Post-punk legends Interpol are back to tell us a wild story with their sixth studio album Marauder (out on Matador, August 24th), produced by Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, Weezer, MGMT), and recorded at Tarbox Road Studios.
The band came up in New York City during the early millennium indie-rock wave that left a mark on the music world. It was an era that had many bands permanently attached to the city. Like grunge and Seattle, the music is forever intertwined with a mark on a map. The band is part of something greater, a physical space, and a larger narrative (See Lizzy Goodman’s book “Meet Me in The Bathroom” about NYC’s music scene).
This album is just like any big city, with very different elements coming together to make a whole as they interlock and rely on each other. It offers what feels like endless layers of sonic substance on just thirteen tracks, which is an accomplishment. That being said, it doesn’t stray far from the post-punk parent genres, giving us a gothic feel reminiscent of Joy Division and The Cure.
Video: Interpol – The Rover
It is a concept album that pulls bits and pieces from the life of lead singer Paul Banks. Marauder is an alter ego for Banks, a man who lives his life carelessly like a social bandit, and “does crazy shit.” And like any alter-ego, the personality comes in and out, and always leaves an imprint of chaos behind. This persona really shows its face on the song Stay in Touch as its existence is repeated in the lyrics, “Marauder chained of no real code/Marauder breaks bonds/Marauder stays long.”
The entire album has a feeling of anticipation, like something is about to go down. Sam Fogarino adds drum funk and spirit on all of the tracks, especially If You Really Love Nothing. The intro on Number 10 carries Daniel Kessler’s escalating and upbeat riffs until the rest of the band abruptly fills in with the story of a romance. Their single, The Rover, has an etherial chorus that seems to act as the singer’s very own out-of-body experience.
Marauder is a cathartic release of memories laid to rest on an album, only to be revived when we press play.
