Interpol - "Pioneer To the Falls (Orchestral Remix)"

"Pioneer To the Falls," one of the only songs I like from Interpol's third album Our Love To Admire (Capitol Records, 2007). Former Interpol bassist Carlos Dengler left the band to pursue a more low-key career in composing. If his orchestral remix of "Pioneer To the Falls," which appears on the U.K.-only Mammoth single, is any indication, Carlos' solo work is definitely worth checking out.

Interpol - "Lights" (Capitol Records, 2010)

As I’d mentioned in my previous post, Interpol recently finished recording its fourth album. That album doesn’t have a title yet, but the band has already released one song, the brooding, deliberate “Lights.” While “Lights” doesn’t exhibit the orchestral approach that the band has alluded to in interviews (not a surprising approach, considering frontman Paul Banks’ string-laden solo album and Carlos D.’s increasing forays into film scores, likely the sort of work he left the band to further pursue), “Lights” does revisit the band’s Bright Lights-era subtlety and attention to song-craft which the band has promised in even earlier interviews.

Despite these allusions/promises, I remain wary of the hope that “Lights” provides. After all, “Pioneer to the Falls,” which opens Our Love to Admire, is one of the best post-Bright Lights songs Interpol has written, yet the rest of Our Love to Admire displays Interpol at its worst (so far).

Addendum: Interpol's new logo is fucking rad.

Download "Lights" for free here.

(Next) Exit Carlos

So, Carlos Dengler (or “Carlos D.”) has left Interpol. Well, that just adds more incentive to stop caring about Interpol, or at least to stop caring as much. For me, this incentive already began with their largely mediocre third album Our Love to Admire which was released three years ago.

Usually, when bands change members, especially so late into their careers, it’s for the worst. Sure, Sonic Youth made its best albums after a seemingly endless search for a drummer, but Steve Shelley permanently filled that role during the art-punk pioneers’ formative years. By 2010, nearly eight years after Interpol released its modern classic debut album Turn on the Bright Lights, no matter whom Interpol recruits to replace Carlos, Interpol will never be the same band that was so integral to my formative years (of music-discovery).

I don’t know if it was the lofty, spacious production on Turn on the Bright Lights that made the album sound so timeless and even almost celestial at times or if it was just the quality or style of Carlos’ bass-playing (perhaps it was a combination of all three), but Carlos D. was the first bassist to have ever really made me appreciate the bass. It was Carlos’ clearly plucked notes, unobscured by the rest of the band’s instruments or Paul Bank’s melancholy tenor, that I’ll always remember having fallen asleep to in altered states throughout high school.

While Carlos stayed in the band long enough to finish recording its new, currently untitled album, he won’t be joining Paul et al. on their follow-up tour. Instead, the band has already announced that it has “some very exciting new recruits” joining them on the road. Sounds good, but I’m not holding my breath.

Despite my wariness, however, and despite my earlier sentiments about bands changing their line-ups and that perhaps it’s time to stop caring about Interpol, I owe a lot to the band. After all, Interpol was one of the first indie bands I listened to, after Beck and Radiohead drew me away from classic rock, which in turn drew me away from nü metal and rap-rock. For that reason alone, I know that no matter how bad Interpol may get, and no matter how strong my pre-conceptions of their new music may be, I’m always going to keep up with Interpol's work, Carlos or no Carlos.