The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.
Year: 2002
Turn On The Bright Lights, in retrospect, seems to garner even more accolades for its contributions to the post-punk revival movement than when it was first released. It was such an important album coming off the heels of 9/11. To this day, it’s viewed by many to be the best Interpol record from beginning to end. (Not for me though, that would be Antics). TOTBL is full of grating, rhythmic bangers that cut to the bone. They are anthems of early 2000s indie rock. And the track that I turn back to over and over again is one of the lesser celebrated ones: the closer “Leif Erickson”.
Images of navigating murky waters in the bedroom at the dead of night are conjured up every time I hear it. Kessler’s and Banks’ guitars weave in and out like they’re making love to each other. Meanwhile, Carlos D (God, I miss this guy) and Fogarino lay down a rhythmic bed that ships you off to sea in your pajamas and all. As a closing track, it leaves a certain taste in your mouth and a sense of anticipation of what’s to come next for this very important band.
“SHE SAYS IT HELPS WITH THE LIGHTS OUT. HER RABID GLOW IS LIKE BRAILLE TO THE NIGHT.”