At the dawn of the 21st century, the New York City indie rock scene emerged as a beacon of artistic innovation, capturing widespread attention. Within this vibrant milieu, Interpol's second album, Antics, stands out as a landmark release.
Released in 2004, Antics initially received a spectrum of responses-acclaimed by fans yet somewhat dismissed by critics. Nevertheless, time has favored Antics, elevating it to a revered status among aficionados. Covering everything from its intricate musical craftsmanship to its innovative marketing, this book explores Interpol's creative evolution and the album's shift toward distinct singles while preserving its atmospheric essence.
Highlighting Interpol's widespread appeal, especially in Latin America, this book examines their passionate fanbase and the cultural phenomena that emerged, showcasing the enduring bond between the band and their international audience. It also considers the global impact of Antics, underscoring the album's longevity and Interpol's role as architects of a sound that has resonated across borders and generations, cementing their place in the annals of modern music history.
Unlike the awestruck author, Interpol are nowhere near my favourite band, and even within that, I'd generally take the post-hedonic exhaustion of their third album over its breakthrough predecessor. But Antics is the one with the hit so, for all the series' air of indie seriousness, that's the one which tends to get a 33 1/3. Though I was interested that my perception of 'the hit' is apparently not the standard one; Slow Hands gets acknowledged as a favourite here, but the laurels go to Evil, which apart from the various chart successes lovingly enumerated, apparently "infiltrated pop culture, popping up in The 100, Entourage, Grey's Anatomy, The O.C., and even the 2022 horror film Orphan: First Kill." No, me either. And the bathetic ending of that list goes some of the way to explaining why I found the early chapters of this so trying. Saxton-Ruiz knew the band's Paul Banks from school, though there's a nagging suspicion that he thinks they're bigger buddies than Banks does. And along with other factors, this combines to push him into a puppyish enthusiasm for the band in general and this era in particular which makes it seem like a bit when he praises his old mate's "allergy to cliché", because his own prose seems magnetically attractive to them, starting with a night "as electrifying as it was unforgettable" at Mexico City's Zócalo, a venue whose stats and past stars are breathlessly extolled in a manner more suitable for a press release. I know that, having grown up on the dying glow of the great British music press, I can be prone to regarding US music writing as a choice of failure modes, but this is sorry stuff.
Mercifully, once we get to the in-depth song-by-song analysis which should be the heart of any 33 1/3 without a particularly strong concept, matters improve vastly. The attempts at analysing the lyrics can sometimes slip into the earnestness which constitutes another of those failure modes (I've always taken it as read that Interpol lyrics were more vibes than codes to be cracked), but when it comes to the specifics of the music, how given sounds translate to particular emotional effects, he's very good – this despite having earlier expressed some defeatist sentiments regarding the possibility of writing meaningfully about music, which mostly made me think, well why on Earth are you doing this book, then? There's also some solid behind the scenes info, though not being a hardcore fan, I couldn't tell you how new it is. And when we hear about the band's perfectionism, how a line comprising four words was pieced together from as many vocal takes, I feel like there's another story that could have been explored about the way music which sounds so disaffected was pieced together with such obsession. See also the record label guy's recollection that "It felt like I was in a board meeting – like they were four businessmen who happened to be in the business of making music, and who were very serious about their art." I was reminded here of the Radiophonic Workshop 33 1/3, its fascination with the way that people going to an office job in suits were making more radical sounds than any number of bands living out the expected rock star lifestyle. Antics, though, leaves that statement largely unexamined, and moves on.
But at least by this point it's moving on to somewhere interesting and new. By the end, we do return to that Zócalo gig from the book's unpromising beginning, but this time via an examination of the band's devoted Latin American fanbase, their networks and meme culture. And once we're back at the show, this time it feels like a glorious moment in emotional rather than marketing terms. There's half of an excellent 33 1/3 in here; I just wish I hadn't had to fight my way through those opening chapters to get to it.
Oh, and if you're wondering about the key questions in any discussion of Interpol: yes, there's plenty about how cool Carlos looked (though Saxton-Ruiz may be the first person in a while to quote an Azaelia Banks tweet as supporting evidence of anything other than Azaelia Banks having gone very wrong); and yes, the book does remind readers that Paul Banks released a mixtape called Everybody On My Dick Like They Supposed To Be.
Bloomsbury Publishing's 33 1/3 series presents deep dives on music albums written by fans, critics, academics, musicians and many others. Their focus depends on the author, and for Interpol's Antics, (apparently the 201st entry?) Professor of Latin American Literature and Culture, Gabriel t Saxton-Ruiz we get a summation of the band's formation and first album, the process of recording Antics, a technical break down of the album track by track, how the album was released and the music videos made to support it, and the legacy of the album in the band's continued career.
Highly readable, Saxton-Ruiz draws from his personal memories, having known Daniel Kessler in high school, the contemporary reviews of the album on release and the growing body of work about 2000s music such as Meet Me in the Bathroom: Rebirth and Rock and Roll in New York City 2001- 2011. The sections take their titles from lyrics of different Antics songs.
Antics is now more than twenty years old, and I was there for the launch and reception, and its been an album that has stayed in rotation. As is pointed out several times, Interpol was coming off being a buzz band for their first album and had to face the dread of a possible sophomore slump, and as Saxton-Ruiz rightfully argues, Interpol avoided it completely, still touring with only one line-up change since. They've gone from being labelled as sounds like Joy Division, to being their own band that can be named dropped on their own for hall marks of their sound. They are still producing albums and touring the world.
Recommended to fans of Interpol, NYC based bands, contemporary rock & roll .
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
Thanks to the publisher for the early NetGalley read. Within the 331/3 series this is one of the good ones. The author actually was a friend/acquaintance of singer Paul Banks. The backstory and analysis of the songs is top notch. If I had to quibble I’d recommend leaving discussion of the Antics remix EP on the cutting room floor as well as the larger discussion of the 3 music videos, none of which are crucial to the understanding or enjoyment of Antics. ¡Viva los Interpoleros!