Interpol Brings Much-Needed Suave to Boston’s Roadrunner
Photography by Maddie Cohen
by sofia giarrusso
Much hubbub surrounds what’s been deemed “nostalgia concerts.” Basically, it’s when older artists come to ‘Your Town,’ USA to celebrate trivial anniversaries of albums! Woo-hoo! And while touring notoriously doesn’t bring in the dough, merch sales and the reinvigoration of stale clout are reason enough for this controversial fad. A win-win for both parties…or a mere cash grab depending on your likeness for the music.
I’ve been witness to four “nostalgia concerts” this year alone. Spoiler alert: All four culprits are gaggles of middle-aged men who float somewhere among the rock space. Guster, Death Cab For Cutie/The Postal Service, Keane, and most recently, Interpol.
There’s a clear difference between Interpol and the other guys–nobody “forgot” about them. Nostalgia is obsolete to their evergreen body of work and generation-defying talent. Simply, they don’t need to impress anybody. And more importantly, they don’t try to. They just do.
A kind of Yin to The Strokes’ Yang, NYC’s Paul Banks (vocals, guitar, bass), Daniel Kessler (guitar), and Sam Fogarino (drums) are hailed as legends of the post-punk revival. Their debut, 2002’s Turn On The Bright Lights, grows richer with time as they continue to produce quality work into the present day. They’re intelligent players, emotional lyricists, and sharp performers. On top of all that, Interpol (particularly Banks) is cool. Cool in a way you just don’t see anymore. This suave is a byproduct of their edgy tonalities, slick styles, and the fact they’ve only gotten more decadent with age.
Interpol possesses a level of sauce that Ben Gibbard could never fathom.
Interpol hit the Roadrunner stage on Sunday, December 2nd to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Antics. An album as old as I am…so much for nostalgia. The crowd was saturated by millennial and Gen X men; typical fare, a consequence of my own tastes. As I stood alone in anticipatory excitement, opener Cave In warmed up the space with a modest, yet tight 45-minute set. The Bostonian band has been around longer than Interpol, and was met with scattered screams of delight by what I gathered were long-time fans. Cave In leans more metal than Interpol, and I appreciated the contrast, even by my metalhead-less standards. I can get down with a punchy guitar and a performance that utilizes a solid yell, especially when it’s done right.
A sheer sheet hung across the stage. 9:15 PM. Interpol walked on stage. Hidden by the cloth, only visible in the form of their shadows, they began with “Next Exit” to delight the eager crowd. “Evil” came next with a full reveal of the band, decked out in their iconic slim, all-black attire. The entirety of Antics proceeded, front to back. No bells or whistles. Not even a backdrop. Just the band and some cool lighting to match their fluorescent appeal.
The Antics run of the setlist moved swiftly, in an identical fashion to the album itself. Banks took brief breaks to acknowledge the crowd, Boston, and the two-decade span since its release. Typical cordial singer duties. They then moved into a varied setlist that covered their more expansive history. Again, release-accurate performances transpired. The encore came with favorites from Turn On The Bright Lights, “The New” and “PDA.”
Like that, it was 10:45 PM. Interpol dazzled Boston. A glaze could be seen over my eyes for the next hour. Fan service done right.
It’s difficult to synthesize a show like this. I can compliment Interpol over and over again, but redundancy is a vice. Clearly, I am a huge fan. I just couldn’t shake objectivity in the name of the free press when Paul F****n’ Banks was standing right there in front of me. And down with the constant nuance! Let me be happy!
I did take away what I already knew: Interpol can shred. Effortlessly. They sound as good as ever, and they didn’t need a “nostalgia concert” to prove it.
