Sonically, Julian Casablancas’ debut solo effort, Phrazes For The Young, offers a more glossy approach than the Strokes’ poppy garage-revival compositions. But much of the album lacks the energy and vivaciousness heard in the Strokes’ first two albums and Casablanca’s sleepy crooning slows the album to a snail’s pace.

Say what you want about the Strokes, it was Casablancas’ vocals that made them such a success. The music wasn’t anything to write home about. It was garage rock and early punk riffage on top of a basic drum beat for which Meg White might not have even taken credit.

Instead, it was the voice over said music that really put the Strokes over the top. On these fun, quick hitting takes was a powerful voice that combined soulful melodies with bitter reflections, which shined through that scratchy overdrive.

Yet on Phrazes For The Young, Casablancas doesn’t resemble that same individual who told us to ‘take it or leave it’ or that it was ‘hard to explain’ or even to ‘slow him down if he’s going too fast.’ Casablancas instead relies on lengthy passages rather than direct and more poignant statements. It’s difficult to picture Casablancas singing, “Oh I got music/ Coming outta my hands and feet and kisses/ That is how it once was done/ All the dreamers on the run,” from Phrazes lead-single “11th Dimension” over anything but its basketball arena, synth-heavy disco rock.

The songs aren’t particularly enthralling as merely simple melodic movements smashed against each other and then put on repeat for five or six times. No song on the album is under four minutes, but it sure doesn’t feel that way. These songs want to be sprawling epics, but there’s no real dynamics, and they seem to drag on forever. By the time the guitar solo hits halfway through the waltzy blues of “4 Chords of the Apocalypse,” the song is begging to be faded out, however, it soldiers on through the muck to no real resolution.

That’s not to say Casablancas’ has lost his sensibilities. The man can still write a mean hook. As silly of a song “11th Dimension” is lyrically, its straight ‘80s pop vocal delivery is unabashedly bouncy, and “Tourist” finds Casablancas at his most sincere offering up a soaring vocal over a dripping synth line.

Instrumentally, the tracks are busy with dense orchestrations and give off a DIY, garageband-produced feel – similarly to the lofi sounds of the Strokes. It may sound complex, but most of the simplistic, crissing-crossing riffage is enhanced by an overly sleek production. Even Casablancas’ vocals are processed on 99.99% of the album.

“Ludlow St.” is an alt-county burner with the fat that recalls Odelay-era Beck minus all the fancy trimmings. The tense, almost obtuse, guitar riff that powers “River Of Brakelights” is intriguing but falls flat when it shifts into a bleak chorus that seems unnecessarily shouty. “Out of the Blue” is the most Strokes-esque track of the lot offering fast, jangle-y guitar strums, but Casablancas is extremely wordy and never gives the music a moment to breathe.

For those looking for the next Strokes record, unfortunately, Phrazes For The Young isn’t the answer. The album is party ready, however, and seems like it could make for some cool background music at your next Grey’s Anatomy and taco night shindig. But in the end, it’s just a much more satisfying move to throw Is This It On the turntable.