Interpol / Friendly Fires

So, Interpol. Happy band aren’t they? There’s nothing like the sound of a depressed man singing about depressing things to lift you up in the depths of a cold northern winter. John Donne once said: “I were miserable if I might not die”. Far from sounding like perhaps the most melancholy comment ever uttered, they have probably pencilled it in for their next album title. I guess New York must be pretty dark and dingy nowadays. Probably all the smog.



The Academy is trying out its own form of indoor pollution by not bothering to clean the place. It stinks of dangerous levels of sick and sweat and god knows what else. I would imagine that the hoards of incoming people wouldn’t have helped either.

You join us on another busy music night in Newcastle with the Metro Radio Arena hosting another big band in the shape of the Kings of Leon. Possibly most of the sold-out Interpol crowd are at the Academy because they couldn’t afford the arena’s pretty extortionate ticket prices; but will the band let that get them down? Probably...

Friendly Fires are the single support act and I can only hope they aren’t as downcast as the headliners, only I wouldn’t want to send them over the edge. It’s just that I don’t like them. There’s a lot going on in their sound and it just hurt my head and the lead singer thinks he’s Brandon Flowers. Mate, you’re not from Las Vegas, you’re from Nottingham. It’s the principle birthplace of Boots the chemist, not the worlds biggest Casino monopoly. Now take off that white waistcoat, stop farting about with that synthesiser and go back to selling ibuprofen.

Half an hour later they were replaced on stage by a smartly attired Interpol and to be honest that’s where the review stops being interesting. Because the gig stopped being interesting. I mean at least the support act produced a performance that was worthy of any note. At least the lead guitarist jumped around and the lead singer looked like a bit of a prick. Hell, the drummer had man-boobs. I’m not suggesting that Interpol should all of a sudden gain weight in order to gain my interest. But do something. Please.


Consequently they produced a set that was funereal primarily for its monotony. The wonderfully haunting 'Pioneer to the Falls' which opens new album 'Our Love to Admire' was simply dull, a hollow shell of its recorded self. There was no drama, no variation, nothing. Oh to have been listening to 'Red Morning Light'...

Similarly 'C’mere', a veritable classic, was as uninspiring as the following five songs which all consisted of new material that was wearily churned out with an embarrassing disregard for entertainment value. The last show of their tour of the Northern Hemisphere had simply become another seemingly tedious practice session for them. “Maybe it’s time we gave something new a try” sung Paul Banks. I’m still waiting...

They might also be advised to adopt this in their song writing as well. I counted four occasions when I thought they were giving another rendition of 'C’mere' only to find out that they were using almost exactly the same opening chords to begin another song. This fact is highlighted further in a live context when the raw sound isn’t altered by clever studio producers. Sadly, when it comes up against this challenge it falls on its face to become another languid continuation of another track.



Surprisingly the band did expend a bit more energy during songs such as 'Slow Hands' and then, soon after, 'Evil' which elicited a good response from the crowd. But just as it started to look good, they reverted back to the static lacklustre approach of before, even with 'The Heinrich Manoeuvre’s angry lyrics. It feels a bit hypocritical for the band to expect the public to believe anything they write if they aren’t seen to feel it themselves.

It was all too pre-meditated and predictable for my liking. They played their instruments very competently and without any mistakes, but I bet that if you asked Banks to talk you through a song he would know every lyrical fluctuation, every despondent pick of his guitar strings. That’s not rock and roll. That’s acting. And pretty boring acting at that.


Classic, early tunes greeted the encore with 'The Specialist' being followed by 'Obstacle 1' and finally 'PDA' and, for one brief and wonderful moment, the gig seemed to have taken off. Interpol became a live band who interacted with the newly energised audience and the sound became looser and freer and people stopped caring that they could have been listening to 'Taper Jean Girl' in a huge arena and appreciated the fact that they were there instead, watching Interpol. And then it was over and they had gone.

Interpol aren’t a bad band. Not by a long way. Their last renditions are a fleeting testament to that. But they need to loosen up a bit and take pleasure in their music. I don’t care that they wear suits and sing about being morbid. It doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy it in the meantime.

FUTURE GIGS