interpol

When Interpol released Turn on the Bright Lights in 2002, the album's dark combination of bassy, brooding soundscapes, rich progressions, and echoing (often nonsensical) vocals led many to cite the band as the 21st century's answer to the post-punk movement. Their 2004 follow-up, Antics, proved itself slightly lighter fare, with punchier song structures that occasionally bordered on downright upbeat. Now, with Our Love to Admire, the group seems to be continuing their pursuit of levity, albeit from a slightly redirected angle.

Our Love to Admire still sounds very much like an Interpol album, complete with cavernous atmospherics, driving kick-drums, and icy guitar reverb. And over it all, Paul Banks still listlessly drones through the same clumsy lyrics for which Interpol is so well known (perhaps best exemplified by the staggeringly unsubtle "No I in Threesome," which details the protagonist's declaredly selfless case for a menage-a-trois).

For the most part, this is still the same Interpol that released Turn on the Bright Lights. They just seem to have forgotten one essential element-the bass. While the group's previous works seemed as though they were built for and around the framework of Carlos Dengler's movements, the bass is almost entirely inaudible on Our Love. All of the internal rhythms that characterized the group's earlier releases have been stripped away, taking with them a good part of the group's former energy and emotion.

In its place, Interpol has stepped up the level of guitar interplay, resulting in a full-frontal, guitar-driven record that is both remarkably clean and straightforward. But when the group hammers through tracks such as "The Heinrich Maneuver," their restless gusto almost implies that have forgotten to write the entire song. The track-lamenting a former lover-is both quick and entertaining. It's just not as musically contemplative as some of the group's previous work-as if the group has intentionally substituted pacing for gravity.

It's when the group slows itself down that it really shines, such as on the jolty "Rest My Chemistry," where the song's awkward pacing perfectly complements its subject matter: the drug-addled decision between sex and more drugs.

While the guitar is still the prominent player on the track, it slows down just enough to give the rest of the layers a bit of breathing room. This is rare on Our Love, where most of the tracks move too fast for their own good, and occasionally just choke themselves out. The ironically titled "Pace Is the Trick," for example, feels cluttered, with so many overlays that it ultimately comes out flat. The bulk of the album moves in this fashion, right up until the rattling cocaine comedown of "The Lighthouse"-a moody hangover from the rest of the album's guitar high.