I put on my headphones and started listening to Interpol’s self-titled release with the sole goal of reviewing it. Thirty minutes later, as my mind was off daydreaming, it suddenly occurred to me that I was still listening to the album. That should say something about how interesting Interpol is.
Interpol’s latest effort isn’t engaging in the least. To say it’s a bore would be saying too much, because at least boredom is a reaction.
The main problem is the pacing and mood of the album. Interpol has succeeded brilliantly in the past by either plodding slowly and glibly along (the 2002 debut Turn On The Bright Lights) or having a sly pep to their step – dark but sleek (2005′s Antics). Interpol splits the difference and the results are tedious at best. It’s just not a feel which the band can thrive playing.
An easy target for the blasé is frontman Paul Banks’ singing. On Turn On the Bright Lights, Banks didn’t sing as much as drone — but it was perfect. It matched the atmospheric swells of darkness exuded by the rest of the album. Since then he’s actually started singing with mixed results (the last Interpol record wasn’t great, but his solo album as Julian Plenti was enjoyable). On this record however, the vocals get lost in the forgettable riffs.
There’s no sense in getting angry about Interpol. It doesn’t seem to muster any effort, so neither should any listener. Just let it fade into the walls.
Review Score: 2.0
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