INTERPOL: ROYAL CONCERT HALL, GLASGOW

You can sleep tight in the knowledge that Glasgow’s taking no prisoners tonight as it hosts both the general assembly of international polis organisation INTERPOL and sharply-dressed NYC post-punks Interpol, who bring their New York noir to the city’s Royal Concert Hall as they celebrate the 20th anniversary of second album Antics.

Creating a follow up to decadent debut Turn On The Bright Lights was always going to be a tricky task, but Antics, though lacking the raw edge of its predecessor, remained true to the band’s sonic vision and is now considered a modern day classic. With a deep and assertive rhythm section thundering majestically through slices of glacial guitar and bolstered by added layers of synth, its luminous and uplifting melodies offset the swathes of despair that emanate from the desolation in Paul Banks’ vocals. And that’s pretty much what we get for the first set of the evening, the album played out in its full-bodied chronological glory, as guitarist Daniel Kessler, Banks and touring members Brad Truax (bass), Brandon Curtis (keys) and Chris Broome (standing in for drummer Sam Fogarino as he recovers from surgery) slink in and out of focus under a stunning light show.

Opening with the gentle organ sway of Next Exit, the night really kicks off as cries of ‘Rosemary’ ring out around the room on fan favourite Evil. Most tracks maintain a restrained anguish which Banks’ vocals masterfully portray, whatever the subject, such as the eerie elegance of Take You On A Cruise. And it’s this that translates so well to a live setting, a bit like the band themselves who lurk in the shadows, as cool as the colour palette they portray, allowing the music to do the talking. Even the crowd seems restrained, though plenty folk do let go during songs like Slow Hands and C’mere. But taking it easy doesn’t mean they’re not feeling the moment, rather it demonstrates how you can lose yourself in the sombre serenity and beguiling brood without the need to shout Glasgow favourite “Here we fucking go”… Of course, the city isn’t in any way alien to the band, Banks talking of Scottish tour managers and how the place has a special place in their heart. But looking around the crowd, it’s clear how much this performance means to so many. A fan with their hands on their head, overcome with disbelief and joy, couples sharing moments as memories flood back into focus and small groups nudging each other as their own favourites materialise on the stage.

Of the Antics set tonight, Not Even Jail tops the list for me with Truax’ low slung, undulating bass a joy to behold, the late night ambient groove bolder and so much more intoxicating in the flesh while Length Of Love’s disembodied diversions are both subtle and sublime. 

Kessler steps out of the gloom as the second set gets underway after a short break, his bleak revolving riff on Into The Night, from latest album, The Other Side Of Make Believe, both stark and soothing. This set throws some of the band’s finest moments from their other six albums into the spotlight, El Pintor’s lead single All The Rage Back Home one of these, Banks’ vocal oozing a hopelessness and yearning which would weigh heavy on any little heart with a conscience. On hearing this track when she was young, my daughter decided that if Interpol performed it on The Voice (perish the thought), everyone on the panel would turn round. Hmm, I’d bloody well like to think so… And if the band had premiered the next number, Pioneer To The Falls, on the show, I’m pretty sure Tom Jones and Will.i.am would have spun off their big red chairs and into oblivion. Ah well, we can but dream. Drenched in melancholy, the number from 2007’s Our Love To Admire sends goosebumps rising, Kessler’s meandering strokes iced with menace as the crowd hang on to every nuance of Banks’ aching vocals, a cinematic Parisian cityscape flashing through my mind even though the song’s influenced by a tragic incident in NYC. Keys shift to capture every aspect of the unfolding despair until silence prevails, casting an almost celestial aura over the RCH, with only Banks’ desperate croons to be heard, every bit a broken man. A lone ‘come on’ from the audience arrives at just the right moment as the drums go off like an artillery assault through the stalking strobe lights. Breathtaking! 

But it’s numbers from Turn On The Bright Lights that top the night for most, the album, released in 2002, capturing the mood of New York as it emerged from the darkness of the previous year. Tonight NYC sends chills through the crowd, Banks’ disillusionment and helplessness accentuated by Kessler’s searing drills and Broome’s imposing drums. The murky claustrophobia of Roland rouses the crowd earlier on, and Interpol complete the set with the Obstacle 1, the lush guitar interplay between Kessler and Banks illuminating one of the stand out tracks on the album and indeed their whole back catalogue. 

After a quick exit, they return with the tsunamic dark wave of PDA, their first single and a number which was around as an instrumental before Banks even joined Interpol. It’s as dark, demented and delicious as ever tonight, Banks stepping back into the shadows as Kessler take the spotlight for that effortless outro, moving forward to the edge of the stage, the understated epitome of rock star cool. Respect!

Words: Shirley Mack @musingsbymarie
Pictures: Calum Mackintosh @ayecandyphotography