Interpol cast hues of New York noir over Edinburgh’s O2 Academy tonight as they take us on a melancholic journey through 21 glorious years of illuminating, gloom-stained post-punk.
Although the band formed in the late ‘90s and released their defining debut album Turn On The Bright Lights in 2002 as their home city began to emerge from the darkness of the previous year, for me, Interpol’s music has always been backlit with flickers of post-WW2 film noir, albeit a cliched version, heavy on forlorn romances played out in seedy backstreet bars and rain-drenched alleyways. But although drama oozes from every pore of their sound, that’s where the theatrics end, the music doing the talking as the band themselves lurk in the shadows, as cool as the colour palette they portray.
Of course it’s the dark wave of the ‘80s that their sound most recalls and although there’s no denying this influence, it’s fair to say that Interpol have outlived many of their contemporaries and outgrown such comparisons, Paul Banks, Daniel Kessler and Sam Fogarino honing a sound of their own, as luminous, melodic detours offset swathes of despair which emanate from the desolation in Banks’ baritone. In fact, I reckon I’d easily pick out their songs in a line up of the ‘80s most brooding musical moments…well, to a point. The Chameleon’s Perfumed Garden will always throw me!
Dazzling in their dapper but sombre attire, they lead us into their underworld with the uplifting atmospherics of Toni, the opening track and lead single from last year’s introspective The Other Side Of Make-Believe, guitarist and founding member Kessler taking the lead on piano as Banks’ vocals bleed a new-found vulnerability as the song sways and swells. Ditching the piano for his trusty Epiphone Casino, Kessler soon becomes the effortless epitome of rock star cool, suited and silhouetted against a crimson veil of dry ice, as Obstacle 1 sends the crowd wild. With Banks taking over bass duties on recordings since the departure of Carlos Dengler in 2010, touring bassist Brad Truax recreates the masterful bassline, an unsettling tension building alongside Fogarino’s drums as the lush guitar interplay between Kessler and Banks illuminates one of the stand out tracks of Turn On The Bright Lights and indeed their whole back catalogue. Tonight this number feels all the more imposing with added space around Kessler’s stark chimes before crashing head first into the brutal onslaught of the full ensemble. As one of my favourite songs of all time, it’s truly electrifying to be standing so close as they unveil its full glory, whatever those lyrics are all about, and judging by the reaction from the rest of crowd, I’m not alone.
Despite the monochrome filter, the enigmatic Banks reveals a cheerful side, drinking in the fans’ jubilation. He’s surprisingly chatty tonight, often gazing into the audience from behind his obligatory sunglasses, in awe of their enthusiastic reactions. After The Other Side Of Make-Believe’s number Passenger, which features the album title, he tells us that he penned it up the road in Bruntsfield after being holed up in the city during one of the lockdowns, which makes me wonder if we are in fact standing on that other side tonight.
Showcasing more of this latest release, which at times reveals a more tender side, Fogarino’s stuttering drums weave with militant precision through the deliciously bleak revolving riff of Into The Night, which melds beautifully into an uplifting chorus while a similar mesmerising swirl envelopes Fables, which soothes and glows like a modern day lullaby (which are normally laden with disturbing lyrics anyway) while remaining true to Interpol’s sonic rulebook.
Dipping into their back catalogue, the crowd’s in full flow for favourite Evil, from 2004’s Antics, with cries of ‘Rosemary’ echoing around the room while El Pintor’s lead single All The Rage Back Home delights, even if on paper it sounds like something your mum would say. Pioneer To The Fall from 2007’s Our Love To Admire is as spectacular as it is chilling, Kessler’s glacial guitar iced with menace as it meanders through the spotlights, picking up Brandon Curtis’ keys along the way before Banks’ aching vocals send goosebumps soaring, a cinematic Parisian cityscape flashing through my mind even though the song’s influenced by a tragic incident in NYC. Shifting key and tempo to capture every aspect of the unfolding melancholy, Banks’ desolate croons are that of a truly broken man as the drums go off like an artillery assault, the disco ball tracing every release. There’s a cry of ‘gracias,’ from the audience and I’ll add a big fat ‘muchos’ to that. Sublime!
Heading back to the beginning, they thrill the pants off every one of us as they launch into a radiant Turn On The Bright Lights threesome with favourites Roland and The New topped off exquisitely by the tsunamic dark wave of PDA, their first single and a number which was around as an instrumental before Banks even joined. As far as outros go, this one’s up there with Pixies No.13 Baby, and as it plays out, Banks steps back to let Kessler take the spotlight.
Before sending their sweat-drenched formal gear off to the dry cleaners, they’re back for three more numbers, Lights, No I in Threesome (which is hopefully not something your mum would say) and Slow Hands, ending the night with a graciousness which speaks volumes for the appreciation they feel towards their fans. What a performance! In all honestly, I’ve wallowed in plenty gloomy music over the years but never did misery sound quite this magnificent. Grim, right?
Words: Shirley Mack @musingsbymarie
Pictures: Calum Mackintosh@ayecandyphotography