Paranoia is to the fore of Interpol’s music, a dark, edgy concoction, which suggests as well as listening to the best of 1980s British music they’ve also been reading Franz Kafka. Whilst not attempting to mimic the Mancunian accent of Ian Curtis, lead singer Paul Banks appropriates the portentous quality of Curtis’ voice. It comes off to superlative effect on Narc, one of the fastest tracks on the album. Banks works himself into a fury, his singing became increasingly angry. I’m picturing Banks’ face contorted in rage, getting redder and redder before he relaxes just short of self-combustion. 

Other tracks of note include the Television-esque ‘Evil’ which, on the contrary, is really rather good. Then there’s ‘Slow Hands’, a virtual sound alike of ‘Stella Was A Diver & She’s Always Down’, the best track (and not just because of its title) on Turn On The Bright Lights. Interpol further excel at the name game with ‘Public Pervert’, proving that you can, actually, judge a book by its cover. 

The joy of an Interpol album is it’s short but (bitter-) sweet. They never outstay their welcome. Instead they’ll leave you wanting more. And, just as The Hives have found, that’s the secret of success.

(4/5)

Antics