One of the fun games to play at gigs is to try and make some all encompassing statement about the crowd, and to stereotype the type of person that likes a certain band. INTERPOL have transcended this, it would seem. You'd expect art-rockers and chin-scratchers? Lots of black clothing and plenty of moodiness. There was a little of that, but not a lot. It was neither a crowd of Guardian readers, nor a crowd of teeny-boppers. It's a strange status that Interpol hold – they're pretty big but no-one seems to have heard of them. Perhaps the ultimate position for a band to be in.
This tour has provided the band with their biggest UK dates so far, and they did well to avoid the trap that so many rising bands have taken in hot-footing it to the arena's. The Empress Ballroom is one of the finest venues in this country; acoustically it does something special to most great bands. Having seen storming sets from The White Stripes, The Strokes and Radiohead in recent years, hopes were high for this evening.
Interpol have always seemed to be an alright band. The first album was competent, the second album was great, but it was possible to forget about them. Had they split before this year, I would have been a little sad, but I would have got over it. Then 'Our Love To Admire' popped up this year, and blinded me how fantastic Interpol were at being Interpol. Suffice to say, it was time to review their back catalogue and somehow it's brilliant. They take this tour in the position of having plenty of songs to choose from, and being able to leave out some truly brilliant numbers. Virtually every song is stunning once they click with you – and once it does it's a very special feeling indeed. It all boded very well.
And not one iota of the performance disappointed these ridiculously high expectations. The gig had to open with album curtain-raiser 'Pioneer to the Falls.' When it reaches the point where all instruments fade and it's just that voice, the crowd are won over and a awe-inspiring set just has to ensue.
The biggest surprise is how jaunty the whole thing feels. 'Slow Hands' is a pure stomper, and there are many uplifting moments in the set which is definitely bouncier than it is melancholic. This is down to solid drumming and the good use of simple ideas. There's no fancy noodling – just strong, very tight playing. Together, it's a haunting, stark sound, but delivered in such a way that it wouldn't be inappropriate to leap around like a twat. And those near the front do just that – and they need to be applauded as well. Carlos D is under-stated in terms of showmanship, helpfully playing down the needless music press blathering that has detracted from the music a little this year. There are the slow ones as well – which are there to move you in and amongst all of the excitement.
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They're not a band that have deviated from their sound over the years, but they've somehow developed it, and the songs from all three albums fit together seamlessly. It's touching, it's exciting, and it bores down into the darkest depths. The lyrics are beautiful and Daniel Kessler is the perfect frontman; a voice that probably made all of Blackpool's hairs collectively stand on end. The interpretations of the songs are faithful to the album versions, but seeing it all live is quite simply mind-blowing; it's louder, bolder, tighter, and much more heartfelt. It's desperately intimate, considering the thousands that are in the room.
Generally speaking there is something that places Interpol well above their peers and removes the Joy Division copyists tag as effectively as Muse have shaken off those Radiohead accusations. The song structure is relatively unique – the verses sound like bridges, the bridges sound like choruses and the choruses sound like something else entirely. 'Evil' is the exemplar of this, which was mesmerising to say the last. Especially when followed up with a note perfect rendition of recent single 'The Heinrich Manoeuvre.' To end the main set with 'Not Even Jail' is a stroke of genius. And then when you think it's all over, 'Stella was a diver...' is pulled out in the encore.
It's moody, yes, but you can also party. Pray that Interpol never get bigger than this, but if the arena's do beckon, there are few bands better equipped. Hail Interpol, who have developed from Strokes also-rans into one of the best bands in the world today. I just wish I could do it all over again tonight.
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