Interpol at The Olympia Theatre, Dublin, on February 10th 2015

As the 90’s drew to a close and grunge music was no longer in vogue, a subtle alchemy simmered below the surface of New York, the musical Mecca of our world. Those inclined towards classification called it a post-punk revival. One manifestation of this newly rejuvenated punk hybrid was Interpol.

Fusing the revered spirit of punk with more artful, brooding and introspective elements is indeed experimental, perhaps even incompatible. But these juxtaposing features create a rich and complex musical package.

This strange musical alchemy is immediately evident when the group break into opening number Say Hello To The Angels. In many ways the strongest opening song in their catalogue, its staccato rhythm and Clash-inspired guitar work gets the Olympia moving.

Having started strong with something familiar from their first album, the band then offers the audience a couple of new tracks, Anywhere and My Blue Supreme. Paul Banks’ monochrome, trance-inducing vocals are in full swing now, bringing the crowd to a new, but equally intense, headspace.

Still though, the band is just warming up. So is the crowd.

It wasn’t until the instantly recognisable bassline from Evil that the crowd suddenly combusted into a fit of musical furore. Just in time too, because there was soon to be a palpable change in pace and energy. The band drives through these four songs until they reach The New. Equal parts reflective and wistful, and against a static backdrop of El Pintor’s album cover, the song soon gives way to agonising frustration in a crashing wave of distorted guitar, while the image begins to ripple and warp.

This breakdown signals the beginning of a more powerful and energised show. Newer tracks such as My Desire share the setlist with older classics such as Narc and Not Even Jail, all delivered with that same paradoxical blend of melancholia and thundering rhythm lines. The audience is induced to both frantically jump and gently sway, only sometimes certain which action is more appropriate.

With very few words from Banks other than introducing the band members and the usual pleasantries, just as humbly as they walked onto the stage they walk off it, after a volcanic rendition of Slow Hands.

The three-track encore is a powerhouse of live performance. All The Rage Back Home is a perfect Interpol song and settles in well with its new live responsibilities. Then there is the back-to-back nostalgia trip to the days of ‘Turn On The Bright Lights’, when the band reel in the audience for NYC  and tacitly encourage them to share in the anthemic moments of  “It’s up to me now, turn on the bright lights!” only then to hit them hard with the  heavier  track PDA.

Just as the audience is left reeling, they are offered a second encore of the seminal Untitled. A more atmospheric mood ensues and allows the theatre to gently slip into a reverie as the show slowly comes to its conclusion.

Post-punk revival. Strange alchemy.