A score of post-emo combos have worked Birthday Party/Joy
Division/Fall influences into snappy tunes that get hysterical all
over, keeping things stumbling and staccato with an eyelinered eye
cast on getting the kids up and at it on the dance floor. The Faint
and The Rapture, choice heads of such a musical spirit, have livened
up their takes on such neo-new-wave-ism by reaching further back and
dialing up the spirit of disco-punk — a sure way to get
'the ladies and the fags,' and a few fashion-pony boys, out to strut it
on the floor. But fewer folk have explored new-wave sounds as a means
for getting regal and romantic, making make-out music from
turn-of-the-'80s pop under the pall of goth overtones. New York City
boy-rock quartet Interpol, perhaps by being largely disconnected from
such a punk-related/grassroots movement, have had no trouble
cultivating the more anthemic end of new-wave-ism in their throwback
craft. They take a different tack from most neo-new-wavers with their
own take on such strung-out sound, getting suitably stadium-sized as
they bring in echoes of Echo & the Bunnymen and, even, The Cure,
dabbling with high-wire guitar harmonies and a nascent sense of
romanticism. It's that romanticism — a romance that extends to
both the music they love and the music that they make — that
colors their craft, bringing in a rainbow of emotional shades even as
the tone and tunes and artwork trick the band out in nothing but
black. While Joy Division are obviously a massive influence on
Interpol — just listen to the cut "Roland" — the combo
never seem like JD wannabes because they never let themselves get
caught up in such darkness. They are, conversely, at their best when
they free themselves from thematic/tonal/color-chart bleakness and
taught musical tightness; close-to-freewheeling, heart-swelling
moments like "Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down" and "Leif
Erikson" are the best things on their pretty-impressive debut album.
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