‘The Interpol’ wouldn’t have really worked, would it? Two years ago it was that lack of the definite article that made the band stand out as that little bit different, in a sea of unimaginative and bellow par chancers they appeared to have some mystery about them. Of course, since then the band have sold 300,000+ records in America, saved innumerable lives of teenagers who might have otherwise lived in ignorance of such gloom rock and generally become an unexpected hot property. Meanwhile, their contemporaries have made iffy second albums, then embarrassments of themselves and then quiet exits back to where they came from. So here we are with the last survivors of the period. Interpol were always the anomalies, the outsiders and, most crucially, the thinkers. Whilst you imagined The Hives wore their suits for the attention and that off duty they would be much more at home in shell suits, you always suspected that Interpol wore the dark suits because anything else would have been blasphemous in the face of their music. You simply wouldn’t have caught Interpol writhing around on the floor drunk off their faces or charging into amps with their instruments. But all of those right moves would have been worth nothing without the dark, haunting and spectacular music that was encapsulated on their dazzling debut ‘Turn On the Bright Lights’.

So, two years on we are rewarded for our patience with ‘Antics’. If you want another ‘PDA’ or ‘Say Hello to the Angels’ then, with the exception of the single, ‘Slow Hands’, you will be left disappointed for this is not ‘TOTBL2’. No, ‘Antics’ is a progression: the sound of a band exploring their collective ability, pushing their perceived boundaries and growing out of their influences and becoming one themselves. Whilst there is more melody on this album and slightly more colour it would be still be folly to claim that it’s accessible and mainstream friendly, ‘Antics’ is a record which takes listens to unravel itself and make all of its wonderful nuances known to you. The record is literally covered in twinkling pieces of brilliance: floating backing vocals that drift, and nearly lose themselves, in the mix, or tiny riffs that will pass you by unless you’re careful.

It is the sound of an epic and often experimental soundscape underpinned by the omnipresent bass of Carlos D’s and the otherworldly vocals of Paul Banks, with the occasional (and brilliant) stabs of guitar from Daniel Kessler. Throughout there is an inescapable air of paranoia, loss, complexities, alienation, death, life, love and hate which permeates everything. The album lies in two distinct halves; with the first being the more casual listener friendly.

It begins with the ‘Sultans of Swing’-esque organ chords of ‘Next Exit’ which really couldn’t sound less like Interpol and more like a life affirming U2 number sang by a manic-depressive if it tried. It flows through the first half taking in the almost funky bassline of ‘Evil’, the rippling masterpiece that is ‘NARC’ which showcases the many levels of Banks’ voice and ‘Take You On a Cruise’ (arguably the best track the band have ever done) which manages to be gentle, epic, perfectly weighted and articulates more existential angst than you would wish on your worst enemy. ‘Slow Hands’ separates the two halves with its Muse style riff and vicious chorus. The second half is very much denser and more introverted; beginning with ‘Not Even Jail’ which is a winding personification of glacial splendour, taking in the shredding guitars that punctuate the end of ‘Public Pervert’ and the helplessly paranoid and dark tone of ‘The Length of Love’, before ending on the darker than space and melodic black hole that is the second rate ‘A Time to be So Small’.

Whilst the album isn’t perfect (the lyrics, for one - although, whoever is the object of Banks’ affections should rest assured that is things go ‘awry’ he ‘will start painting houses’, according to ‘Not Even Jail’), it is still a remarkable effort. ‘Antics’ sees no Joy Division riff nicking or poor Ian Curtis impressions. What it does see is a band who are not just the only act to emerge from the glut of ‘The’ bands with any credibility and imagination, but it also sees a band establishing themselves as America’s best and most important band. It is an extraordinary snapshot of a band only just beginning (hopefully) to realise the full length and breadth of their powers and just how necessary they are.

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