Interpol
“You will never catch them in a moment of dishevelment; it seems they live day-to-day lives of impeccable dress, going out at 2:00 a.m. for a bottle of milk in Italian loafers and white collars – stodgy, 19th Century statesmen who've materialized as though straight from the moon gates of a noir Ultima.” – Some asswipe from Pitchfork
“God they rule, but they’re fucking indie tools.” – Chris
“I'd rather people said we looked like fucking tools and that the music was worthwhile.” – Paul Banks
Albums Reviewed:
Interpol is
another one of those bands I always reject before hearing them because I tend
to despise anything “indie” or “critically loved”
before giving it a fair shot (because, well, I’m an asshole) who then make me
look like an idiot by turning out to be really darn good. Coming straight out of the Big Apple (though
half the band is originally from England), they worship not the great New York
punk bands of the late seventies, but instead the downbeat British post-punk
bands of a scant half-decade later. The
most obvious comparison is Joy Division, mainly because their lead singer’s
voice sounds as much like Ian Curtis as Geddy Lee’s
voice sounds like a chickadee being suffocated.
They don’t sound exactly like
Joy Division, ofcourse, and the main discussion of
these differences occurs in the reviews below, and a current band I can actually draw a lot of similarities between is
the Strokes. The two bands basically use
the same skeletal bag of tricks (steady drums and
bass, chimy guitar riffs, slacker vocals, occasional fucking ace songwriting) but use them in
completely different yet very effective ways.
The Strokes don’t build much on these tricks, but tighten them up until
they’re as catchy, snappy, and wonderful as cheese. Interpol, on the other hand, slow down, add a bunch of effects, and go for something
bigger and occasionally epic-sounding.
They don’t rock as hard (though they do still rock good) or snap off anything as
catchy as their
Lineup! And yes, though I found better photos, I decided to use the one that makes them look the most like fucking wimpy indie douchebags (because they ARE. I saw them live a week or so ago, and Paul Banks refused to move the entire show. He just stood there like a boring little shit. Yeah, the sound kicked ass, but move, you fucknuts). From left to right are drummer Sam Fogarino, guitarist Daniel Kessler, bassist Carlos Dengler and his FUCKING HORRENDOUS GENERIC INDIE BULLSHIT SIDECHOP HAIRCUT, and lead singer/guitarist/Ian Curtis wannabe/total wimp Paul Banks. Don’t be fooled by how stupid they look. They’re really good.
And, onto the reviews!
Turn On The Bright Lights (2002)
Rating: 8
Best Song: “NYC”
Joy Division.
OK, now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about Interpol and their goodness, which should be clear to anyone who isn’t a moron who likes shitty music. Are they a great band? No. The Strokes are the only one of these new-fangled garage band critical darlings that I’d classify as “great,” and Interpol are definitely not at their level, but I’d probably place them on tier #2 with the White Stripes and the Hives and Slipknot and Maroon 5 and Good Charlotte and whoever (OK, no, only two of those bands are any good at all). And I know the easiest thing to do with them is just go “they sound exactly like Joy Division! Fuck these ripoff artists! I’m gonna go listen to Closer and hang myself!”, but that wouldn’t be totally right. The main thing that gets people to go and compare them to Joy Division and thus dismiss them out of hand is the fact that Paul Banks sounds exactly like Ian Curtis, only minus the all-too-obvious suicidal depression that has scared off a few of my friends I’ve tried to turn onto Joy Division (because, really, how many sane people want to listen to Ian Curtis sing for more than ten consecutive minutes?). When a band plays chimey, garagey, somewhat downbeat 4/4 music derivative of British post-punk banks, it’s easy to compare them to Joy Division. When the lead singer has obviously spent the last ten years of his life studying every vocal mannerism Ian Curtis ever put to tape, it almost makes it too easy.
The thing
is, though, that, when you really pay attention, Interpol sound
a lot different from Joy
Division. Unknown Pleasures sounds like it was
recorded in the back of an El Pollo Loco and half of Closer is either synth-pop
or weird, hypnotic, vaguely German/industrial music. And the arrangements Joy Division preferred
were miniscule. Their guitarist never really did anything except sit in the corner of the
room and make texture sounds. Interpol,
on the other hand, write BIG songs. Not U2 big, where you just want to run over
to Bono and unceremoniously pull the hairplugs out of
his wrinkly, Irish head (you know, I really need to stop making fun of U2,
seeing as how their new album is really
fucking good and all). Just “big.” The
guitar textures and riffs are definitely the basis for these tunes, instead of just being little flowery topping
over the incessant bass lines and suicidal yelping like on Joy Division records. The sound of this album is LARGE and ECHOEY
and it comes of incredibly well live
if you’re at a place with good acoustics (like, for instance,
Interpol basically divide their songs into two groups: slow, bombastic, pretty lament-ish songs and fast, driving rockers. On the slow things, they’re occasionally excellent at creating lovely soundscapes, such as on the superb opener “Untitled” and the awesome “NYC,” probably my favorite Interpol song, where Paul Banks takes his Ian Curtis croon and actually hits some anthemic high-ish notes (“it’s up to meeeeeeee now, turn on the briiiiiiiiight lights!”). But what’s so great about these songs is the layering, like how in “Untitled” we get two or three guitars making high-pitched chimey feedback lovely noises over each other on top of the slow, stately rhythm section and how “NYC” builds from one, solitary strumming guitar at the start to a similarly bombastic ending featuring a number of overlapped vocal tracks and more chimey echoey effects guitar tastiness. These are probably two of the loveliest tunes I’ve heard in a while.
None of the slow dirges can come close to those two, however (I’m not sure what the moody “Hands Away” is trying to do, the closer “Leif Erikson” is just an average rewrite of the album’s kick-ass opening few tunes, and if there are any other slow dirge things, I’ve obviously forgotten about them), leaving the band’s nicely hard-rocking side to provide the rest of the best material. The best one we have here (sandwiched between “Untitled” and “NYC” at the start to make you think Interpol is the best fucking band in the world for fifteen minutes before you realize they’re just very good) is undoubtedly “Obstacle 1,” which layers its chimey guitars in a very Strokes-y way after throwing a fucking incredible, bouncy bass riff into the verses. Ofcourse, the Strokes would never produce a song with such a full sound (they prefer three or four instruments produced so cleanly and distinctly you can pick each one out within three seconds, as opposed to the flat-out big fucking sound Interpol likes to get), and they’d also never have an Ian Curtis sound-a-like yelping about “stabbing yourself in the neck!” and finishing the song with a note sung purposely off-key, but differences are sometimes the spice of life (or some shit like that).
The hard-rocking “PDA” and the
lovely “The New” are probably the best tunes of what’s left, and to be honest
about halfway through this thing I sometimes have trouble differentiating songs
from each other, but I can safely say there’s not a tune I skip when I listen
to this bad boy (“Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down” is probably the
weakest here, but ‘ain’t no big thing). The layering of guitars and vocals and the
variation in guitar tones here (from high-pitched flowery wailing to clean,
precise chimey riffs to a few mean intros and occasional pseudo-detuned distortion in the songs’
choruses, such as in “Say Hello to the Angels”) is always lovely to listen
to. Except for the fucking awesome bass line in “Obstacle 1,” the rhythm section
doesn’t do all that much that makes me jump out of my seat, but they’re solid
and adequate, and their sometimes plodding style fits this downbeat, moody, echoey garage music to a tee. Banks’ vocals are
actually engulfed by the big-ass sound of the album a lot, leaving him
occasionally inaudible (he does have
an odd voice, so maybe that’s why?), but when this happens it’s generally
because the musical layering is just that cool
(fuckin’ A, for instance, in “NYC” GORGEOUS). Just good songs with wonderful guitar tones,
lovely layering, and Ian Curtis’ long-lost cousin on vocals played by a bunch
of guys from
Antics (2004)
Rating: 8
Best Song: “Evil”
Those who have labeled this a “step down” are just being affected by some sort of pre-conceived notion that follow-ups to universally fellated debut albums HAVE to suck (or at least be worse), because I sense very little difference between the quality of Turn on the Black Lights, I’m Stoned and Ant-Tics, the Mutant Bug of Pure Annoyance. True, the sound of the debut, while not exactly original in the purest sense of the word, was at least somewhat novel, especially nowadays, and the fact that Interpol stick so close to it here could be frustrating to those who want progression from a band. But see, to me, if the band’s songs are still good and the sound is still fresh and exciting, then I don’t really care how similar their albums are to each other. The new U2 album does absolutely NOTHING that U2 as a band haven’t done before, but as of now it’s my second favorite album from those massively overrated Dubliners because the songs are good (except for “Vertigo,” which is a joke). Interpol’s production and songwriting mojo are still in full effect, so I still dig in thoroughly.
The one general musical difference I find here is that the debut sounds fuller. There’s nothing here that matches the bombastic, layered, prettiness of either “Untitled” or “NYC” (if they ever top that song, by the way, I’ll be shocked). The moody keyboard-based opener (something else slightly sorta half-new) “Last Exit” is probably trying to be “Untitled” in its mellowness and slow, subtle buildup underpinning Paul Banks’ monotonally declaiming something in a very bombastic way, and it’s surely one of the best songs here, but it’s just not quite as strong as its analogue. The BOOOOOIIIIIG sound that made sections of the last record so fucking intoxicating to listen to isn’t as powerful a presence, and the moments where you can just lean back and lose yourself in the power of all those pretty squealing guitar effects are few and far between.
So how does this one make up for that? Songwriting! I actually think the songwriting here is a lot more consistently strong than on the debut, and the second half of the record doesn’t leave me forgetting what four or five of the songs sound like, which is always nice. None of the rockers here can match that motherfucking bad-ass bass line from “Obstacle 1,” but the amount of pure, solid, rocking goodness here is definitely larger than the debut, which sort of lulled along like it was in a coma some of the time (again, except for “Obstacle 1,” which will never cease to RULE). “Evil” is my pick for best here. The fact that it tries to have an interesting bass line means it was obviously intended as a rewrite of “Obstacle 1,” but the fact that they fail in this regard does not mean they fail as a whole, because the song is great. The clearness and clever overlapping of the chimey guitar riffs actually reminds me of the Strokes for a time, and the tinkly piano they throw on top is a good time. “Narc” and the propulsive (so much so it’s hard to believe the song comes from fucking Interpol) lead single “Slow Hands” are also excellent times, and the choruses of these, especially “Evil” and “Slow Hands” are notable for how much Paul Banks’ vocals are mixed RIGHT OUT IN FRONT and cut through the fat, layered, rocking background like a knife. His opening line in “Take You on a Cruise” about “making money like Fred Astaire” or whatever is fucking brilliant, too. Theory? Sure! Maybe he was self-conscious about his voice before, either because a) he only has a range of two notes or b) he sounds WAYYYY too much like Ian Curtis not to make any self-respecting Joy Division uncomfortable, and the way the first album and his voice in general were received (i.e. *gives blowjob*) gave him more self-confidence. Or not.
Anyway, like I said before, the second half of this album holds up a little better than the second half of Turn on the Bright Lights, though I still like that one a little better because “Untitled,” “Obstacle 1” and “NYC” are all so fucking awesome. The lengthy “Not Even Jail” starts out side B and provides probably the best attempt at a big-ass layered guitar effects-y soundscape tune you’ll find on this album (I especially love the “noooooooot eeeeeeeven jaaaaiiiiiiiil…..” chorus there; lovely!). “C’mere” rocks pretty hard and contains some delicious layering of what may or not be a keyboard during the verses, “Length of Love” contains what would be the meanest guitar intro on the album if “Slow Hands” weren’t here too, and the guitar line that accompanies the re-entry of “A Time to be So Small” just totally rules. “Public Pervert” is probably the only one I can’t look at right away and remember exactly how it goes, but that may just be because I’m functionally retarted (seriously, I have documentation).
I’m not sure how long Interpol can continue to milk the same cow before they become somewhat stale, but so far they’ve managed to keep me very interested for two consecutive albums, and for that they deserve some credit. Yeah, they added a few keyboards here and there, but except for the organ in “Last Exit” and maybe the piano in “Evil,” you can barely tell they’re there. They’re still first and foremost about the guitars (chimey, ringy, or heavy), Ian Curtis sound-a-like vocals, and stately tempos that occasionally decide to kick some solid ass (“Evil!” “Slow Hands!” “Obstacle 1!”). They’re very good! I like them roughly as much as Coldplay.
Our Love To Admire (2007)
Rating: 7
Best Song: “Mammoth”
Interpol are back and they sound just like Interpol, only with more horns, less snap in their rockers and less “mystery” in their non-rockers. This is to be expected when a good band with unfortunately limited range signs with a major label and attempts to make a big artistic statement. Really, there are horns and marching snare drums in the opening track! And an oboe line! A fucking oboe line! Outside of King Crimson and Roxy Music, who the hell uses an oboe? And what’s with the cover art? Is that supposed to mean something, like about the cruel, barbarian, animalistic instincts of the human race? Or was Carlos D. just stoned at the natural history museum one day? It doesn’t stop with the cover, either. All sorts of lovely stuffed mammalian photos inside, too. I like the one of the little wombat-like creature standing on a moss-covered rock and staring off into the distance. It’s nicely random.
Don’t worry, Interpol are still good, but it’s becoming more and more clear than Turn on the Bright Lights, and specifically the best songs on it like “NYC” and “Obstacle 1,” are the best Interpol’s gonna do. Antics was the same album but a little weaker and without the spectacular highs, and this one is the stereotypical “band signs to major label, tries to expand their musical boundaries, but really doesn’t beyond adding horns because they have no fucking range and it sounds like they’re realizing it themselves” album. The next record will probably react to the generally lukewarm reviews this one has received by trying to be closer to “classic” Interpol and will be rated by me somewhere in the 6-7 range, at which point they’ll commence a slow descent to obscurity and less good music. And this makes me sad, because I thoroughly enjoy Interpol at their best and, having seen them live twice now, can state with certainty that they own my ass, even considering Paul Banks’ seeming inability to, you know, move. This is a good album! It’s very enjoyable, it’s produced superbly, it has a handful of extremely strong tunes, etc. The opening one with the horns and oboe and stuff, “Pioneer to the Falls,” is actually really good, full of all sorts of great dynamics and buildup and subtle production touches and mood shifts and just all kinds of neat stuff. It’s a very admirable song and a very nice achievement for the band. But is it a hypnotically beautiful masterpiece like “NYC?” Fuck no! It’s just a good song.
Listen, I know this is probably entirely subjective, but the best songs on Turn on the Bright Lights and (to a lesser extent) Antics had a dark, mysterious, ultra-hip/urbane kind of vibe that’s impossible to pinpoint, but made Interpol Interpol, and more than just “a band that sounds a lot like Joy Division.” To their credit, they sound far less like Joy Division than they used to, but the new, big, stadium-approved Interpol, while still perfectly capable of writing very enjoyable music, doesn’t have that indefinable “it” that made them so good anymore. Part of it might be the lyrics’ fault (Paul is higher in the mix than ever before), as track 2 (“No I in Threesome”) is about convincing one’s girlfriend to engage in a ménage a Paul (better than a ménage a Sam Fogarino, but still not something I’d personally be down with) and the line “I got this soul, it’s all fired up!” from “All Fired Up” is absolutely moronic and shouldn’t have been allowed to get within 500 feet of this record, but it’s not like lyrics were ever Interpol’s strong suit (remember “Her stories are boring and stuff, she’s always calling my bluff?”). Really, it’s the band. They’re skilled and talented and professional, but, like I said, they don’t have “it” anymore, at least not on this album. “No I in Threesome” is generally good song, but its opening section has this weak piano tinkling thing that made me think “Really? Interpol did this?” when I first heard it.
“It” is there in spots, like how the tempo of “The Heinrich Maneuver” hearkens back to earlier “fast” tracks like “PDA,” and how the opening big chords of the loping “Rest My Chemistry” are a total shock to the system when they first drop in. “Rest My Chemistry” is certainly a highlight (it definitely gives me an “Untitled” vibe), more so than “The Heinrich Maneuver” (the “PDA” soundalike-ness is a bit too much for my taste), but the best song here is undoubtedly “Mammoth,” whose opening connects with “The Heinrich Maneuver” in a way that almost make them sound like one and the same tune. There are several reasons for its awesomeness. First, this is the only song on the album where Paul sounds like his old, mysterious, slightly disturbing self (“Just spaaaaare meeeeeeee…the suspeeeeeeeeeeeense!”). Second, it’s as fast and energetic as “The Heinrich Maneuver” without sounding like it’s riding the coattails of any previous Interpol triumphs. Third, Kessler’s guitar parts are the most consistently interesting and rocking of any tune on the record. Fourth, there’s this part where Paul dispassionately mentions “seven aging daddies” (See, he’s being dispassionate and disconnected! On the rockers, that’s how I want Paul Banks! Don’t try to be on-key, douche!) and Fogarino does this drum entrance with a big gong-like bell sound in the background that is just bad-ass (the only extra production touch that creates real menace instead of “an extra production touch”). Fifth, Paul says “That’s enough with this FUCKING incense!” really forcefully and sound fantastic doing it. The song is genuinely threatening and sounds like old Interpol in tone, not just in musical goodies. It has “it.” The rest of the album does not, especially the nonexistent atmospheric closer “The Lighthouse.” Doesn’t work. Give me dark, menacing mystery. Not five minutes of tinkling noises.
So yes, this is Interpol’s weakest album to date, though it’s still firmly in the “good” range. “Mammoth” is fantastic, and a bunch of others (especially “Pioneer to the Falls,” “Rest My Chemistry,” and the lovely “Pace is the Trick,” which I’ve somehow neglected to mention to this point. Sorry, “Pace is the Trick!” You’re a very good song!) are definite winners as well. It’s a good, solid album, but it’s lacking, as I’ve said before, that “it” that formerly made Interpol’s obvious limitations OK. They still look very dapper, though.