Interpol

Hailed by critics and fans alike as one of the best indie records of 2002, Interpol's debut unapologetically apes the jagged Post-Punk pioneered by bands such as Joy Division and the Chameleons. But with its tight structures and strong melodies, their excellent dirge-rock is more an extension of the past than an exhumation.

Pretty girls make graves, but pretty boys make bands, and the four likely lads of Interpol
are so audaciously resplendent in their doom-and-gloom guitar ambience, you just have to
tip your cap. Like many other New York indie bands, these well-dressed young men are
bewitched by classic British art fucks such as Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division, Ride
and the Smiths. But Interpol's sleek, melancholy sound is a thing of glacial beaut... More >

They bitch because everybody compares them to Joy Division, and they're right. It's way too kind, and I say that as someone who thanks Ian Curtis for making New Order possible. Joy Division struggled against depression rather than flaunting it, much less wearing it like a designer suit. What's truly depressing is that, just as the hairy behemoths of the grunge generation looked back to the AOR metal they immersed in as teens, these fops tweak the nostalgia of young adults who cherish indistinct memories of much worse bands than Joy Division, every one of them English--Bauhaus, Ultravox, Visage, Spandau Ballet, Tears for Fears. At a critical moment in consciousness they exemplify and counsel disengagement, self-seeking, a luxurious cynicism. Says certified British subject Peter Banks: "Emotions are standard and boring. I'd like to find another way to live." That's thinking either big or very small. (Grade - C+)