are about as iconic as it gets when it comes to guitar bands these days, blooming out of one of rock history's most vital eras. A pile of rubble was still smoldering in Lower Manhattan, no one quite knew what was next for our world in the wake of 9/11. Yet suddenly there were these bands - truly important bands like The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Interpol - coming of age together, representing their wounded city, and making classic debut albums in the process. Listening to those albums, it's still easy to visualize the horrible events of the day, relive the end-of-days emotions that swirled around the inhabitants of the city/country/world, and imagine life going on. Because it did.
Of those bands, it was always Interpol who seemed the most buttoned up, the most professional of the bunch. Maybe it was the band's highly manicured sense of style, countering the effortless, downtown denim and leather look of their peers with tailor-fresh 3 piece suits and razor-cut haircuts. But those qualities filtered down through the band's music as well. Turn On The Bright Lights
was brooding, mysterious, and perfectly pieced together. Rich textures of guitar and voice coiled together, creating a dark sense of sonic grandeur...qualities you can hear through five studio albums now, including their latest critically acclaimed release, El Pintor
What we're offering today pre-dates Interpol's latest record, though is no less mesmerizing. Filmed in Sydney Australia in 2011, this film captures the band on the heels of their fourth, self-titled album, just after the somewhat tumultuous parting of ways with their quintessential, holster-donning bass player, Carlos D. Still, even without their low-end gunslinger, the band is as refined as ever, working through a (then) career-spanning set of songs in front of a rapturous audience of admirers.