Labels: Matador
Review by: Chris Gissing
All the hype at the moment points to Interpol perhaps being the next big thing to come out of NYC since, say, The Strokes. But rather than a catchy retro-fuelled album we have a much deeper and, yes, more meaningful effort. “I will surprise you some time” and they are not kidding. Interpol’s new release “Turn On The Bright Lights” opens with an epic beginning, and the subdued vocals play only a minor part to some excellent guitar work and genuinely atmospheric feel. These same subdued vocals soon, and suddenly, become much more important.
Featuring guitar work which sounds like they’re a part of the late eighties Manchester zeitgeist; the realisation hits you that this band should NOT be hailing from New York. In fact what we have is Joy Division for the post Millennia. But wait. This album doesn’t sound exactly like the Factory Records prodigies, but rather has the same sweeping morose tendencies and quilted emotion – singer Paul Banks is playing the Ian Curtis role with aplomb.
Rather than being overwhelmed by the darkness of the whole thing (reference to the title, perchance?) the listener is left in musical limbo with occasionally happy sounding guitars juxtaposed with the mournsome, dark vocals and lyricism.
“NYC” is the third track, and this is getting addictive listening. The song structures are such that you hang on the lead singer Banks’ every word. “somehow youve supported me for a long time / somehow i’m not impressed”. More epic guitar work makes this a real standout track. There is a very tangible feeling of emotion on this record, and it deserves more than a few listens to really get to grips with it. Call it a grower. The line “I’m sick of spending these lonely nights, training myself not to care” somewhat haunts.
Onwards and upwards, quite literally, since “PDA” has a much happier vibe to it, compared to most of the album, and the melodic punk ethic of the music really starts to become evident.
The album is breathtakingly consistent, and sounds remarkably accomplished for a first effort. We had some excellent clues to their greatness from the (woefully ignored) EPs which have been released by the band, but this comes as a very pleasant surprise indeed.
“Stella was a diver and she was always down” really bolsters the latter part of the album. Interpol deliver this track in a pseudo-live performance style, complete with spoken word intro to the song and a definite “in one take” production ethic.
The song itself is a touching ballad, when examined lyrically, but still finds time for almost experimental instrumentation throughout the 7 minute track. Banks sounds for all the world like he is paying homage to Robert Smith, Ian Curtis and the like.
The album becomes even more elegiac towards the finish, and ends in that abrupt, yet clever manner which always makes the listener want so much more. This is genre-altering stuff – a feat made more remarkable by the fact that this is in spite of the plethora of musical references and similarities.