Recovery mode: The Strokes new album is the perfect soundtrack for the day after a big night out. ALBUM OF THE WEEK: There's something quite exquisite about a good comedown. It's spiritual, transformative even. You question things perhaps you shouldn't and make breakthroughs like: thinking gets in the way of thought. Deeeeep. If you surround yourself with comfort items (OJ, Mersey Valley sweet chilli cheese and BBQ chicken toasties, that-special-someone and a soothing soundtrack) then the whole thing is actually ... fun. I've long held the belief that you hear music better after a bender: logic being after 20-30 hours of sound your critical receptors are fine-tuned for instant wheat/chaff decisions. And so we arrive at Comedown Machine, the fifth album for The Strokes, a group that pretty much invented the after-after party and a band who will forever be feeling the comedown of a perfect night out: Is This It released in 2001. Interestingly, what starts as a normal Strokes record develops into a nimble comedown LP. There's a clue in the opener Tap Out when a spindly Freddy Kruger nail gets dragged down the guitar (read: your spine) and you get a creeping suspicion things are going to get creepy and suspicious. They do. Welcome To Japan is all cruise control rock'n'stroll that nicks Technotronic feat. Ya Kid K's "Get up get up get with it, I wanna see you party" hook and has the best lyrical turn on the record "What kind of a---hole drives a lotus?." See also: The Drones' Nine Eyes. 50/50 is Strokes-by-numbers, too calculated by half. "Don't judge me" is Casablancas' anti-anti rockstar message that ends up cheapening the album. It will kill live but on record it just kills. It's a mere anomaly though. The Strokes are best when flexing their penchant for two-minute noodles like Happy Ending, the pure guava of Ween on Slow Animals and Chances, the song Ric Ocasek and Karen O would have given the Drive soundtrack. The Strokes levitate once more. Album of the week: The Strokes - Comedown Machine (RCA/Sony) GOLD FIELDS - Black Sun (Astralwerks/EMI) CUT Copy's 2004 record Bright Like Neon Love is often licked, but never beaten when it comes to Australian indie bands doing '80s-pop-that-sounds-like-New-Order-and-Icehouse-speeding-on-the-Autobahn-and-ending-up-on-the-Hume. Gold Fields has a decent crack at it on this much-trumpeted debut record. The good news is the boys have kept their heads down and knocked together 11 tracks of autumnal, gossamer rock'n'roll full of pop hooks that the SXSW crowds absolutely lapped up last week. From Ballarat's nascent music scene, they give distant gloom on Ice, their best undergraduate game-faces on Treehouse, Late of the Pier aping The Holidays on The Woods and then run out of lyrics on You're Still Gone. They're young guys with lots of life experiences ahead of them and hearts yet to be broken (not just Ashley's arm as referenced on secret track Black Sun). Sounds like: the sum of all their record collections. Next one will be stronger In a word: breathy Rating: 2/5 STEREOPHONICS - Graffiti on the Train (Warner) THERE are echoes of Stereophonics' 16-year-old debut on this, the Welsh group's eighth album. It's there in the earthy tones and Kelly Jones's observational notes ("Wet streets are quiet as a church hall, last house where children kick the football," he sings on the title track). But at the same time Graffiti On the Train shows just how far they've travelled. It's a worldly, sometimes world-weary, collection of rock stories. In a Moment puts a dark twist on the sexy vibe that scored them a radio hit with Dakota. Roll the Dice is an epic with a surprise breakdown worthy of Andrew Lloyd Webber. And from Jones's magnificently gruff voice to the background hollerin', Been Caught Cheating is a winning foray into blues. Sounds like: a wealth of experience In a word: meaty By Neala Johnson JOHNNY MARR- The Messenger (Warner) IF you're searching for an album of rumbling, muscly guitar-led rock that recalls the halcyon days of early '90s British music (not Brit-pop, mind) then your man, Johnny Marr, has impeccable timing. Since his Smiths days, he's been sprinkling Fender Jaguar dust on albums from Modest Mouse and The Cribs while keeping a slew of good ideas up the sleeves of his trenchcoat. Yes, this album often feels like a lead guitarist trying to make a solo record, but Marr lets his axe do the talking on I Want the Heartbeat, Upstarts and the dublicious title track. It's a bit rushed at times though, Generate! Generate! sounds like a Kaiser Chiefs cover and Marr is better than that. Sounds like: The Mancunian Candidate. In a word: cascading BRIGHTER LATER - The Wolves (Independent) BEACH House's Victoria Legrand made some bizarre asides when they played here a month ago, mumbling it may be the last time we see them. What's up, Vic? We needn't worry. An artist named Jaye Kranz has arrived with a fully formed vision of pastoral, swooping dreampop that is sultry yet coy. Kranz sings like a fugged-up Angus Stone without the inertia. The Woods is a fully formed record, not so much "well executed" as humbly offered. All the Great Lakes gets things out of third gear and then we sit on 75 clicks, driving through the hills and dales until we arrive at The Mill in Gippsland. Sounds like: the feeling you get from rekindling a high school friendship without using Facebook. In a word: sophisticated