Antics |
Interpol
I will not apologize for enjoying Interpol
albums. Not that anybody has asked me to, but there seems to
be something almost unsavory about admitting the joy in hearing
their take on Joy Division.
I mean it's not as if I'm saying I like The
Killers or something (though they do have some serious guilty
pleasure tunes), but there is something that sticks in my throat
with a feeling of lameness when copping to even my love of Antics,
which practically nobody seemed to care about. And then came
this one. They cared not even enough to name the album, which
is a bad first sign. You go with self-titled on your debut,
not four albums in. Is this supposed to signal re-birth? If
so, this is a karmic move that they may want to go back and
hit the rewind button on. Everything sounds quite nice. The
production is beautiful as usual, but most every song falls
into this mysterious level of drone that just kind of weighs
on the album and makes it feel almost like it's sinking slowly
in a vast ocean towards the sea floor. They barely even cover
that fact with track six entitled "Always Malaise." From there
the album just kind of spirals into monotone (and Spanish).
It's really quite unbearably heavy at times. I know the band
has always towed the line between pop and art, but I'm really
a pop guy at heart. I want dynamicism and hooks. Wall of sound
and layered grumbles aren't my thing, and this album leans way
too heavily on dense soundscapes, rather than going for songs
that people might actually want to air guitar to. |
Our Love to Admire |
Turn on the Bright Lights |
Musical Connections:
Julian Plenti
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