We know, we know - we've been lazy. Nonetheless, we've now relocated to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Tonight's Classic Album is bought to you by a cup of tea but now that Ramadan is over, we'll rectify that soon enough.
Interpol's extraordinary second album, Antics, was released in 2004. Their first, critically acclaimed album, Turn on the Bright Lights, was dark, angsty rock - brilliant but far from unique. I don't think I've heard another album like Antics. It's melodic and almost funky. It's still dark but it's not bleak, with lyrics that talk about love as being something other than a curse.
The opening song, Next Exit forms around a slow chant. After seeing their electric show at Splendour in 2005, my friend and I entertained the bus queue by singing Next Exit drunkenly and loudly. Those who knew the lyrics joined in. Others cursed us for ruining their formative memories of such an exciting show.
Evil is a stand-out on a seamless, tight album (check out the disturbing film clip). It slowly builds up momentum, carried along by a driving bass line, before pausing breathlessly and launching into the crescendo of the chorus. Banks' vocals resonate inside your head (even if we still have no idea what he's talking about...)
Slow Hands is also thrilling live. As good a gig-memory as I have in my rock-addled brain. It's got a dance-floor beat, thumping riff, and Banks' haunting vocals lifting you into the rousing chorus. It also has my all-time favourite rock lyric - "you make me want to pick up a guitar and celebrate the myriad ways that I love you". I think it may have appeared on a mix tape for L early on in our relationship.
Banks' vocals warrant mentioning. They are baritone, and at times monotone. He sounds like the monster out of a 1950s horror picked up a microphone and started singing in a plea for his lost love. With a funky emo rhythm section backing him. And before you get the wrong impression, that's a good thing.
