Interpol’s new album only a shadow of former glory

Interpol

Interpol

Capitol Records

Rocks Like: The cold

realization that your former… Interpol

Interpol

Capitol Records

Rocks Like: The cold

realization that your former favorite band just isn’t what it used to be

Grade: C-

Maybe bassist Carlos Dengler knew something the rest of us didn’t when he left Interpol last May.

For a band that showed such promise when its debut album was released almost a decade ago, Interpol’s self-titled latest effort feels like a chore — a turgid affair from a band past its prime.

Part of the appeal of Interpol’s first two albums, “Turn on the Bright Lights” and “Antics,” was that the group delivered the sound of the times: ethereal, post-punk misery. And whereas the latter album might have spiced things up a bit by throwing in pop overtones, the band still retained its core sound.

Since moving from Matador Records to the majors for 2007’s “Our Love to Admire,” however, Interpol’s dabbling in other styles and genres has been a largely mixed bag, and on this new release the creative decisions seem even more puzzling. In the transition between “Try It On” and “All Of The Ways,” for instance, the band delves into the realm of glitch pop for all of 40 seconds.

This incredibly mild, brief experimentation occurs time and time again throughout the album, and ultimately ends up being one of “Interpol”’s biggest drags.  It’s as though the band was willing to get into the swimming pool, but didn’t want to get wet.

Even more distracting is Interpol’s newfound tendency to musically ape itself — “Lights” is basically an extended version of the opening track, “Success,” and “Always Malaise (The Man I Am)” actually goes so far as to include a section that’s identical to the closing minute of “Pioneer To The Falls” on “Our Love to Admire.”

There are, however, a few scattered moments where that old Interpol magic manages to shine through.

Its aforementioned mimicry aside, “Lights” is among the band’s strongest songs in the past several years, and the closing moments of “Barricade” — during which the rest of the band melts away to leave guitarist Daniel Kessler alone — are simply masterful.

But these instances are so fleeting that they don’t come anywhere near to salvaging the album.

It’s fairly safe to assume at this juncture that Interpol won’t be releasing another LP that reaches the heights of “Turn on the Bright Lights.”

With a steady streak of diminishing returns for the last eight years, the band is beginning to transform into the M. Night Shyamalan of indie rock.