Review Summary: The old dogs learn a few new tricks.
Growing up, there was this alternative rock station that I absolutely loved, shoutout 102.1 for those in the Milwaukee area. They would play your classic 90s alternative hits from Green Day, The Smashing Pumpkins, Jimmy Eat World, Rage Against the Machine, Weezer, as well as more modern bands of the same ilk. They would combine this with the absolutely exploding indie pop wave of the early to mid-2010s. It was a great station that really shaped a lot of my early taste in music and got me hooked on so many fantastic bands. One day, they played something that was a bit outside their wheelhouse, and I was instantly captivated. It was melancholic, atmospheric, groovy, catchy as hell, and packed with stark melodies and a deep, distinctive vocal style that I hadn’t come across yet in my musical journey. That song, if you couldn’t guess already, was of course “All the Rage Back Home.” I couldn’t get enough of it and needed to know more about this band called Interpol.
I quickly learned this wasn’t some small indie band or up-and-comer. They had released what is widely regarded as a true classic of the 2000s indie wave in
Turn on the Bright Lights. I turned it on and was completely blown away. It was love at first listen. It’s rare to have those instant, transcendent experiences, but
Turn on the Bright Lights was one of the most noteworthy in my life. If I had a gun to my head and had to pick my favorite album of all time, that would probably be the choice. Right away, Interpol became one of my favorite bands, and the release of
El Pintor further cemented that.
I take quite the issue with those who write off Interpol as some one-album wonder. Sure, they haven’t been remarkably consistent, but how do you live up to the hype of one of the greatest albums of all time? They were always somewhat unfairly held to those impossibly high standards. Even though
Antics and
Our Love to Admire are fantastic albums in their own right, they still don’t really get the proper respect they deserve, especially the latter. The self-titled was one that, while I enjoy it, I get the cold reception it gets from many.
El Pintor, though, was the band firing on all cylinders, even with the major loss of their iconic bassist, Carlos Dengler. They added a hefty amount of dream pop and shoegaze influence that complemented their somber sound to perfection and created an atmosphere that is right up there with their debut.
The two albums since, though, I can’t deny that Interpol were definitely in a bit of a lull.
Marauder is a good enough album, but I started feeling some diminishing returns, and the band just felt too comfortable in their dour, sleepy post-punk zone. It didn’t help that the production was oddly noisy and muddled, which really didn’t serve their sound at all.
The Other Side of Make-Believe, while a little more adventurous and not bad, was pretty one-note and honestly just dull, which is something I have never said about another Interpol album. I suppose you can partially chalk this up to the pandemic, during which the album’s writing began through email correspondence. Still, the band felt like they had just run out of steam and were coasting on autopilot. It felt as if they had settled into their forever sound and would put out decent, but not remarkable, albums for the rest of their career.
The title track, which opens
This Mirror Weighs a Ton, is their mission statement for the entire album. Interpol is back, and also, this ain’t your daddy’s Interpol. It’s a much softer track that is so damn smooth and positively ethereal. The delicately plucked guitar strings are put in tandem with pulsating, trip-hop-inspired electronics and some angelic female backing vocals that give the song that next-level boost. Paul Banks has seemingly regained his form that was somewhat lacking in the last two albums, sounding a lot fuller than he has in years. Here, he is much more gentle, singing in a higher-pitched, sing-songy delivery for much of the song before unleashing his baritone beauty in the wonderfully executed crescendo in the back half. It’s an absolutely gorgeous track that makes you feel like you are at utter peace, drifting in and out of consciousness. The more I listen to it, the more I like it, and it will undoubtedly go down as one of the band’s crowning achievements sonically. Who knew they had something like this in their bag? I don’t think this is what anyone was expecting. This is a band that has awoken from its slumber and is utterly rejuvenated, like a bear after hibernation.
It’s not like Interpol hasn’t experimented or played around with different genres before, but this is another beast entirely. It is jam-packed with interesting instruments and sounds that are put together with their classic downbeat post-punk jangle. There are strings, flutes, bongos, brass, xylophones, acoustic guitar, female backing vocals, piano, and a strong electronic undercurrent that bleeds throughout the album. Another welcome change is that Banks has stepped down from studio bass and long-time touring member Brad Truax steps in full-time, delivering some of their tastiest, juicy basslines in a long time. The album even has two piano-driven ballads in “Enemy” and the closer, “Sudden.” The former features Banks’ wife, Juliet Seger, on backing vocals and is a stripped-back beauty of a song. “So Rides the Reindeer” is another one of their more experimental, boundary-pushing tracks that is doing a lot and really works nicely. To use the word again, it’s incredibly smooth and relaxed, with an acoustic guitar doing most of the driving here, but it is layered with electronics, breezy guitar melodies, and a bit of clapping. It’s an almost cacophonous and overwhelming combination of sounds, but somehow comes together into something tranquil. The album as a whole is pleasantly chilled out and peaceful in a way that lets you just let it wash over you. If their earlier work was a more modern take on Joy Division, this is their take on New Order.
If you’re looking for some throwback, anthemic Interpol bangers, don’t worry, there’s a few here for your choosing. “See Out Loud” is a song that really harkens back to
Antics and even sees guitarist Daniel Kessler on a verse, sounding like a nasally indie rocker that provides fantastic contrast to Banks’ sultry baritone delivery. The song is upbeat, jangly, fun, and has an absolutely massive, lengthy hook that Banks crushes. His voice is one of my favorites in music, and it’s pure joy to hear him back at the top of his game. He has such an unmistakable swagger and aura to him. It’s utterly effortless, and his lyrics are always a fantastic read. They are at times specific, at times abstract, and often very personal all at the same time in a way that only he can do it. He has such an interesting and unique way of writing, with odd metaphors and ambiguous language that is so captivating. There is so much meaning to be found in them if you are willing to put the puzzle together yourself. “Wings on Fire” is another melodic, upbeat track with a danceable, propulsive guitar riff that carries the song and injects a lot of energy into the tracklist. My personal favorite has to be the penultimate song, “Bird and the Serpent,” which feels like the perfect blend of the Interpol of old and the Interpol of new. It takes its time building, has an epic hook that Banks belts out loudly with that aforementioned swagger on full display, and has those classic, careening post-rock melodies. That is why I listen to Interpol. It expertly weaves in their newfound electronic influence, which gives the song so much forward momentum and takes center stage in the tranquil outro, complete with flutes. This is a song that could’ve easily fit on one of their classic albums, more specifically
Our Love to Admire.
This Mirror Weighs a Ton has that unmistakable Interpol DNA with Banks leading the charge, but honestly, this is an album that I never expected them to make. It’s not completely out there, but the structure and instrumentation are so energized and refreshing after I thought the band was sort of done evolving. I couldn’t be happier to have been wrong. As much as I really do enjoy this more experimental, softer, atmospheric direction, I can’t help but find myself craving just a touch more of that classic, shout-out-loud Interpol, with their trademark gargantuan melodies that sound like they are coming down from the heavens. I honestly feel that I need more time with the album to fully and properly digest it because it is such a relative left turn. This is an album that I could see myself enjoying even more in the future and aging very well, but for now, it’s a reinvention that Interpol desperately needed and hopefully kicks off another golden age for the band.
