After 2014’s El Pintor breathed new life into what had seemed a stagnating career, Interpol return with their sixth album. They’ve brought in an outside producer for the first time since 2007’s Our Love to Admire and counterintuitively it’s <person>Dave Fridmann</person>, better known for the kaleidoscopic sensory overload of the Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev than for the more muted hues that have defined the New York trio. <person>Fridmann</person>’s influence isn’t at all overbearing – this still sounds very much like an Interpol album – but their post-punk stylings are warmer and more relaxed now. The most noticeable change is lyrically, <person>Paul Banks</person> introducing autobiographical elements for the first time, and sounding slightly less detached as a consequence.
Marauder certainly starts strongly: the gently lolloping rhythm of If You Really Love Nothing undercutting a beautifully mournful <person>Banks</person> vocal line, and The Rover is even better, an irresistible momentum sharing space with a winning chorus. Flight of Fancy and Number 10 impress too, but elsewhere the quality is more variable: <person>Daniel Kessler</person>’s delicate guitar lines aside, the slower Stay in Touch lacks any light or shade. The equally uninspired closer is called It Probably Matters; on this evidence it probably doesn’t.