelio,” a fan near the front holding a sign. The dedication brought a rare bit of warmth and humor to the set, with Casablancas joking mid-song, “Rogelio, this one’s for you, buddy — wherever you are.”
“Is This It” dropped next, the minimalist title track from their landmark debut. Stripped down, it still has that effortless swing and bittersweet charm. Hearing that song live in 2025, surrounded by fans who clearly knew every syllable, was a reminder of just how timeless that first record remains.
Then came “One Way Trigger,” one of the oddest entries in The Strokes’ catalog — falsetto vocals, jittery synths, and all. Live, it works better than you might expect. Casablancas leaned into the weirdness, and the crowd followed him there.
The Middle Stretch: A Perfect Balance
“Under Control” brought things back to their soulful side, a rare moment where the band feels genuinely vulnerable. Casablancas crooned it beautifully, his voice rough around the edges but deeply human. Then came “Automatic Stop,” with its reggae-tinged rhythm and shimmering guitar lines. It was one of those deep cuts that real fans live for — subtle, melodic, and deceptively complex.
The transition into “Someday” was seamless, and the room came alive again. That song, more than any other, captures the essence of The Strokes — wistful, catchy, effortlessly cool. As Casablancas sang “In many ways, they’ll miss the good old days,” the audience belted it back like a collective confession.
They closed the main set with “The Adults Are Talking,” arguably the best song from their modern era. The groove was hypnotic, the guitars perfectly interlocked, and Casablancas’ delivery was magnetic. The band seemed to loosen up completely here, stretching the outro into an extended jam that pulsed with life. It was clear they knew this was one of their best songs — and they treated it like a victory lap.
The crowd demanded more, stomping the floor, chanting “Strokes! Strokes! Strokes!” until the band returned.
Encore: A Bittersweet Blast from the Past
For the encore, the lights dimmed and Casablancas stepped to the mic with a casual “Alright, let’s do this.” They opened with “Selfless,” another recent highlight, all shimmering guitars and vulnerability. The tenderness of the song contrasted beautifully with the swagger of the main set — a reminder that The Strokes have evolved far beyond their garage-rock roots without ever losing their soul.
Then came “Last Nite.” The crowd went ballistic. Every person in The Chelsea was singing, dancing, and shouting along. The band played it loose, even laughing mid-song when Casablancas handed the mic to a fan in the front row for the chorus. It was pure joy — the kind of moment that makes live music feel transcendent.
Finally, they wrapped it all up with “Take It or Leave It.” It was a perfect closer — frenetic, raw, and unapologetically punk. Casablancas screamed into the mic, his voice cracking, the band crashing through the final chords as if they were back in a dingy New York club circa 2001. When the last note hit, he gave a mock salute, muttered “Thanks, Vegas,” and disappeared offstage.
A Band That Still Defines Cool
The Strokes have always walked that razor’s edge between apathy and brilliance, detachment and devotion. Watching them live in 2025, it’s clear they’ve aged into that tension gracefully. They’re tighter as musicians than ever — but still nonchalant enough to feel dangerous.
Casablancas remains a fascinating frontman — part lounge singer, part punk philosopher. He rarely talks between songs, and when he does, it’s a mix of humor and aloofness, but there’s charisma in every movement. Valensi and Hammond Jr. are still one of the best guitar duos in modern rock, their interplay as sharp as it was on Is This It. Moretti and Fraiture hold down the rhythm section with robotic precision, yet it never feels sterile.
What’s striking about The Strokes live is how human they sound despite their reputation for cool detachment. Songs like “Under Control” and “Selfless” show vulnerability; “Juicebox” and “Reptilia” remind you they can still rip the roof off a room. There’s no pandering to nostalgia here — just a band comfortable in their own evolution.
The Vegas Vibe
The Chelsea was the perfect venue for The Strokes — intimate but packed, with great acoustics and just the right touch of Vegas glamour. The crowd was a cross-section of generations: fans who saw them in their early 2000s prime shoulder-to-shoulder with younger kids who discovered them through TikTok or The New Abnormal. Everyone knew the words. Everyone danced. For a band that’s often accused of being emotionally distant, The Strokes created a real connection.
The lighting and visuals were minimal — strobes, soft reds, and occasional flashes of blue — but that simplicity fit perfectly. The focus was always the music. And in a city known for excess, that restraint felt refreshing.
Final Thoughts
The Strokes’ show at The Chelsea wasn’t just a nostalgia act. It was a statement — proof that two decades after Is This It, they’re still one of the most important and interesting rock bands around. They’ve evolved without losing their essence, grown older without growing dull, and turned cynicism into art.
When the final chord of “Take It or Leave It” faded, it was hard not to think about how rare it is for a band to stay this cool, this vital, for this long. They might not tour as relentlessly as they used to, and they might never chase pop trends, but when The Strokes take the stage, everything else fades away. It’s still their world — we’re just lucky to be in it.
Setlist:
Bad Decisions
Reptilia
The Modern Age
You Only Live Once
Hard to Explain
Call It Fate, Call It Karma
Under Cover of Darkness
Juicebox
Welcome to Japan (Dedicated to Rogelio)
Is This It
One Way Trigger
Under Control
Automatic Stop
Someday
The Adults Are Talking
Encore:
Selfless
Last Nite
Take It or Leave It
Grade: B