Interpol - Antics

What should I have expected out of Interpol’s second album? A change in direction? A complete re-invention of their sound? Antics opens with promise; Next Exit gives us a recap of how we know the band to sound, and leads into Evil: full of variation and momentum and indicative of their solid songwriting skills. But there the momentum ends. The album blurs together – not unpleasantly, but with little excitement – until Slow Hands, the first single, and Interpol’s attempt to show that they weren’t asleep when someone started calling this sort of stuff dancepunk. Unfortunately, the song stutters and starts and begs for a remix before being ready to kill the floor the way it could (Arthur Baker, please). From there we glide along, typically, on a wash of guitars and self-loathing, pausing for moments of brilliance, but otherwise just treading the same ground as Turn On The Bright Lights, Interpol’s debut. A Time To Be So Small is tearfully pretty, but I keep wishing this whole album could be as good as Evil