Interpol - Antics

Tue 19th Oct, 2004 in Music Reviews

I’ve been lucky enough to live with this new Interpol release for several weeks (much to my editor’s chagrin) and I’m thrilled that I’ve been able to digest the album for that length of time.

The reason first and foremost is that Interpol, a completely interesting band  – whether you like them or not, lets face it -  has released a totally absorbing album. It’s interesting in the sense that you can’t possibly take it all in on the first couple of listens. Sure, you’ll come up with any number of hasty hypotheses but the record pretty quickly demands many listens to appreciate its array of delights, becoming ever more addictive with each play.

And if that isn’t the mark of a very well crafted album and an incredibly adept band, I don’t know what is.

Back to first impressions. There are things you might have read about Antics, many of which stem from thoughts on those first listens. Musicianship and sharpened playing ability from time on the road? Check. Antics also takes the predominantly dark mood Interpol exhibited so expertly on their debut, Turn On The Bright Lights, and essentially, brightens it up.

Opening track Next Exit and first single, Slow Hands are Interpol does 1950’s swing and dance floor pop (well, Franz Ferdinand style perhaps) respectively. Plus four out of the first five songs feature some kind of disco rhythm. But we’re in safe hands. Pretty soon I realised the upbeat bass and drums turnabout are a result of drummer, Samuel Fogarino, and bassist, Carlos D, using their considerable skills to compose what amounts to a critical part of Interpol’s sound.

This is what makes Interpol so great. There are no weak links. The drums are as important as Paul Bank’s vocal delivery. Carlos D’s propulsive stop start bass playing (and again Banks’ vocals) would be far less interesting without Daniel Kessler’s exquisite, subtle and beautifully imagined guitar playing. There are several songs, Take You On A Cruise in particular, comes to mind, where Kessler’s guitar figures literally cascade around Banks’ vocals, supporting them, yet elevating them simultaneously, as if able to sense exactly what must be provided to keep the vocals from being merely adequate. As a result, Banks sounds emotive, more colourful, passionate and importantly, believable.

Hell, I know it’s only called band chemistry, but this is superbly constructed and seemingly intuitive.

Of course, Antics is so layered and textured that the album changes shape over time. What was once an upbeat turnaround in mood starts to resemble the Interpol of old. That deep melancholic, even stately, streak has not gone anywhere. Paul Banks raises the honesty stakes on Antics and sings clearly and more melodically than the last album certainly, but eventually the feeling of resignation pervades the senses and even comforts.

You know Interpol have progressed wonderfully with changes in their sound, but they are very much still the band that many fans fell for first time round.

In Not Even Jail, Banks gives us a rare glimpse into what might be his take on the whole band exposure merry-go-round:

“I pretend like no one else
To try to control myself
I’m subtle like a lion’s cage
Such a cautious display
Remember take hold of your time here
Give some meanings to the means
To your end
Not even jail.“

One of the top 10 records of the year without doubt.