The Strokes pump up the pulse rate

There were times Saturday during the Strokes’ show at the Arrowhead Pond in Anaheim when you wished the New York quintet might have channeled some of the go-for-broke abandon of the evening’s opening act, the Eagles of Death Metal. At the same time, EODM’s riff-heavy set would have benefited greatly from a jolt of melody and forward thrust of the Strokes’ best songs.

Then again, the way the music business works, fame and fortune would probably go to a band with none of the Strokes’ or EODM’s best qualities.

As it was, the Strokes exhibited the new shadings of its third album, “First Impressions of Earth,” a work in which Rock’s Great Hope of 2001 has regained its balance following the sophomore slump of “Room on Fire.”

In that work the band seemed paralyzed into echo and repetition by the over-the-top response to its invigorating debut, “Is This It.” For “First Impressions,” lead singer and songwriter Julian Casablancas hangs onto his Velvet Underground/classic rock roots but often expands the boundaries of those sources with splashes of electronica, industrial noise and pumped-up punk muscle. Casablancas also brings a greater range to his vocals than previously, when he rarely veered far from Lou Reed-like ultra-cool detachment.

In the new “Juicebox,” with its industrial-strength surf-rock foundation, Casablancas threw the throttle wide open while struggling for some human connection, bellowing “Why won’t you come over here?” repeatedly with ever-increasing intensity. The vaguely Blue Oyster Cult-like “Electricityscape” had guitars blazing gloriously as Casablancas went in search of an uncertain redemption.

Even so, the Strokes were often stuck with a constricted emotional palette, toggling between a comfortable lope and a dead gallop rather than exploiting the full range of possibilities between the two.

Eagles of Death Metal, the quasi-novelty side project of Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme, was briefly amusing for its less-than-serious spoof on oh-so-serious metal attitude and riff crunching. But it won’t move beyond in-joke status until Homme and his posturing pals come up with killer hooks of their own instead of those that sound like first drafts of much better songs by the kingpins of machismo rock.