JORJ MORISSONI
Differentiate Or Die
ჯგუფი: Members
წერილები: 14223
წევრი No.: 13207
რეგისტრ.: 29-September 05
|
 #6044013 · 4 Jul 2007, 02:17 · · პროფილი · პირადი მიმოწერა · ჩატი
Interpol - Our Love To Admire (Capitol)
rockfeedback.com
Review
‘Pioneer To The Falls’ – This track almost struggles to begin, the haunting soulful guitars straddling along a Hotel Californian eerie line that incorporates the odd strewn piano tinkle until at last the vocals unravel. They’re as brilliant as ‘Bright Lights’ and ‘Antics’ but here sound more authoritative and endearing, without an obvious control, but nonetheless compelling. The usual Danny Elfman like surrealism is present and as the song transcends through whatever passes as an Interpol melody you breath a sigh of relief as this isn’t just any album opener, this is a hearty welcome to the Interpol show, a show that with a landing this grand is surely going to be hailed as their finest work. Interpol have always been a very clever and artistic band, but this song sounds rich even for them, more mature and definitely flushed with an expressive evolution.
‘No I In Threesome’ – The massively heavy bass lines that made songs like ‘Evil’ come alive open this tune that rolls into a collision of echoes that vocally sounds like a twisted Michael Stipe, but musically like the Arcade Fire inspirations they were, showing how constraint doesn’t necessarily relate to a more solemn hymn. The drums pound, thundering through a variety of strings that get more exciting with each plucking blow and hollowing around a voice that cries out for a chorus that inevitably never properly takes shape, as it shouldn’t with this band. Interpol don’t follow the lines of standard song writing and their body of work is testament to that very fact, all clashed with a thick, bold paintbrush that intricately tightens what could be a very fussy sound into a coherent bafflement of danceable dark-pop.
‘The Scale’ – This is the first song that breeds normality within the album, with a guitar that plays a rather mockingly ordinary riff, a riff that perhaps seeks irony going by the songs name. Just before the end of this though the guitars do something new, for no reason they turn all agitated and begin to fizz and fade from the background with confusion and conception, burning with an unpleasant but utterly enthralling charm. The vocals become a bit tedious here, sometime bogging down what’s already a blowing and seething taunt of distress, but celebrating the soberness that only this band, with maybe the exception of Editors, can achieve.
‘The Heinrich Maneuver’ - Contestably the first observable single from the album, though as we all know, Interpol are by no stretch of the imagination a singles band, the voice here sounding sharp, tactful and nomadically swinging into the almost cheery sounding melody that pushes into a real chorus. It pipes up in places, loudly asserting a confidence for making songs not just rich in critical acclaim but outright entertaining, as you don’t have to try and sink into their faux-dream, you just do. It’s easy to get carried away with music this attractive and complex, and a song like this helps it all untangle, fiercely and gratifyingly, moving the album into any trend it wants to take.
‘Mammoth’ – The ersatz ending to ‘Heinrich’ plays this song from the dusk of nowhere and runs straight into what’s the best vocals on the album with possibly the most exciting drumming and guitars both of which jump around the words of this, erm, mammoth song. It’s yet again fallen away from the simplistic verse, verse, chorus debris that would no doubt make Interpol appear to a bigger audience, but delightfully redefines the standards to which we must asses music, grippingly leading us through their poetry blindfolded, lacking even a clue as to where and when the song will eventually climax, if indeed it will. There’s a real sense of discovery and suspense to this song and as it mills, climbing to the height at which it finally takes its last stand, you’re spellbound by a bombardment of various digressions that somehow pull together when they need to and smash to pieces successively.
Pace Is The Trick’ – When you know that Interpol can layer and construct songs grander than almost anybody else around, you begin to become rapt by their brief moments of minimalism, such as on ‘Pace Is The Trick’. You believe that pace must indeed be the trick employed on this album as the guitars, wound closely, barely advance. In fact the entire album scarcely moves forward favouring a somewhat heart-monitor approach with intermittent and trustworthy peaks of stimulation, this song hosting some of the most theatrical, taunting a stunned monotone into acquiescence.
‘All Fired Up’ – Interpol have been accused of falling into repetition with albums and as such this song is maybe the most imperative on this increasingly unbelievable LP. The instantly recognisable backdrop to the band is there, but the riff is coarse, rewarding and striking, scraping an empathetic fumble of ropes into a sound that’s got cult vitality but with an MTV2 crowd following possibility. This is also a fairly ‘conformable’ sounding track with an instantly sociable value that despite a craggy and insistent verse is somehow swamping, soulful and ambitious in a confident way. It’s yet another of these bleeps on the heart monitor and a tuneful expression that shows Interpol aren’t just a complicated and picky outfit, using pretension and overbearing arrangements to factorise fans, they’re actually an undoubtedly awesome band capable of writing great rock songs, both wonderfully alternative yet strangely and boldly fashionable.
‘Rest My Chemistry’ – It’s funny that even the tracks titles on this album are interesting, and though you shouldn’t judge books by their covers, you can almost guess the feel of Interpol’s songs by the brash and engrossing names of their hymns, especially so on this song. The experimentation is yet again flushed through with a guitar that could have been adopted by The Pixies around their ‘Where Is My Mind’ era, this song adopting a similar fluidity that progresses so naturally its colourfully charming to hear. The central theme of the album creeps up again, a familiar twisted-love, anti-ballad stem that jaunts into areas of despairing atrocity, and while tying into the album the simple use of fading the song in and out, especially out, it has you making a double take and maybe for the first time you have to check that you’re still listening to the same band.
‘Who Do You Think’ – OK, so this song is entirely, unshakeably fantastic. Everything that works with Interpol, from the ferociously glorious vocal to concentrated and dynamic strings, is all at its best on this blinding anthem that confronts all angles of their sound and showcases them one after the other with polish and skirmishing gusto. It’s weirdly catchy and boasts a drum that kicks sh*t out of any other set of skins in rock music, outlandishly harassing Paul Banks’ exciting and dramatically on form oral staging. You can only imagine the magic that must have been felt in the studio when they were making this song and while it has the unfussiness of a song that could have been laid down in one take, still maintains the combating intricacy in arrangement that sketches immediate attraction to the work of Americas most inconceivable alternative band.
‘Wrecking Ball’ – Our punishment for being taken in by such observable magic are presented with this chastisement of a track, the mournful and forbidding voices of the band siren-ing throughout the verse and inclining into the barely-human twines of the chorus, the hostile valour of eking out even more sorrowfulness becoming overbearing. The sheer beauty of this track is authentication to this albums substance, its importance raining down like fire bolts of obviousness fitting the walkways of bands like Led Zeppelin and White Stripes, the unconformity in conception breathing new life into a scene that grows even more average by the day. (Gosh, Kaiser Chiefs are right!).
‘The Lighthouse’ – Again, the name already telling us half the story, this song being the last beckon of light before the onslaught of an endless sea engulfs the darkened emptiness of the albums close. It’s barren and sneering harmony tiptoeing behind Banks’ ultimate arousal and a return to the Tim Burton sense of surreal melancholy where the album started, and your life ended. There’s not much to this song, but the brilliance of it lies in this basic feat, the drilling alarm of the phasing guitar and barren vocal stretching out across the vacuum of nonbeing in a vein attempt of liberation. The whole album is crying for help, desperately asserting acceptance and trying to conceal its raw emotion, and in this final ballad the façade is lost, the power truly felt and the reason for Interpol to pick up their guitars once again realised.
Alex Lee Thomson - Written on 6/23/2007 11:44:00 AM
Rating * * * * *
This post has been edited by JORJ MORISSONI on 4 Jul 2007, 02:18
|
INTERPOL
