Interpol review – joyful look back at noughties New York rock

In the new memoir of New York’s early noughties rock scene, Meet Me in the Bathroom, Interpol’s Daniel Kessler reflects: “All I ever wanted to do was make a record. When we started doing our first tour and selling out … it was nothing I expected or thought would happen or even hoped would happen; my dream had already happened.”

Fifteen years on, Kessler and co are reliving that dream in the first of two UK shows dedicated to their 2002 debut album, Turn on the Bright Lights. But true to the era-defining, rule book-burning fervour back then, the atmosphere here is celebratory rather than nostalgic. As businesslike as the suits they wear, the band simply and faithfully recreate their expansive, emotional love letter to the city and times that made them.

Bathed in blood-red light, Paul Banks cradles a microphone and lets his baritone voice unfurl through Untitled. Sounding more like Jim Morrison than Ian Curtis, Banks’ tone is sinister and seductive against Kessler’s sharp, jangly guitar chords, the post-9/11 desolation and confusion of the 2002 album tangible in every note. Kessler is restless through the thrilling Obstacle 1, his sound urgent, his head nodding and swaying as he challenges Sam Fogarino’s powerful drums.

The air is electric as the sold-out audience sing, sigh and gasp, greeting each song with the kinds of “ahhhs” and “ohhhs” that are usually reserved for the firework display held annually at Alexandra Palace. Faced with such complicity, Interpol could churn out the songs, but instead they evince every bit of passion they did the first time round, wallowing in the post-punk disconnection of NYC and Hands Away. During the combative beauty of Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down, Banks stares out at the crowd with a smile.

His joy is reflected back when the band move on to B-side Specialist, which retains the debut’s spirit but not its focus. For the encore, Interpol grab at gems Slow Hands, The Heinrich Maneuver and the brilliant Evil, but they also make room for the claustrophobic darkness of new track Real Life. Bassist Brad Truax, who joined following original bassist Carlos D’s departure in 2010, is a force in the song, which promises much from Interpol’s forthcoming album (their sixth). For now, though, they’ve done the original dream proud.