Interpol - "Interpol"

When Interpol puts out an album, there’s an expected comfort level and 2010’s Interpol is no exception. The usual somber and hypnotic cadence that Interpol has brought the band so far is in full force, and immediately recognizable. The rhythmic hat tricks and choralized baritone vocals are all well designed and produced. The fact that the band can hold onto their staple formula is commendable. How then do we account for the fact that this album has been panned for being somewhat misplaced or anemic compared to earlier efforts? If Interpol was eponymously debuted by the band as a first or second release, the album could be seen in a completely different light. True, the radio friendly tracks are not as plentiful, and honestly don’t tread on approachability in some cases, but what may be missing is simply the element of surprise presented in the past. All in all Interpol a good album, but would be better if we had not heard Turn on the Bright Lights.

Interpol is an Interpol album; the band is somewhat of a vehicle at this point in the respective musician’s careers. It is worth noting that bassist Carlos Dengler has left the band, being replaced by David Pajo, a career indie rock musician in his own right. (Pajo’s career includes working with Slint, Tortoise, and Stereolab.) I am curious to see forthcoming releases how and if - Pajo’s input influences Interpol’s signature. Dengler’s style was notable for the sharp harmonic complementing that brought a level of almost instant like-ability to past albums. His contribution is not as prevalent on Interpol and it is this absence that could possibly be pointing to the album’s missing element.

The several stand-out tracks on Interpol will instantly be recognizable. The first & second tracks serve as album introduction and tone definition as the majestic pulse Interpol is known for is re-introduced. The third track, ‘Summer Well’, is a signature Interpol piece, with a catchable bridge and exit. By the time we hear the next track, ‘Lights’, the album has approached a bit of a tired phase. Another notable track, ‘Barricade’, presents a bit of radio friendly fare. Easily one of the singles from the album, but I feel like I’ve heard it before. This is the real problem with the album: it feels too familiar. Interpol immediately wears on the band’s followers and easily can be written off as tired. The album reaches a bit of a lull until about three/quarters of the way through the album, when track 8, comes about. The song ‘Try It On’ feels like the middle of the album. The album has seemed almost lackadaisical up to this point, and this track piques the listener’s ear with a somewhat quirky piano lick, and then quickly delves into standard Interpol syncopated rock standard. The song fades into the next track, ‘All Of The Way’, and we’re now at a slow personal lament with a rehashing of the previous song’s piano lick. Keyboards play a huge role on Interpol and almost seem invasive. This, combined with a general level of non-comfort, may be unforgivable. Tying the album together is a slightly surprising, almost upbeat finale ‘The Undoing’. We’re greeted by a simple guitar hook, personal proclamation from vocalist Paul Banks, then development into a stagnant fade out. The track seems to dwindle a bit but does seem appropriate as the end of a somewhat rested album. Out like a lamb.

Not to back track a bit, but just to specifically delve into track 6, ‘Always Malaise (the Man I Am)’. This is probably the most interesting, yet not entertaining, track; a bit of a mysterious chorus/rhythmic experimentation with unusual vocal harmonization and somewhat odd timing. I love this track. I don’t know that it’s approachable by most standards. There’s a peppering of Interpol evidence, but not enough to make the song a real standout. And yet, I would personally have liked to hear more experimentation similar to this track on Interpol. The song finishes on a format that begs for more - almost a bit of a prequel to the next track - but ‘Safe Without’ plays it safe, reaches for the tried and true Interpol formula and cancels out any momentum of interest presented in the previous song.

I’ve never been one to pretend to comprehend every concept Banks’ lyrics are referring to, but some of Interpol’s past lyrical offerings presented some comically courageous literary bravado that they managed to take on a life of its own. I think that the band members do take themselves a bit too seriously, but the musical credibility and pedigree Interpol has presented so far earns them a right to have a couple of lemons. Interpol is a lemon for Interpol, but since the band as a brand has proven to be a reliable product, the album isn’t that bad. As a fan, I’m hopeful fine-tuned new experiments result from the recent personnel changes and still look forward to Interpol’s future offerings.