Interpol formed at a time when the scuzzy bars of the Lower East Side and Williamsburg unleashed a bevy of angsty, angular guitar bands who seemed to emerge, fully formed and ready for the cover of the NME, but this dapper unit always stood apart from their peers with ideas much too grand for the underground. On their latest LP, it’s evident the band’s Venn diagram wasn’t dented by the trials of the pandemic and they’ve instead returned to break fresh ground.
Written remotely during lockdown, with Interpol’s three members scattered across continents, The Other Side of Make-Believe feels noticeably more measured and intimate than previous work. Forced to reimagine their rehearsal room approach to live songwriting, Paul Banks’ sonorous vocals have shifted to a shadowy torchsong croon. Another noticeable element is a greater sense of space in the tracks, encouraged by the legendary producing duo of Alan Moulder and Flood, which amplifies the idiosyncratic, snake-hipped riffs of guitarist Daniel Kessler and drummer Sam Fogarino’s inventive, disruptive accents and grooves.
More unexpected perhaps is the album’s emotional tone. Sure, there are still seductive fictions and cinematic smokescreens, but also flickers of light and an optimism that reflects the band’s disgust at the slippery nature of reality in the information age.
Their methods may have refined, but a quarter-century down the line Interpol are all fired up again and still one of the most distinctive and enduring rock groups around.
