INTERPOL - S/T (Matador)

What the hell am I doing writing a review of the new Interpol album? The band long ago appeared to pass their expiration date. Even when they seemed to be the most relevant band in the world, it was not without question. For anyone other than entry-level alts, their much-heralded debut "Turn On The Bright Lights" was burdened with not unfounded accusations of recycling post-punk's sacred scriptures, particular Joy Division. Even when it appeared there might be something original to their sound, someone would come along and point to a band that had been there and done that years prior. In other words, Interpol was never the most authentic band in the world, and among most serious music snobs, they enjoyed about the same status as Oasis - a guilty pleasure whispered about only to those you know and trust enough to share such a dark secret with.

So why am I writing a review of the new Interpol? Maybe it's because I shared in that dark secret. After initially dismissing the band, the seductive sway of "Bright Lights" eventually got to me and admittedly I loved it more than any self-respecting music snob ever should. Their follow up "Antics," was less thrilling, but still decent. Then the inevitable happened; the band's brand of post-punk revivalism began to fall out of favor and they turned in a third album that was so forgettable that it threatened to make the band itself forgettable, or at least as easy to dismiss as they initially seemed. So it was almost as a joke that I took a copy of the band's new album for review. Surprisingly, it doesn't suck. It's not a great album, and it isn't about to set the world on fire like "Bright Lights" did, but it isn't entirely without merit.

First the good; to begin with singer/guitarist Paul Banks' voice is the most prominent feature of the album, which is a very good thing. Banks' has one of the darkest and sexiest croons of anyone working today. He is able to impart longing, seduction and menace in equal measure with a richness lacking among nearly every other indie-rock vocalist (The National's Matt Berninger excluded). Throughout the album Banks' voice stands out against everything else, and, for the most part, it is that voice that carries the record. Thankfully for the rest of the band this is a guy who could read the phone book and make it sound good.

Another plus is that taken as a whole, Interpol has created a consistent mood piece with this record. The band sounds darker and more subdued here than before, making for a more than satisfactory fall listen. With the exception of the stellar "Lights" it takes many listens to differentiate between songs, since most maintain a similar mid-tempo pulse that works just fine under the right conditions.

Now the bad; Interpol has created a consistent mood piece and less of an album of individual songs. Yes, as stated above it works just fine if you are looking for some good autumnal background music, but nothing really pops here, except "Lights," but more about that in a moment. What made "Bright Lights" successful was not just darkly romantic posturing, it was also killer rock songs that contained memorable choruses, bridges and shifts in mood. Here the band settle into one gear and stay there. Granted, it isn't a bad gear, it just makes for a much less dynamic ride than these guys are capable.

Admittedly after many repeat listens details start to reveal themselves that at first were easy to gloss over, like the powerful ending of "Always Malaise (The Man I Am)" and the coiled intensity of the album's quasi-conclusion "Try It On", which is followed by the strangely beautiful and stately "All of the Ways." The problem is that you really have to dig into this album to separate out those components from what is overall a dark and chilly mass of undifferentiated sound. Certainly one could argue that it's those albums that reveal themselves over time that are the best, and often I would agree, but I don't think that is going to be the case here.

The single exception to this criticism is "Lights," which is Interpol's best song since "Bright Lights". The song begins with just Banks and a skeletal guitar before drums, bass and keys come in and build into a slow burn that only gets more intense throughout the piece. The track has the same dark restless energy that the best tracks on "Bright Lights" did. Consequently, the band sounds more alive than they have in years. It's a bright shining light in a sea of drab, and also a reminder that - dammit - these guys can do better than this. Period.

To answer my own question about why in the hell I would do a review of the new Interpol, it's because this isn't really the joke I thought it would be, and it deserves reasoned criticism, rather than outright dismissal. If anything the record makes me want these guys to produce something really great, because the components are there. They have the mood, they have the voice, they have the chops, they just need to remember what it was like to write a rock song again. They should take a lesson from their spiritual forefathers Joy Division. Ian Curtis danced his ass off, while Peter Hook pounded out some of the most enthralling basslines ever, even when they were playing songs about atrocities. That band proved that you can be as dark as you want, but still rock and groove like hell. Banks and crew should know by now that their subdued cool has nothing on that kind of intensity. Turn the bright lights back on guys, it's okay to break a sweat every now and then.

Wheeler who has been strangely silent about music for about a month now had this to say: "Interpol, Intertool. Who cares?"

"Lights"


"Barricade"