Well, well. If it isn’t Interpol. The coolest indie (EDIT: mainstream) band this side of the Atlantic. Two releases on Matador and 800 Joy Division comparisons later, Interpol have emerged with a major label debut so confusing, that no one has any idea whether it’s good or not. Lead singer and guitarist Paul Banks blankets the band’s post-shoegaze anthems with words so direct that they are completely baffling. Three albums in to their short (yet impressive) career, they’ve taught us an extremely valuable lesson; There’s no “I” in threesome.

While there isn’t one music critic in the whole of planet Earth who wouldn’t love to give Our Love to Admire a bad review, many have concluded that it’s too close to call. However, I’ve come by a small amount of reviews which seem to be straining not to call it “absolute shit.” This isn’t because Our Love to Admire is a bad record. In fact, Our Love to Admire is an amazing record. The real issue is the fact that Interpol have cursed themselves the way many bands do; they made a perfect debut. Not only does this mean that their sophomore and everything that follows will be under intense scrutiny, but in all likely-hood will be considered absolute shit before it even hits the itunes store (unless, of course, you’re the Arctic Monkeys - see Arctic Monkeys are Bigger Than Jesus).

So, according to lead singer Paul Banks, there’s no “I” in threesome. It seems juvenile, but Banks somehow makes it insightful. This is where the confusion comes in. “Baby, it’s time we give something new a try.” Who can’t relate to that? But maybe it speaks on more than just Banks’ staling relationship. Perhaps this is an analytical comment on Interpol’s third album, which also happens to be their Capitol Records debut. Trying to peg Interpol’s musical intentions and lyrical symbolism is harder than trying to think of a better influence to site than Joy Division (801). The more abstract and innocently lost Turn on the Bright Lights seemed as if it was paving the way for Interpol to be the next Radiohead (actually be the next Radiohead, not “sound a lot like Radiohead” or “want to be just like Radiohead real bad” or “not be nearly as good as Radiohead“). Somewhere between then and now, they strayed off of that path and seem to have embraced the rock band that FUSE TV would want them to be. Is this necessarily a bad thing? No. I think? I don’t know.

It’s understandable how Interpol’s last two albums could have disappointed and confused your average suit-and-tie-wearing-rock-band fan, or critic, or weird guy who always sits in the back at Arlene’s Grocery and has the same expression on his face for every band that plays. It’s almost as if Interpol went where they were subconsciously expected to go, and consciously let everyone down in the process. Why? Is it the self inflicted predictable instrumentation? Is it simply the fact that the band has become a commercial success (there isn’t enough time in the day to dive into that one) or is it Banks’ questionably atrocious, yet possibly ingenious, wordy sunglassed lyrical mindfuck? As you can tell, I’ve gone with the latt…est.

With song titles like “Heinrich Maneuver” and “Rest My Chemistry,” it’s hard to imagine what the problem could possibly be with Paul Banks’ poetic slice of hipster heaven. Further examination will show that Paul Banks is in fact the best worst lyricist ever who says the most without saying anything at all:

How are things on the west coast
I hear you’re moving real fine
You wear those shoes like a dove
Now strut those shoes

Huh? Perhaps this is like the whole threesome thing, or maybe “shoes” have nothing to do with “shoes” and “dove” has nothing to do with “dove.” Is it the snazzy black suit that makes these words more meaningful than they actually are? Is it the New York cool that cancels out the literal translation of these lyrics, as if it it simply doesn’t matter what the hell Banks is trying to say at all? Or has the music becoming less abstract magnified the fact that these lyrics….suck?

There is plenty of evidence to the contrary (or, at least, a little bit). Don’t get me wrong; Interpol are one of my favorite suit-and-tie-wearing rock bands that constantly get compared to the same band that they constantly insist they are not a fan of. What they do best is create an “atmosphere of cool,” if you will. It’s not so much what is going on, but how it’s going on. They’ve overloaded on twangy guitar plucks so heavily that they now seem to be recycling them from an Interpol Twangy Guitar Pluck music book. However, this isn’t so much a repetitive sound as it a sound in general. It’s good to have a sound. Many bands have a sound that is sometimes mistaken for a repetitive sound. The Strokes have a sound. The White Stripes have a sound. Oasis has a repetitive sound. Do you see the difference? Me neither. The point was that it’s the way Banks delivers his mindfuck, and not the way it looks on paper (and it looks pretty bad).

Baby you stood by my side
And life is wine
But there are days in this life
When you see the teeth marks of time

The teeth marks of time…that is very clever. Either that, or it’s absolute shit. In conclusion, there may be no “I” in threesome, but there’s definitely an “I” in Interpol. Right?