Royal Albert Hall, London
With warmth and emotional heft, the New York band continue their journey towards rock’s top tier
They arrive onstage wreathed in dry ice, cast in shadows and dressed in impeccable black suits. Indeed, it’s hard to imagine the New York group any other way; they must walk to the bus stop shrouded in fog, and go to sleep in freshly pressed trousers and jacket. But the stern purposefulness of their entrance and the sharpness of their full-sized Ant Hill Mob get-up signal a maturity and determination to tap into the dark, turbulent but cathartic mood that’s served them well for more than 15 years – and proves to still have plenty of life in it tonight.
It’s a sound they coined on 2002 debut Turn on the Bright Lights, a windswept, ruefully melodic post-punk album that was pared back but possessed a widescreen ambition. These are serious men, you sense, and this is big music, tonight filling the cavernous Royal Albert Hall with a rolling thunder of artful angst.
Interpol review – gothic post-punkers grow old gracefully