Two line review:

“Second album from New York’s sophis-art rock crew finds them playing with new textures and rolling out mature, impressively engaging song writing”

Full review:

“you’ve been building up steam”

Interpol’s matt black limousine, parked briefly outside a rural Connecticut recording studio is accelerating back towards the rock and roll highway, almost certainly full of quietly grinning young men.

Interpol have every reason to be smug, for this return of the most enigmatic of New York’s art-rock set should not be underestimated. The land lies very differently from the time of their first release - Post bloom, with the heady rush and thrill of guitar laden, 80s influenced bands waning, industry and fans alike are looking to the edgier, more creative spaces for their kicks.

They’re sure to find them here; Interpol have written a record whose resonance and heavyweight song writing credentials could well rocket them beyond their current modest standing (and a key spot on the Cure’s “Curiosa” tour won’t do them any harm either). This second effort for Matador Records starts out with the beautiful “Next Exit”; ostensibly a paean to the seaside (Coney Island, anyone?) the opener eschews the cinematic ambience of their last record, setting the tone with a very different sonic palette. Gone are the washing delay and reverb soundscapes; Thick guitars are replaced by taught, tense riffing, seesawing sustained chords and rainspot splashes of echo suffused with whimsical Wurlitzer Organ. “Evil” is almost a pop song – tight, crisp, the sonic equivalent of an agnes b suit - cut just this side of dirty. Take a moment. It’s important to note the great sonic steps we’re hearing - Lead singer Paul Banks, once dwelling resplendently in his lugubrious lower register stretches his range throughout this disc, finding new notes – a softer tone – with what can only be his own true voice emerging. So then, a departure.

“baby, don’t you try to fight”

NARC shares the crisp arpeggios and stabbing chords, Daniel Kessler’s urgent, shard like notes tying the complex mix together – quixotic, shipwrecked and sensual, driven by Samuel Fogarino’s reassuringly precise percussion, this is sure to be a single and concert favourite.

“you watched the pole dance”

c’mere, the standout single from the surprisingly brief collection of ten tunes fairly belts along, a complex and carefully orchestrated rhythm section, married to a pair of restrained guitars clocking in at a restrained 3.11;
Length Of Love too benefits from some trim production – Peter Katis’ studio influence has nipped and tucked at these live treats that fans seized upon and devoured as a new direction. But here, in the record, they are viewed through the lens of this entire body of work – sharp, distinct and intense.

“we can’t get back from here”

As a disc it flows remarkably well. From the curious fairground attraction of Next Exit, to the sweet “A time to be so small” (which an exhausted listener will greet with thankful release); they rarely drop the ball, finally dropping the tempo and moving into almost a slow groove, “small” (first seen a few years ago) drips with the new flavours of rich synth, Hammond organ and expanded vocals – “you cannot leave” a rousing crescendo and genuine goose bump moment, although the greatest praise must be reserved for “Take you on a cruise” which takes the Interpol trademarks of punctuated bass and picked guitar and distils it into nearly five minutes of jaw dropping sensual goodness – the chorus as good as anything they have ever written. It is as if Banks is swathed in the soft billowing silk of the sails of an imaginary cruise liner he describes, “drowning in a wake of delight” irresistibly beckoning the listener like a beautiful deadly male siren, exalting the joys of travel, discovery, and unbridled dark pleasures.

“history will treat you right”

Only on Slow Hands do Interpol briefly falter; destined to date more than the rest of this otherwise surprising and respect inducing work, it lacks substance, sounding a little as if it were built from discarded riffs, lyrical content and one too many retro drum motifs, Banks sounds awkward, rushed and detached.

“you’ll never receive a better tip in your life…”

Writing the second album is often a difficult rite of passage for a band, eager to prove that their first release contained momentum; Interpol not only prove their longevity but awe the listener with a mature and thoughtful record. Shorn of artschool pretensions, this is the sound of a band that has lived their dream and already assimilated it; one who has developed something rounded, you can almost hear the tastes developing - a crystal bowl rather than bong, trading the coke spoon for a Stirling silver one. Come and taste.