Interpol: still indie-rock’s most debonair band
The first time I interviewed Interpol in 2010, I was just weeks into my first full-time gig at Toronto's Eye Weekly. My chat with drummer Sam Fogarino made news around the indie-rock world, as he explained the departure of the band's talismanic bassist Carlos D. Several years later, I chatted with guitarist Daniel Kessler for the National Post, and we talked about how the band manages to still look (and sound) so great.
By the end of 2011, New York indie-rockers Interpol looked like a spent force.
They’d weathered the departure of iconic bassist Carlos D., released a critically listless fourth LP, and endured a nearly two-year global touring odyssey, part of which saw them take their shadowy post-punk to glittering stadiums on a stint opening for U2.
But after a much-needed extended break that saw each member dabble in a wide variety of side projects (including one unfortunately-titled rap album), singer Paul Banks, guitarist Daniel Kessler, and drummer Sam Fogarino found a new gear with 2014’s El Pintor, a collection of upbeat, uplifting anthems that was widely acclaimed as a return to form.
As the band arrives in Canada for a string of summer dates, Kessler spoke to the National Post about feeling reinvigorated as a trio, their moody reputation, and his lifelong passion for stylish suits.
Q: You, Paul Banks, and Sam Fogarino have been playing music together as Interpol for 15 years. But after such a lengthy break between albums, how had the band’s dynamic changed?
A: Obviously it was going to be different because Carlos wasn’t there. Carlos was an incredible contributor to our band, and he’s an incredible human being and artist. So you take one ingredient out of any pot and it’s going to be different. I don’t think we were naïve about that. That said, he left before we’d even finished mixing the last record, and subsequently we toured, played 200 shows, and traveled the world, we became quite comfortable operating as a trio.
When it was time to go into rehearsals, it was strangely comfortable. But something was different, I don’t think we were in denial about that. At the end of day one, it was just Paul and myself, and he [said], “Maybe I should bring a bass tomorrow, because I tend to sing to bass lines, and it would help put some foundation to these songs.” That was the first time we had any conversation about the bass parts. He played a lot of the instruments on his record, and it sounded great. He brought [the bass] in, and by the end of that day, we had made such great headway. It’s terrible to use the word “organic,” and I try not to, because God knows I’ve hit my quota of that over the years, but I think it really was.
Q: El Pintor definitely has a natural feel to it, like you purposely didn’t overthink it.How different was the writing process compared to the way you’ve done it in the past?
A: The songs tend to begin with me, so usually I’ll work on songs over the break before [we regroup]. I usually keep [the songs] in my brain. I’m not really a technology kinda guy, I would just play the songs in the room. But this time I started recording four-track demos, just to kind of put the songs in order.
The difference, as far as we were collaborating, was that usually Carlos would be the first person to respond to what I brought in. This time it was Paul, who, as an all-around contributor…stepping up is a terrible way of putting it…but he did an incredible job as far as the bass lines, the guitar lines, and the vocals.
It was really nice to play music rather than having a big conversation about it. It wasn’t much like throwing things at the wall, or troubleshooting, or hitting wrong turns. We were in sync, everyone was responding to the songs that I had initially brought in. By month two, we had a rehearsal in our humble Brooklyn basement rehearsal space, and [we thought,] “You know we could almost go out and play a show right now as a three piece and it would be compelling.” That was a great sign.
Q: Interpol songs are most often described as dark, brooding meditations. El Pintor may be lyrically dark, but sonically it’s often quite uplifting. Even a song called “Everything Is Wrong” sounds pretty hopeful.
A: I never looked at our music as being “dark,” which is sometimes the label we get. To me, it’s art, it’s a form of expression. I don’t sit there [thinking], “What song’s gonna “work”? What song’s gonna hit with the people?” I don’t write 100 songs a year, I write very few, so they really have to grab my attention, and when they do, I feel elated. I’m euphoric, I’m super excited. It’s not like, “This represents my dour mood…”
Q: Aesthetically, Interpol cultivated a reputation for being the most debonair band in indie-rock. Has the strict suit policy relaxed at all over the years?
A: It was just something we had in common. Yeah, we were starting out, and it probably was something that set us apart from other bands. To this day, we’re quite different from each other. And we certainly were back then. So it wasn’t something that was a marketing tactic as much as something that made sense to all of us.
Me personally, I still wear a suit every single day. I’m wearing a suit right now, when I get off the bus in the morning in Nashville, I’m wearing a suit. I’m that dude. That’s just what I do. Probably more so than the other guys, the other guys definitely don’t wear suits all the time. I don’t see it as a band thing as much as a me thing.
Since I was a little kid, I always knew that I’d be wearing suits. There’s something about it—I just felt at ease. There’s a relaxation, even. It’s no more complicated than a guy wearing blue jeans. I know I’m going to wear a suit every day.
I think there’s been a relaxation as far as how we go about life. But I think it’s just, as men who do things for a certain amount of time, you grow and want to do things differently. Each one of us is our own person. Sometimes we’re unified, and sometimes we’re not, as far as band imagery, but it’s not very contrived.
