Turn on the Bright Lights

1	[Untitled] 3:56
2	Obstacle 1 4:11
3	NYC 4:19
4	Pda 4:59
5	Say Hello to the Angels 4:28
6	Hands Away 3:05
7	Obstacle 2 3:47
8	Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down 6:27
9	Roland 3:35
10	The New 6:07
11	Leif Erikson 4:00

Barnes & Noble

There's been a lot of noise in recent days about bands that are trying to revive punk's original spirit, so it's not altogether surprising that some contrarians would inch a bit forward in time -- like this New York quartet, who seem hellbent on recreating the dark, doomy tenor of the post-punk wave that brought ashore bands like Joy Division and Gang of Four back in '79 or so. While sometimes slavishly imitative -- singer Paul Banks does a frighteningly precise channel of the late Ian Curtis on songs such as "Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down" -- Interpol are no one-trick pony. On "Obstacle One," the combination of brittle guitar scratch and repeating rhythm patterns coalesce into a drone that's both alluring and hypnotic; the more fleshed-out "Obstacle Two" adds a few more layers of guitar, but the overall feel is no less eerily claustrophobic. "Say Hello to the Angels," on the other hand, lurches along with more abandon, imparting a drunken vibe that wouldn't be out of place on a Strokes album. Surprisingly morose as it may be for an album bearing such a title, Turn on the Bright Lights gives darkened tunnels -- and musical tunnel vision -- a good name. David Sprague

All Music Guide

One might go into a review like this one wondering how many words will pass before Joy Division is brought up. In this case, the answer is 16. Many are too quick to classify Interpol as mimics and lose out on discovering that little more than an allusion is being made. The music made by both bands explores the vast space between black and white and produces something pained, deftly penetrating, and beautiful. Save for a couple vocal tics, that's where the obvious parallels end. The other fleeting comparisons one can one whip up when talking about Interpol are several -- roughly the same amount that can be conjured when talking about any other guitar/drums/vocals band formed since the '90s. So, sure enough, one could play the similarity game with this record all day and bring up a pile of bands. It could be a detrimental thing to do, especially when this record is so spellbinding and doesn't deserve to be mottled with such bilge. However, this record is a special case; slaying the albatross this band has been unfairly strangled by is urgent and key. Let's: There's another Manchester band at the heart of "Say Hello to the Angels," but that heart is bookended by a beginning and end that approaches the agitated squall of Fugazi; the torchy, elegiac "Leif Erikson" plays out like a missing scene from the Afghan Whigs' Gentlemen; the upper-register refrain near the close of "Obstacle 1" channels Shudder to Think. This record is no fun at all, the tension is rarely resolved, and -- oh no! -- it isn't exactly revolutionary, though some new shades of gray have been discovered. But you shouldn't allow your perception to be fogged by such considerations when someone has just done it for you and, most importantly, when all this brilliance is waiting to overwhelm you. Andy Kellman

Rolling Stone

Interpol's sleek, melancholy sound is a thing of glacial beauty. Rob Sheffield

Entertainment Weekly

One of the most exciting new sounds of the year. (A-) Evan Serpick