Interpol have always looked to adapt and develop, never limited or marginalised to the 1990’s hype of post-punk bands they were first associated with.
The departure of bassist Carlos D and a solo project from frontman Paul Banks has led to the rediscovering of strength which is ‘El Pintor‘, their fifth album.
It is the result of a band banging heads until they explode in what can only be seen as their best album in the strangest of ways imaginable. We bear witness to a new group, playing to their strengths and channelling their love of guitar-driven, melodic melancholy through ten fantastic tunes.
Opener and first single proper ‘All The Rage Back Home’ starts slow as Banks’ recited poem accompanies Daniel Kessler’s chiming and intricate guitar moans. Haunting and heartfelt, it’s the most graceful way to punch someone in the face; straight to the core of all we care about in a pure piece of pop intelligence, yet oddly punk and with a punchy bass that’s abrasive to the senses.
The fantastic guitar introductions are back, instantly Interpol, so sharp they catch anything that crosses their path. ‘My Desire’ is lacking the baritone that once exploded from Banks, although now it displays a voice that has somehow grown into a more mature and meaningful croon. Never defeated in power, it suits the song’s strong structure perfectly; climactic, cinematic, gentle but unbreakable. Similarly, ‘Anywhere’ comes with a chorus projecting and propelling itself into all kinds of craziness, the sexiness and spiky edges that gained Interpol success in the first place returning to the fold in a triumphant blaze, bettering itself after every verse and chorus.
‘My Blue Supreme’ unearths a falsetto confessional, soaring sneakily above patches of metallic guitars and drums that pick-lock every padlock with a delicate touch, paying attention to details fine and small. It does dip, delve and dive into the more wacky side of the band; the unusual time signatures, the utilising of silence, unorthodox melodies and menacing guitar strokes cruising confidently, overarching and underlying to add more credit to a truly remarkable piece of work, moving forward but not forced, flowing naturally.
The bass player might have exited, but good bass work hasn’t. ‘Everything Is Wrong’ sets the mood by crushing skulls rather than lighting candles, the bass bouncing and bombastic, erratic and adrenalised and pouncing upon the lawless drums lovingly, mood being a key word as though the more the album seems to come to its natural conclusion, the more intricately it becomes entangled in a dream state.
‘Breaker 1‘ and ’Ancient Ways’ are finely tuned and fabulously twisted, never stopping before red lights or pausing for breath in what can only be seen as straight-forward indie anthems; atmospheric, tumultuous and obscure, played loud in a suburban landscape where darkness only occasionally fades.
The main element to take from this album is its ability to be automatically Interpol, but still a conscious departure from what has preceded. There’s an analogy with chemistry that fits the band’s return. As a compound, they were a four-atom molecule, now they’re a three-atom molecule. The new structure doesn’t mean they’re weaker, they are stronger, more radioactive, with a fresh energy planted in the songs’ tight structures and the album’s detailed set.
It’s a cliché to talk of being different come every new album; but in Interpol’s case talk is cheap, truly achieving it is had made the dream become reality.
