Release Date: Aug 24, 2018
Genre(s): Pop/Rock, Alternative/Indie Rock
Record label: Matador
Music Critic Score
How the Music Critic Score works
Buy Marauder from Amazon
As we get older, it is a sad fact that things lose tension. Muscles. Hair follicles. That which gives our principles their rigidity. Because time is both a healer and an able demonstrator that maybe, just maybe, the way that you thought was the only way to do the thing is in fact, not the only way ….
The NYC trio sixth album is a bold and artful evolution, though it's so claustrophobic you may long for a sense of release Interpol’s sixth album, 'Marauder', is adorned with an iconic photo of Attorney General Elliot Richardson. It’s 1973 and he’s in the midst of resigning, having refused President Nixon's orders to fire special prosecutor Archibald Cox, who was leading an investigation into the Watergate scandal. In black and white, Richardson sits alone in the centre - alienated yet content in this selfless and righteous act against corruption.
While they were making Marauder, Interpol were also touring to commemorate the 15th anniversary of their debut album, Turn on the Bright Lights, and having their salad days chronicled in Meet Me in the Bathroom, Lizzy Goodman's oral history of New York City's early-2000s rock revival. Frequently, these are the achievements of an act ready to rest on its laurels, but instead of viewing this point in their career as a plateau, Interpol use it as a springboard to push harder, and rock louder, than they have in some time. To that end, they worked with an outside producer for the first time since 2007's Our Love to Admire, enlisting Dave Fridmann to shape the album's sound.
Between heading out on a 15th anniversary tour for debut 'Turn On The Bright Lights' and featuring in 'Meet Me In The Bathroom', the book diving into the New York indie revolution of the early 2000s, it's safe to say Interpol have been looking back recently. Taking themselves back to the mindset of their heady early days on 'Marauder' serves them well - their sixth LP is a return to form that sees the trio overcome their mid-career slump. Daniel Kessler's tinny, reverberating guitars helm single 'The Rover' wonderfully, as distinctive as ever, while Sam Fogarino's work behind the kit is intricate and pummelling at once.
Their debut album was as good as it got. Sure, the next record was good - very good, in fact. You could make a case for the third album being better than the second... Hell, it's certainly better than anything that came after it. But the fact remains that Interpol have never made anything that ….
For their sixth studio album, Marauder, Interpol brought in an outside producer for the first time in over a decade. Dave Fridmann, best known for his work with Mercury Rev and the Flaming Lips, encouraged the New York trio to commit their music to analog tape by recording over each previous take in a process frontman Paul Banks has referred to as “destructive recording.” The result is an album with the urgent, organic feel of a live performance. Though Interpol's music has leaned more heavily on a guitar-driven sound since founding member and bassist Carlos Dengler left the band in 2010, the rhythm section still plays an integral role on Marauder.
Interpol are not a group this reviewer professes to know a great deal about. Beyond the signature tracks and seeing them support Coldplay at Crystal Palace back in 2005, I didn't hop on to the freight train that has become their fan base. Nonetheless, having several acquaintances very much on board has encouraged me to review their sixth long player, Marauder.
The Lowdown: For their sixth record, Marauder, Interpol brought in producer Dave Fridmann, an industry stalwart responsible for honing the sounds of artists such as MGMT, The Flaming Lips, and Mercury Rev. But these percussive acts have little in common with Interpol, and Fridmann's approach doesn't quite work on Marauder. The Good: Banks is still delivering his vocals in his classic slow, lingering way to remind everyone about his feelings.
More than any of their frenemies in the 2000s indie-rock tell-all Meet Me in the Bathroom, Interpol understood the power of a unified front. They've survived parting ways with the only guy in the band who clearly wanted to be a celebrity, a widely mocked dalliance with a major label, a rap mixtape by frontman Paul Banks called Everyone on My Dick Like They Supposed to Be that actually happened, and another Banks rap album on Warner Bros. that actually happened after that, mostly proving the adage that 80 percent of success is simply showing up.
It's been 16 years since Interpol turned the NYC music scene on its ear with their brooding and brilliant debut album Turn on the Bright Lights. Setting the bar very high very early can spell doom to some, but Interpol was able to parlay their early success into a meaningful career, mostly due to a unique ability to push their guitar-based rock in different directions while carving out an interesting and distinctive sound. For their sixth album, Marauder, the band enlisted the help of famed producer Dave Fridmann (Mercury Rev, The Flaming Lips, MGMT), who suggested to limit the studio treatments and aimed for a more angular and brawny sound.
Interpol were always the most elegant, the most seductive of New York indie's Class Of '01. At times impossible to decipher, their opening two records rank as some of the era's finest music, a gothic, sub- zero take on post-punk that flicked cigarette ash in the face of convention. The past decade, though, has found the group's confidence falter a little.
I don't know what it is about my love for Interpol that waned since 2002's Turn on the Bright Lights. That wasn't just a debut on the big stage, that was a record of intent. Vocalist Paul Banks proved what a modern Ian Curtis, a new-age Morrissey could look and sound like, especially at a time where they could flip the script on what bands like The Vines, The Hives and The Strokes were doing, and make indie rock truly theirs.
It's surprising that it took six albums for Interpol to release a song titled "Surveillance," but it finally arrives on "Marauder" (Matador). It's emblematic of an album that tries to respect the band's past while pushing beyond it with a danceable rhythm and a brighter than expected chorus. The trio, once part of the next-big-thing wave out of New York in the early 2000s that included the Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, made its mark with overcast songs that all suggested a scene from a noir movie in which the characters wore tailored suits, smoked cigarettes and sported discreet Joy Division tats.
is available now