"PIONEER TO THE FALLS" INTERPOL (2007)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

Following up with a noteworthy album after Turn On The Bright Lights and Antics seemed like an impossible task. As a hardcore Interpol fan at that stage, I was prepared to be let down by my own impossible expectations. Our Love To Admire just didn’t have the same grit and edge. And that’s true, it’s just a different album. Several years later, I’ve come to embrace its uniqueness and like it just as much as the first two heralded albums. “Pioneer To The Falls” is a perfect opener to a different exploration of sound for the band.

When I think of the band’s more haunting tracks, “Pioneer To The Falls” is up there with the best of them. Daniel’s guitar starts out slow, languid and hypnotic, cleverly leading us into Paul’s opening verse. But then the guitar returns before launching into the second verse with that familiar soaring and grating motif that Daniel is known for. But the element that delivers the most haunting effect is the keyboard line from Carlos D. It crawls under your skin and stays there – and a reminder of how exceptionally talented he was as a musician and composer, not just a bassist. The song is nothing without that riff.

“You vanish with no guile and I will not pay, but the soul can wait.”

"LEIF ERICKSON" INTERPOL (2002)

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.”

"NYC" INTERPOL (2002)

For the next 30 days, I’ll be taking the #AprilAcrossAmerica challenge, picking one song a day as I make my way across the country and across genres at the same time.

Day 1: New York, NY

The first two albums from Interpol comprise one of the greatest two-year stretches in modern music history. That’s not an exaggeration. Turn On The Bright Lights is universally viewed as one of the finest albums of the 21st century. And many Interpol fans would argue that Antics is even better. More cohesive. More confident. Antics is a sign of a band firing on all cylinders. Musically, “NYC” is not my favorite Interpol song. However, it’s the one track that I’ve felt most attached to. NYC, after all, has been my home for the past 25 years. And it’s where the band met and first made a name for themselves by playing at small venues in the Lower Eastside. This is a song about my city that I truly get and can relate to.

The song begins like an ending. It doesn’t depict the city’s bright lights. If anything, it shines a bright light on the dark underbelly of the city. The opening line is one of Paul Banks’ finest: “I had seven faces. Thought I knew which one to wear.” Anyone who’s lived in the city for a few years can understand this honest sentiment. Daniel Kessler’s grating guitar riff is an outpouring of emotion. And on the original recording, Carlos D and Fogarino man a rhythm section that reminds me of walking city streets where, with great effort, we manage to put one foot ahead of the other. My love-hate relationship with this city, expressed beautifully and hauntingly in one of Interpol’s signature tracks.

“I HAD SEVEN FACES. THOUGHT I KNEW WHICH ONE TO WEAR.”

"THE LIGHTHOUSE" INTERPOL (2007)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

Our Love To Admire is an album that was a bit of an acquired taste for me. Lacking the instant likability of Turn On The Bright Lights and Antics, OLTA has gotten better over time for one reason. This is Interpol stretching and exploring, creating some of their most epic musical arrangements ever. “Rest My Chemistry” is the big one. “Pioneer To The Falls” is a killer opener. But the track that I only turned onto recently is the deep cut “The Lighthouse”.

I used to think that Interpol was at its best when it thrusted the rhythm section to the foreground, and paired Kessler’s angular guitar tirades with Banks singing with a catatonic gusto. But there’s another side to the band that’s under appreciated and exceptionally unique: the dark, expansive side. “The Lighthouse” might be the best example of this. Cinematic. Enveloping. Haunting. I could listen to it a hundred times in a row and still be caught off guard with the instrumental transition at the 4:25 mark. In some ways, it is the quintessential deep cut. Interpol giving the fans something more, something different, something truly ambitious.

“Here I've been loosened, unliving within. Inwardly urgent, I'm sinking again.”

"LEIF ERICKSON" INTERPOL (2002)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

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.”

"NEXT EXIT" INTERPOL (2004)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

Interpol’s debut album Turn On the Bright Lights is hailed as one of the greatest albums of the 2000s. It’s an album that encapsulated the times. It is a masterpiece. But I think Antics is better. It was a different type of statement for the band. It was less of a sign of the times, and more a sign of a band completely in the zone. This was Interpol playing with an incredible level of confidence. The album flows so naturally and almost effortlessly. More cohesive than even Turn On The Bright Lights, Antics is the Interpol album I still turn to again and again. And it all starts with the prelude, “Next Exit”.

“Next Exit” is a teaser. It’s a track that eggs you on, and hints at something extraordinary to follow. The song is drawn out like it’s played in slo-mo. Kessler’s signature guitar riff soars while Fogarino’s drum part descends. Carlos D.’s bass line lurks with subtlety, saving its glory for the killer opening riff on “Evil”. And Paul Banks’ haunting baritone feels a bit like Ian Curtis reincarnated. “Next Exit” doesn’t contain the bravado of songs like “Slow Hands”, “C’mere”, “Narc” and “Not Even Jail”, but it’s the track that sets up all of these great songs so marvelously.

“We ain't goin' to the town. We're goin' to the city.”

"NYC" INTERPOL (2002)

One of the most powerful things about music is that it is the soundtrack of our lives. Fellow music fanatic Sharon Hepworth started a music challenge on Twitter for the month of July. Each day, fans around the world will select a song from their life and describe what it means to us. These are my songs. #SoundtrackToYourLife

Day 22

The first two albums from Interpol comprise one of the greatest two-year stretches in modern music history. That’s not an exaggeration. Turn On The Bright Lights is universally viewed as one of the finest albums of the 21st century. And many Interpol fans would argue that Antics is even better. More cohesive. More confident. Antics is a sign of a band firing on all cylinders. Musically, “NYC” is not my favorite Interpol song. However, it’s the one track that I’ve felt most attached to. NYC, after all, has been my home for the past 25 years. And it’s where the band met and first made a name for themselves by playing at small venues in the Lower Eastside. This is a song about my city that I truly get and can relate to.

The song begins like an ending. It doesn’t depict the city’s bright lights. If anything, it shines a bright light on the dark underbelly of the city. The opening line is one of Paul Banks’ finest: “I had seven faces. Thought I knew which one to wear.” Anyone who’s lived in the city for a few years can understand this honest sentiment. Daniel Kessler’s grating guitar riff is an outpouring of emotion. And on the original recording, Carlos D and Fogarino man a rhythm section that reminds me of walking city streets where, with great effort, we manage to put one foot ahead of the other. My love-hate relationship with this city, expressed beautifully and hauntingly in one of Interpol’s signature tracks.

“I had seven faces. Thought I knew which one to wear.”

"C'MERE" INTERPOL (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

There aren’t many years that were as rich and prolific in terms of music recordings as 2004. That year, we saw key studio releases from Modest Mouse, TV on the Radio, Franz Ferdinand, Keane, Broken Social Scene, The Killers, Interpol, among others. Interpol’s Antics is my favorite album from that year. While the debut record Turn on the Bright Lights may have carried greater significance and helped establish the New York City post-punk revival scene, Antics has always been my go-to. It is Interpol absolutely and resolutely locked in from beginning to end. There’s a confidence in every note — and one of the tracks that led the charge was “C’Mere”.

“C’Mere” might be one of Daniel Kessler’s most versatile guitar showcases from the Interpol catalog. The hooks just keep coming, barely coming up for air as Kessler launches into one post-punk riff after another. Together, Carlos D and Fogarino formed one of the decade’s boldest and brashest rhythm sections. Beats that started, stopped and stuttered their way along, bar after bar. On “C’Mere” they seem to be surfing on a tidal wave. Meanwhile, Paul Banks gave this sinister vocal performance that more than made up for forgettable lyrics. The vocals truly captured the haunting aura of Antics, like a modern day Ian Curtis.

“It's way too late to be this locked inside ourselves. The trouble is that you're in love with someone else.”

"LIGHTS" INTERPOL (2010)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

By the time Interpol’s fourth album came out, I had begun to lose hope that they could recover to the stature of the first two albums. I don’t think they’ve been back at that level since. But “Lights” was an anomaly. It was epic. While Turn on the Bright Lights and Antics had the full body of work from top to bottom, “Lights” shined on a self-titled LP that lacked depth.

Like a good story, a good song has an arc. A good song doesn’t stay up at one level for 3 or 4 minutes and then call it quits. It goes somewhere. It takes you on a journey. This is the strength of “Lights”. Like so many Cure anthems before it, it builds with multiple layers, each coming in at their appointed time. It’s not a cheap pop thrill like “Barricade”, it instead envelopes you slowly and decisively.

“All that I see is peaceful eyes drawn away from me.”

"EVIL" INTERPOL (2004)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

As a band, Interpol peaked way too early. Antics is arguably their best recording, maybe only bested by the debut album Turn on the Bright Lights. Everything was clicking on Antics, which portrayed a band with an unbelievable confidence in their sound and aesthetic while others fell into their sophomore slump. There is no weak track on the album, but I think “Evil” had more ingenuity than all of them combined.

“Evil” is a masterpiece in music dynamics. It goes against the grain in just about every way. First, it begins with a killer bass line before anything else, a harsh reminder that this band is no longer the same without Carlos D. It speeds up, it slows down, it speeds back up. The pace catches you off guard. From the verses to the chorus, the guitar riffs come in before you expect them to slot in. The sound goes full, then goes stark, then flourishes once again. These dynamics give “Evil” intrigue and personality, making it extremely hard to grow old even after a hundred listens.

“It took a life span with no cellmate to find the long way back.”

"NYC" INTERPOL (2002)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

This might be the one song on Turn on the Bright Lights that continues to grow on me with every listen. Released about a year after 9/11, “NYC” gave us a glimpse of the city that was here before and after the attacks. It’s an unglamorous treatise on the alienation and the pressure to keep “turning on the bright lights”. It’s a side to New York City that’s surprisingly absent in music.

Paul Banks’ vocals are the centerpiece of the song, and they’re even more haunting than usual on “NYC”. It sounds like he’s singing beneath a subway grate, but the echo effect convinces you he’s not really there. Everything else on the track is subdued. This isn’t the edgy, rhythmic Interpol we know and love. The bass and drums are deliberately scaled back — and Daniel Kessler’s guitar riffs are quieter, using a variety of tamer strums and slides. “NYC” is a song with millions of different interpretations for each person that lives here — and it has taken on a whole new meaning during the pandemic.

“I had seven faces. Thought I knew which one to wear. I'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care.”

"PDA" INTERPOL (2002)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

There was a good four-year stretch when Interpol was my favorite band on the planet. They just got it. They wore my city on their sleeve. They recovered all the right elements of post punk. And they made me want to be in a band. Something I hadn’t felt since The Stone Roses. It all started with Turn on the Bright Lights and one of the lead singles, “PDA”.

Listening back to “PDA” again, I’m reminded how eerily similar Paul Banks’ catatonic vocals are to Ian Curtis. I remember how Daniel Kessler brought a new style of guitar grating that frankly no one else has gotten right — that strangely nauseating, yet entrancing pull. And I look back and marvel at the pulsating, rhythmic bed laid down by Carlos D. and Fogarino. “PDA” was decade-defining and a musical playground in the post-9/11 era.

“We have two hundred couches where you can sleep tight, grim rite.”

"NARC" INTERPOL (2004)

Everything great about the early Interpol years came together nearly flawlessly on “NARC”. Kessler’s pointed and grating guitar strums. Paul Banks’ haunting baritone belting and echoing in space. And Carlos D and Sam Fogarino laying down a multi-rhythmic tapestry. It’s one of the underrated glue tracks on Antics. It’s powerful and magnetic in concert. And it’s still one of my all-time favorite Interpol anthems after all these years.

“You can see that the gazing eye won't lie.”

"THE NEW" INTERPOL (2002)

Bright Lights is the blueprint for New York post-punk revival. These songs literally rose from the ashes, written two months after 9/11 and released the year after. Every track on the album is a classic by now. And “The New” has always been one of my favorites. There’s more musical dimension and variation in there than in a typical Interpol song. “The New” unfolds like a post-apocalyptic piece of classical music, one movement after another. But it’s still Interpol doing Interpol.

“I wish I could live free. I hope it's not beyond me. Settling down, it takes time. One day we'll live together. And life will be better.”