When the Strokes debuted, the group was often treated like a gang, a throwback to the all-for-one glory days of punk. Yet as the band stuck around that bond of brotherhood seemed to weaken, eventually turning into an ongoing hiatus. Inevitably, band memebers peeled off and formed side projects: First came Albert Hammond Jr.'s solo career; next came Little Joy (featuring Fabrizio Moretti); now here's Nickel Eye, led by bassist Nikolai (get it?) Fraiture.
Fraiture recently went on record hinting the Strokes were ready to head back into the studio, which, if you believe him, only further emphasizes Nickel Eye's side-project status, if not diminishes expectations outright for Nickel Eye's debut The Time of the Assassins. The disc hasn't exactly been pressing on Fraiture-- he only dove into the project when the Strokes hiatus stretched on longer than expected. Yet Fraiture has also claimed inspiration for the disc stems from a road trip he took when he was 19. Fraiture is now 30. That's one long incubation.
Well, maybe it was the lack of pressure and the entirely casual nature of Nickel Eye, but Time of the Assassins actually turned out OK. Recorded with some help called up from Fraiture's Rolodex roster, including Regina Spektor, Yeah Yeah Yeahs guitarist Nick Zinner, and members of the London outfit South, Time provides 35 minutes of disaffected, country-inflected post-punk, rock that comes close enough to the Strokes that people might recognize the family resemblance but not so close that anyone would confuse this for a carbon copy.
The most immediate difference between Time of the Assassins and the output of Fraiture's main gig is the generally acoustic approach of the disc, not in the coffee house sense but in its shuffling, laid-back vibe. Even when the rhythms bounce off one another in tight, tricky lockstep, songs such as "You and Everyone Else", "Back From Exile", and the ska-tinged "Brandy of the Damned" are in fact willfully mellow. Fraiture dampens things down even further on tracks like "Where the Cold Wind Blows", "Fountain Avenue", and the whistle-led "This is the End"-- cowboy songs for people walking concrete streets. On "Another Sunny Afternoon", Fraiture even dusts off the harmonica.
Alas, the disc would have been better off had Fraiture stuck to the harp, since as a singer he's a heck of bassist. Each track bathes Fraiture's nasally vocals beneath a ton of echo at odds with the otherwise dry recording, but the self-conscious disguise still isn't enough to hide his modest abilities. As if to emphasize his inadequacies, the album's final track is a cover of Leonard Cohen's "Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye"-- it's lovely, but in comparison even Cohen's famously limited voice makes more of an impression than Fraiture's own distracted mumble. Time of the Assassins could have used a few more trips to the Rolodex to bring in a ringer of a singer or two, since Fraiture doesn't seem up to the task, or necessarily even into it.
