14 Days of Influences: Day 10

I don\’t think we talk enough about how great the early aughts were for music, especially indie rock.

I mean, think about it — The Strokes, The Libertines, Arctic Monkeys, The Walkmen, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Thermals, etc. etc. — all put their first albums out there in the early 2000s. It was just an explosion of really good indie rock, despite the fact that boy bands were ruling the charts at the time.

Interpol\’s first album, \”Turn on the Bright Lights\” is, in my opinion, one of the shining moments of this era, and it\’s an album I honestly can\’t get enough of.

If you\’ve read about Interpol, you may hear them (favorably or horribly) compared to Joy Division. And to be sure, lead singer Paul Banks\’ disaffected baritone is eerily similar to Ian Curtis. But honestly, I think that\’s where the apples-to-apples comparisons have to end.

Don\’t get me wrong, like Joy Division, \”Turn on the Bright Lights\” veers towards darker soundscapes. There\’s an overarching melancholy running through the album, nowhere more poignant than on \”NYC,\” a ruminating, sad sort of love letter to the city.

But even with the dark overtones, this album rocks in a way that Joy Division doesn\’t.

With \”Turn on the Bright Lights\” and its follow-up, \”Antics,\” Interpol had one of the most underrated rhythm sections in indie rock. Banks and lead guitarist Daniel Kessler strum out alternating staccato, dissonant, sometimes shimmering guitar licks while bassist Carlos D finds these intricate countermelodic bass lines. Among these sometimes repetitive grooves, drummer Sam Fogarino finds a way to make them feel funky, even danceable.

\”PDA,\” \”Obstacle 1\” and \”Roland\” are all pulsating rockers that show Interpol can be loud and aggressive without losing their emotional core, and contemplative, slow-building overtures like \”Hands Away,\” \”The New\” and \”Leif Erickson\” show their impressive dynamic range.

\”Turn on the Bright Lights\” is a rock album with drama…for those lovesick, forlorn rockers who steal away to their rooms, write poetry, and then crank up their amps to 11.

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