Interpol

I love records, and maybe we operate in an age where it’s more about the song or the mp3 as people say, but to me it’s always been about records: records that make you listen from start to finish and really enjoy everything in between.

story by David Wicik

Interpol is a band that needs no introduction. But for all those Martian cave-dwellers recently arrived to Earth, Interpol is a New York trio (having recently parted with long-time bassist Carlos Dengler) which came to prominence in the New York post-punk resurgence of the early 2000s. Their debut album, 2002’s Turn On The Bright Lights made the group a household name and snagged Pitchfork’s nod as “album of the year”. Their fourth studio album, Interpol, released last year on Matador, finds the group continuing to refine their craft without Carlos D on bass. Guitarist Daniel Kessler, who first brought Interpol together in 1997, took time out of his current tour to speak with Chicago Innerview.

Chicago Innerview: Interpol has often referred to itself in interviews as an ‘albums’ band. What does that mean to you?
Daniel Kessler: It’s not even that we’re known as that, it’s just what’s meaningful to me. I love records, and maybe we operate in an age where it’s more about the song or the mp3 as people say, but to me it’s always been about records: records that make you listen from start to finish and really enjoy everything in between. And if you go to one of our shows, chances are that the people there all have different songs that they want to hear. It’s not just, let’s say, the singles and so forth. That’s very meaningful to me.

Chicago Innerview: Why did you decide to make this, your fourth studio album, a self-titled album given that bands usually do this on their first, or even second album?
Daniel Kessler: We felt like in this record every single song says a lot and the whole album has a lot to say. It’s quite demanding on the listener in the sense that you have to really pay attention to all the details and we don’t really need to add more to it. So we felt that since this was a very completed record, it should just speak for itself.

CI: How have you moved in new directions on this album?
DK: On this record we went right from the songs originating on my guitar or a piano to working with orchestrations and keyboards before working with drums, bass or other guitars and vocals. On the first two records, keyboards and orchestration would always happen at the end, and they would always be more final touches and very small textures of the record. This time they actually became primary role-players in determining which way the songs would flesh out and how much room there would be for other instruments. And consequently, I think that informs us to not actually fill the songs. There are moments when the drums are very, very sparse on this record — they’re hardly doing anything at times. I think that it takes a bit of experience to get to that stage where you’re not trying to fill up the whole song by saying too much.

CI: I really loved the song ‘Lights.’ Could you tell me a little bit about its genesis?
DK: It originated with my guitar line. Carlos and I had gotten together at my apartment, I was living in a very lofty apartment with a great sense of sound atmosphere in it, really reverb-y, and I think that had a strong influence on the song’s direction. And I wanted to make it sound a little like film noir and a little, not spaghetti Western-ish, but a little desolate as far as the guitar tone, and then to build on that. It was one of the songs that came together quite organically once we came into the rehearsal space to work on it.

Interpol :: with School of Seven Bells :: Riviera :: February 12.

Interpol, Muse, Patti Smith, Spoon

INTERPOL
Music criticism sometimes works in a vacuum. One critic says “Interpol sounds like Joy Division” and then, all of a sudden, everybody who has anything to say about Interpol makes note of Joy Division. It’s unfortunate, really, because Interpol is so much more than that. Interpol, for instance, is climactic in a way that Joy Division never was. Its songs tend to build on top of themselves, until the singing and guitars and cymbal crashes create a mountain range of sound. The song peaks, singer Paul Banks yells something (like “Stella!” for instance) and then everything tumbles down and starts over. Most songs feel like they could fill the Chicago Theatre, which, in fact, wouldn’t be a bad venue. Interpol’s sound is big and theatrical where Joy Division’s was stark and bare; Paul Banks’ vocals are seductive where Ian Curtis’ were gloomy. Interpol sounds like Joy Division? Don’t buy it. Instead, buy their new poppier major label debut, Our Love to Admire. You’ll be able to tell the difference. (Saturday, 8:30-10:00, Bud Light Stage) –text: Mark Byrne–photo: Jelle Wagenaar

MUSE
Having outgrown the image of the world’s best unintentional Radiohead cover band, Muse has matured into one of Britain’s most recognizable and forward-thinking outfits. Whereas the 3-piece’s early material adhered to the conventions of sweeping Brit pop, 2003’s Absolution featured songs that embraced both prog rock and electronic elements alongside those traditionally artful guitar parts. With Matthew Bellamy’s nasally scruff becoming less Yorke-like with each subsequent performance, 2006’s Black Holes and Revelations netted the band every accolade from its first Mercury Prize nomination to taking home multiple “Best Live Act” trophies (Q Awards, Kerrang! Awards, U.K. Festival Awards, Brit Awards) and the “Best British Band” title (NME Awards). As recently as last month, Bellamy has dropped less-than-subtle confirmation that he and his bandmates have begun work on the group’s fifth LP, though their live sets have yet to feature any of the new “dance-y” material. (Saturday, 8:30-10:00, AT&T Stage) –text: Derek Wright–photo: Perou

PATTI SMITH
New York punk legends Joey and Dee Dee Ramone, Johnny Thunders and Stiv Bators all didn’t make it to age 60. So the fact that CBGB first-waver Patti Smith will take the Lollapalooza stage just south of her 61th birthday is a feat unprecedented by many of her esteemed East Village peers. In a homecoming of sorts — she was born in Chicago before moving out East as a young child — Smith’s performance at this year’s fest will be the commercial cap to a career that reached its critical pique with her induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in March. And in support of her 2007 release Twelve, the aging poet has done just about everything (and according to rumours everyone) worth doing over the course of her 3-decade career. Which is good, because if history can tell us anything, it’s that 1970s scenesters aren’t long for this world. (Saturday, 7:30-8:30, Adidas Stage) –text: Derek Wright

SPOON
Spoon is one of a handful of contemporary artists for whom no real peers exist. Other examples might include Wilco, Radiohead, and the White Stripes — artists who have created such a unique sound and presence on the landscape of modern pop music that they can no longer be compared to other bands. All one can do is judge each Spoon record or live performance against the previous ones, like the judge in a dog show can only assess each dog by its breed standard and not against the other dogs. On their new Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, Spoon isn’t exploring any new territory per se, but the result is still plenty of evidence that this is one of the most influential and consistently high-caliber working bands today. Expect Britt Daniel and company to once again carry the burden of expectation into Lollapalooza, but expect them to carry it as comfortably as ever. (Saturday, 7:30-8:30, MySpace Stage) –text: Lizz Kannenberg–photo: Autumn de Wilde

Interpol

I look back on [our first tour] and it’s very romantic. We had no expectations of what was going to happen. We were all packed in a van and wore the same clothes for a week straight and then all of the sudden you just kind of end up at this higher level. We still go at it with the same mindset – it’s just our clothes are cleaner.

story by Sharyn Goldyn
photo by Pieter M. Van Hattem

Interpol knows how to keep a secret — and they have a very big one waiting to come out. It’s been three years since Interpol delivered their critically acclaimed sophomore album Antics on indie mainstay Matador Records and with their long-awaited new LP Our Love To Admire coming out this summer on Capitol Records, the band is keeping their lips firmly sealed about what to expect from their debut major-label offering.

“I’d rather wait and have the record speak for itself,” Interpol’s longtime drummer Sam Fogarino told a curious Chicago Innerview. “We don’t want to give it all away yet. We live in a day and age where everything happens so quickly. We did our first shows for the pre-release in Canada and immediately the new material was thrown up on YouTube — which is good, but when you put in many months of blood and sweat and people get their first glance of it recorded with the lowest fidelity on YouTube, it’s a little disheartening. We want people to hear how it’s meant to be heard.”

The band did recently announce the album cover art and track listings and their first single is spreading around the Internet, but Fogarino was pretty vague about what to expect. Instead, he gave the dirt on the creative process behind the album and why it took over a year to write and record.

“The first two albums were one constant movement, one record smearing into another,” he said. “There was absolutely no pressure when we were writing this album — the whole process from writing to recording was so exciting. There is the feeling of reaching the higher plane this time around.”

One of the biggest challenges for the band this time around was making the new material as fresh as possible while still maintaining that signature Interpol sound. “We knew we had to push the envelope, but you can’t do it forcefully,” explained Fogarino. “It is a major challenge to push yourself artistically but have it happen organically at the same time so it doesn’t sound forced. I think the minute that it becomes too easy, this band will cease to exist. We are the same guys playing the same instruments, but we are pushing boundaries. There is an expansion to the sound, but it still sounds like Interpol to me.”

Another sign of growth for the band (in addition to the new facial hair now being sported by bassist Carlos D) is their jump from Matador to Capitol for the July 10 release of Our Love to Admire. “It seemed like a logical conversion,” Fogarino explained. “They have known us for years and we had friends who had come and gone through the years at the label. For Interpol, this album is exactly the album we would have made whether it were a smaller label or not.”

It’s been a long steady climb for these dour, well-groomed NYC rockers since they first signed to Matador in 2002 after sending in a demo which reportedly flipped the minds of label co-owners Chris Lombardi and Gerald Cosloy. “Chris Lombardi was actually in Germany driving on the Autobahn really fast and he was listening to it and decided he wanted to sign the band,” Fogarino recalled.

Matador released the well-received debut album Turn On The Bright Lights and the band immediately found a rabid fan base and started touring. “Early Interpol shows were a thrill,” Fogarino said. “I recently saw some old, old pictures from our first tour when Bright Lights first came out. We all look like babies, there was such a naivete. I look back on it and it’s very romantic. We had no expectations of what was going to happen. We were all packed in a van and wore the same clothes for a week straight and then all of the sudden you just kind of end up at this higher level. We still go at it with the same mindset — it’s just our clothes are cleaner.”

Cleaner clothes aren’t the only things that have changed. “We played two nights at Radio City Music Hall, that’s something that if the band ended tomorrow it would still put a smile on my face,” Fogarino recalls. They were also invited on tour with The Cure for a month-long tour in 2004.

“I’ve met a lot of people who were musical heroes who have now become friends. I learned a lot from Robert Smith. Being accepted by someone like Robert Smith interjected a little more confidence in what we do. It was a little sense of arrival. He’s just the sweetest man you could ever meet but at the same time he is a total eccentric. It’s really him — that smeared lipstick isn’t a gimmick,” Fogarino said laughing. He then added, rather seriously, that you can’t let those good moments hold you down. “You don’t want to stop and smell the flowers for too long, you want to keep it going.”

Keeping things going is something they seem quite capable of. Interpol may be experiencing worldwide success and touring and writing music non-stop, but they seem to have settled into their 3-piece suits gracefully.

“Tour so far is pretty mellow; I try to keep a low profile,” Fogarino said. “I just focus on the 75 minutes I play on stage. To me, the party is kind of over. You have to expect the unexpected but I don’t facilitate that happening. But I always get in trouble in Chicago — a lot of my friends are there. I lived in Ukrainian Village for six months 11 years ago working for a record distributor.”

Fogarino has high regards for Chicago, saying he would love to play a residency here if he could. As for their upcoming sold-out Metro show this month (their first appearance in the city in nearly three years), fans can expect three to four new songs and mostly songs from the earlier albums.

Those unable to find tickets to the Metro show will get another chance this summer, when Interpol will be returning as one of the headlining acts of this year’s Lollapalooza. “I remember way back when Ministry and Lush were playing Lollapalooza and I really wanted to go. I have never been to a Lollapalooza,” Fogarino said. One can only hope that Interpol will unveil more new material at Fogarino’s first Lolla — including the cleverly-titled tracks “Heinrech Maneuver” and “No I In Threesome.”

Until then, we’ll just have to keep the secret.

Interpol :: Metro :: June 3.

Interpol

Every song has a really strong identity. They’re designed to have a certain pull, not just there filling space. The song has a greater meaning…When I was young, I put on music to be transformed. We want to leave listeners with an experience.

story by Jay Gentile
photo by Pieter M. Van Hattem

Interpol is the radio/telegraph signal for the International Criminal Police Organization, the 81-year-old France-based agency that chases drug runners, prostitution rings, terrorists, financial charlatans and slave traders throughout its 181-country member network. It is also the namesake of the internationally-flavored, stylish, and dour New York-based rockers who are currently ushering in a second wave of intercontinental media frenzy over the long-anticipated follow up to their stunning 2002 debut, Turn on the Bright Lights, on Matador Records.

Turn on the Bright Lights turned out to be one of the biggest selling albums in Matador’s history, reaching number five on Billboard’s “Top Independent Albums” tally and selling a steady 289,000 copies in the U.S., according to Nielsen SoundScan. And with the late September release of Antics, arguably the most anticipated indie album in one of the best years for independent music in a long time, the media spotlight is growing ever brighter.

Yet darkness is a much more common association with the music created by these four mysterious men in dark suits. They have been criticized for a sometimes droning, monotonous and some would say depressing sound, but as Chicago Innerview learned in a recent conversation with Interpol guitarist and founding father Daniel Kessler, a lot of this has to do with the mood of the listener.

For example, the first time I got a chance to listen to the new record, it was a Monday. It was dark, dreary, pouring rain and on top of that, I was driving through a seedy Chicago neighborhood late at night. “Perfect time to listen to Interpol,” I thought to myself, recollecting how I had listened to Turn on the Bright Lights for basically the entire duration of the bleak Chicago winter.

But then a weird thing happened. The next day was beautiful and sunny, and I was cruising through a nice neighborhood with the sunroof down. I was still listening to Interpol, only this time, the music actually made me feel…good, happy, at peace. How could this be? Isn’t this music supposed to serve as a soundtrack to depression?

“Sometimes people think of us as melancholy and cold,” Kessler explained over a clear, static-free line from Berlin, where Interpol was in the midst of a pre-release mini-tour of Europe before invading the U.S. and Canada this month. “There is a feeling there, but it’s up to the listener. It depends on what’s going on chemically in your mind. Just because you’re feeling something, doesn’t mean it’s sad.”

Yet the story of Interpol is one born out of sadness or, more specifically, Kessler’s dissatisfaction with his life at the time. The England native (who moved to France at age six and to the U.S. at 11) was depressed in high school and found peace through music. By the time he enrolled in college at NYU, was determined to start a band for the sake of his sanity.

“I knew I had to try this, otherwise I’d be pretty miserable,” Kessler said. So one day he approached a man who would later become the most recognizable member of Interpol, bassist Carlos D., who appeared intelligent to Kessler. He would later cross paths with vocalist Paul Banks, another British expat he had known from an exchange program in France. The lineup was complete when Kessler recruited drummer Sam Fogarino, who worked in a Brooklyn record store frequented by Kessler, to replace original Interpol drummer Greg Drudy in 2000.

The result, according to Details magazine, was “a bastard’s brew of British expats, an Italian Catholic from Pennsylvania, and a gothy German of Ecuadorian descent” sporting a “retro-bleak aesthetic” playing “old-school angular Brit-rock like the Smiths, the Cure and Joy Division” around New York clubs like the Mercury Lounge – while “dressed as morticians.” They were initially compared to the Strokes, but those appearance-based comparisons began to dissipate as people began focusing on Interpol’s heavier, more powerful and emotionally substantive sound.

Making music that means something to people is a task that Kessler and Interpol take very seriously. Perhaps this is one reason for their success, and their emphasis on the emotive quality of the music rather than the lyrics is perhaps what makes them so well adored on the global scene. “There’s things in our songs that are beyond culture,” said Kessler. “They’re engaging on an emotional level, it’s beyond words. It’s not gratuitous…Every song has a really strong identity. They’re designed to have a certain pull, not just there filling space. The song has a greater meaning…When I was young, I put on music to be transformed. We want to leave listeners with an experience.”

With Antics, that experience is noticeably less bleak and dour, which gives the band a broader sound but also causes it to lose some of the deep emotional impact so omnipresent on Turn on the Bright Lights. The stellar opener, “Next Exit”, is an example of a welcome new sound for Interpol that jives well with their style, but some tunes like “C’mere” and “Slow Hands” seem too poppy and a bit awkward. Yet overall, the solid album is more a gradual refinement of the signature Interpol sound than a major strategic departure.

“The production is a little bit brighter, the songs a bit more textured, there are more keyboards,” said Kessler, who traditionally starts the songwriting process by laying out a melody or a bridge and letting Carlos D. and Sam run with it musically. The end result is then typically shifted over to Banks, who is responsible for much of the lyrics.

Banks once said he was “resolved I would die in a gutter” during the “real misery” he suffered through the making of Turn on the Bright Lights. When asked if the more hopeful tone of Antics reflects a happier band, Kessler refused to speculate on the motives behind Banks’ lyrics, calling the lyrics and the music “pretty complex” creations that could not have possibly stemmed from just one particular emotion or experience.

Fair enough. Life is complex. And it’s refreshing to see artists who outwardly appear as image-conscious as Interpol care so deeply about the inner meaning and feel of their music. They are also one of few bands who are able to artfully extract beauty from bleakness in such a powerful way, uplifting listeners in the process. So as long as Interpol is in charge, bring on the police state.

Interpol :: with Secret Machines :: Riviera :: October 17.