A few weeks ago, I went to the Outbreak All Points East festival in Victoria Park, London. My main reason for going was a love of some of the newer acts in attendance: rappers like JPEGMAFIA and EsDeeKid, as well as the ever-entertaining IDLES. Not to mention the headliners, Deftones! But the band that really stole the show and left a truly meaningful impression on me was the effortlessly cool Interpol.
Interpol released their new album, This Mirror Weighs a Ton, just last week, and it really looks to be the album that is going to set them back in the right direction, following, in my opinion, a few slightly spotty records in recent history.
But for me, the record that truly defines the band, and the one that has stuck with me for years now, is their 2002 debut, Turn On the Bright Lights.
Interpol’s story certainly isn’t a typical one. They came up through the early-2000s New York indie boom, alongside artists like The Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Their success, however, was not as instant or glamorous as that of their counterparts. From the beginning, the band struggled to get their name out there, and tensions between the members were prevalent. They started out in small clubs before their debut album, often playing to small crowds and receiving mixed reactions. Many felt that their sound was not moving with the times, particularly with its moody aesthetic, but the band were confident in what they were doing — and scraped together the funds to record an album they hoped would launch them into the spotlight.
The band have said on many occasions that this recording period was hellish, with pre-existing tensions reaching an all-time high. It’s been said that most days Daniel Kessler was watching the clock and worrying about the limited recording time, while Carlos D wanted to stop and go to the bar. The arguments were amplified not only by the crushing time and financial pressure, but also by a clash in artistic vision. Bassist Carlos D pushed for more ’80s inspiration, with synthesisers and complex background parts, whereas other members, such as lead singer Paul Banks and lead guitarist Daniel Kessler, were trying to push the sound in a more contemporary direction.
This pushback from both sides is (to me) what makes this album and band so special. This weird blend of sounds and genres, as well as a sort of desperation from each instrument, comes together as a beautifully haunting amalgamation.
The album initially saw a slow burn in terms of success, but enough to get them onto a US tour, which really helped grow their audience in parts of the country. Not unlike The Strokes, the band saw that the best way to share their music around the globe was initially through the UK. They embarked on a UK tour - hitting student towns - but this was another low for the band. Paul Banks has talked about what was supposed to be their biggest gig yet, in the student heart of Manchester. What they didn’t realise was that they had booked this over the Easter weekend, so almost all the students had gone home! It was only through years of continuous touring and recording that Interpol truly got their flowers.
I could go into detail about every track, but there are two on the record that really stand out to me as examples of what makes Interpol so great. ‘Untitled’ was written to be not only the opening track of the album, but also the opening track of their live shows. It starts with Kessler’s simple but haunting guitar riff, followed by Sam Fogarino’s drums, which, to me, stands as one of the most air-drummable moments in music history.
Suddenly, the sound that is Interpol kicks in all at once, with the melody carried unusually (but not for the band) by Carlos D’s bass. On this record, his parts seldom simply follow the guitar; instead, they offer an integral sub-melody to the tracks. After some time, we hear Paul Banks’ vocals. The only lyric in this entire song is the line:
Surprise sometime
I’ll come round
This incredibly simple and vague style is exactly where he thrives as a frontman, adding to the dark and intriguing character of the songs. The combination of all these elements creates a rich, echoey, wailing texture and serves as an introduction to a band as good as any.
The other moment that really encompasses what makes Interpol special is the song ‘PDA’. This is one of their more energetic songs, with more complicated and varied lyrics than on ‘Untitled’. Here, Banks’ lyrics are truly enigmatic and leave the listener with a lot to digest - despite their deceptively simple wording:
Yours is the only version of my desertion that I could ever subscribe to
That is all that I can do
You are a past dinner, the last winner, I'm raking all around me
Until the last drop is behind you
The first portion of the song follows a more post-punk style, with clear Joy Division influences in the simple yet effective guitar lines and unusual vocal style. But just when the song might reach a traditional ending, all the instruments drop out except Kessler’s guitar. Slowly, the instruments build back up around a lovely, gradually progressing riff. Finally, Carlos D’s bass drops an octave and the whole band comes back in full force, with a remarkable yearning vocal segment from Banks.
