Tag Archives: interpol

#1222: Interpol – Slow Hands

Well, this is the last Interpol song that’s gonna be on here. A real shame, to be sure. Some of you may click on the ‘Interpol’ tag at the end of blog, witness the others posts about the band I’ve written on here and come to a conclusion that I might be quite the basic fan of them because they’re all singles. And I wouldn’t argue with you. But I’ve listened through at least five Interpol albums. The band’s first three are the best ones, and the singles are almost usually the best numbers on them. At least to me. And then bassist Carlos Dengler left after the fourth one, and it hasn’t been the same since.

But when the songs are good, they’re very, very good, and this can be said for today’s featured number ‘Slow Hands’ – the first single from Interpol’s Antics, released in 2004. It may have very well be the first Interpol song I’d ever heard too, again, thanks to the good people who were working at MTV2 back in the day. I want to say I may have saw the video a couple times initially, a few months passed, and then for some reason the video started showing quite regularly. That reason turned out to be that the song was being released as a single again over in the UK. It got to a lower position than the first time.

The old family CRT-TV had this thing where the right speaker played much more loudly than the left. And from listening to Antics, I know the interplay between Daniel Kessler and Paul Banks’s guitars are usually the main focus. So I missed out on that for a while. But even hearing the right side, featuring Kessler’s guitar part, it didn’t stop the song from sounding as good as it did. ‘Slow Hands’, I think, is a song about love and all the aspects of it. Falling into it, not trying hard enough to find it, being heartbroken after rejection. I put an emphasis on ‘I think’ because Paul Banks’s lyrics are written in a way that really doesn’t make the subject matter obvious in any kind of fashion, yet they still possess a poetic quality to them. Banks sounds fantastic behind the microphone here too. He does throughout the whole album. The comparisons to Ian Curtis of Joy Division was a huge thing for a while. The reference to a song of that band here may be a joking nod to them. But there’s a particular tone to them on this track that have always been captivating since that first time I heard it.

#1021: Interpol – PDA

Oh, God, it’s my birthday. Hooray, hooray, hooray. 28 and still going on. A lot of people never made it this far. Very sure I had mu 18th birthday post on here. Might have to check that one out, see how I was doing. Actually, I’ll skip that – 2013 was a bit of an awkward one. Clinging onto what’s left of the 20s now, but probably feeling happier now than I have been in a long while. And that’s all that matters really, right? Personal well-being and all that. Anyway, let’s move on, let’s move on.

Eagle-eyed readers out there who might have a keen interest in Interpol and what I write on here may have noticed that I once wrote about ‘NYC’, and now I’m on ‘PDA’. So you may wonder, “Well, where was the post for ‘Obstacle 1’?” Answer is, I used to like that song quite a bit. But then it lost me along the way. ‘PDA’ though, is probably my favourite song from Turn on the Bright Lights, without question. Initially, I came across it by chance when its video showed up on MTV2 many years back. I had been accustomed to at least some of the band’s work at that point. Videos for ‘Evil’, ‘Slow Hands’ and the aforementioned ‘Obstacle 1’ were usual sights to see. As a result, ‘PDA’ was like a new track to me. But with the short attention span that I had as a kid, and the fact that TV speakers never do music justice anyway, I didn’t think much of it. But give the guy a few more years of life and some good headphones, and he exposes himself to broader horizons.

This track constantly feels like its pushing itself forward, constantly striding with this driving quality, and it all begins with the very first strike of the crash cymbal. After a few measures of the bustling drum introduction, the rest of the guitars join in – and every note/chord that’s struck is hit simultaneous alongside every beat happening on the kick drum, which also adds to this building tension. I think it’s agreed amongst the indie consensus that the rhythm section is the highlight in the majority of the album’s songs, particularly Carlos Dengler’s bass playing, and, my god, is there no better example of that aspect than on this song. Many times I’m humming and “ner-ner-ner”-ing to his bass and completely disregarding everything else. He starts and stops, climbs in scales and descends again, leaps to higher octaves, and all of this done in such a fluid manner. This was all from a person who stated that he disliked playing the instrument.

But even trying to pay attention to the lyrics is kinda difficult enough. They’re hard to break down, which I don’t mind too much, though listeners might think about what Paul Banks is even trying to convey in this. The title doesn’t appear in its lyrics, but it’s understood to stand for ‘Public Display of Affection’. So there’s something about love, or the ending of it, in there somewhere, buried deep within. What I like about it most though, is the flat, deadpan delivery that only reaches a peak during the choruses. Even then, it’s not much. But it just works. Also, a big hand goes out to the amazing outro, which I didn’t get to hear that first time because the music video used the radio edit of the song.

#960: Interpol – NYC

Turn on the Bright Lights has always been considered to be Interpol’s best album. At least that’s the consensus I’ve witnessed from lurking around on various websites here and there. I’ve never been able to get into it as a whole. They have great, great songs. The band’s instrumentals can be out of this world sometimes. But in some cases it’s either the chosen melody, lyrics, or Paul Banks’ singing style that irks me. But when everything comes together, Interpol can produce some perfect moments. Case in point, today’s track ‘NYC’. Even then, it took me a while to really get into this one too. But one day – relatively recent – it appeared on my ‘Discover Weekly’ playlist on Spotify and it made sense then and there.

I’ve also gathered that ‘NYC’ is a personal highlight for many a fan from this album. At its time of release, the indifferent yet sincere dedication within the song’s lyrics to New York City after the 9/11 attacks struck a chord with a lot of listeners. Paul Banks likens the subway to a porno scene, and the pavements are a mess, but New York’s still the backdrop of his life and many others and will always be there for everybody no matter what goes down within.. More than 20 years on and as a guy from the UK, it’s very easy to feel a bit removed from that whole situation. I guess I’m more engaged with the music than with the lyrics. When those opening misty guitars set the tone, it’s hard to get some feelings inside. Banks’ lone vocal quivers in the foreground amidst a great drum pattern that repeats itself. Those drums sound great too, the tone of that ride cymbal is perfect. And with the first chorus, Carlos Dengler enters with a travelling bassline. The track is really one of those looking-out-the-window-on-the-train kind of tunes.

I think the moment that gets people goosebumps up is when Banks calls out the album title during the album’s last few choruses. I do agree, that’s a pretty sweet moment. A great way to close things out too. Maybe it comes a little too early in the album though, just an opinion of mine that I’ve thought of at this time of writing. ‘PDA’ comes right after this track. And while ‘NYC’ does tug at the heart a bit, ‘PDA’ kinda pushes it out the way and kinda sucks away at that climactic moment. If ‘NYC’ was, say, the penultimate song on the album, think it could have been even greater. But it is what it is. And what it is now, and always has been, is a beautiful track.

And that’s the end of the Ns. I’ll be right back.

My iPod #507: Interpol – The Heinrich Maneuver

“The Heinrich Maneuver” was the first single from Interpol’s third album Our Love to Admire, a work that was also their first to be released since moving to major record label Capitol Records. I remember really getting into the song itself when it started to circulate around the Internet in the early summer of 2007; I wasn’t the greatest fan of the band at the time, though I thoroughly enjoyed their songs via the music videos that aired on MTV2 and I was glad that their ‘comeback’ didn’t disappoint. The video for this one on the other hand… could have been a bit better.  It’s cleverly put together, though I would have liked to see the band in it.

Singer and guitarist Paul Banks gets the song off through singing its first line before being joined by a stop-starting guitar riff and drums. It isn’t long until all the members enter the frame, especially former bassist Carlos Dengler who once again executes yet another weaving and inventive bassline to keep everything together.

It is quite a dramatic track. No doubt the bigger-sounding production has something to do with that feeling, but the song’s overall atmosphere gives it that further kick. That spooky false ending, Banks’ energising vocal take (which I’m sure exhibits a range not shown on any of their previous singles), or those synthesized strings during the song’s climactic ending – those are just a few elements out of many which make “The Heinrich Manuever” one of Interpol’s most thrilling tracks in their catalogue.

My iPod #342: Interpol – Evil

 You know what I miss about Interpol? Carlos Dengler. You have to admit that man’s bass playing was so essential to Interpol’s sound, and the band have suffered just a tad since his departure. His melodic bass lines were perfect at establishing the tone of many tracks and the instrument itself was the one you most wanted to hear when listening to an Interpol track. “Evil” is a track where both those statements are very much true.

The first thing you hear when the song starts playing? Dengler on the bass. And though I wouldn’t say that memorable riff is evil, it definitely sets off a very moody and ominous atmosphere. No, I think the ‘evil’ is represented by the subject matter, the track may be about Rosemary Wet, the serial killer who tortures and killed teenage girls along with her husband Fred. Thinking about it now, the song may be from the perspective of the husband, dead after committing suicide before going on trial. But that’s just my suggestion.

“Evil” is a worrying track. And if you think listening to it’s bad, just look at the music video. I can’t remember when I first watched it but when I did I didn’t know whether to be scared, concerned or amused by the puppet. Its facial expressions are frightening at times, but its movements are pretty hilarious.