https://youtube/watch?v=gBe7Wq6vhWs Coachella Song of the Day - TopicsExpress



          

https://youtube/watch?v=gBe7Wq6vhWs Coachella Song of the Day (81 Terrell Owens Days Until Coachella): “Leif Erikson” from Interpol’s Turn On the Bright Lights CSOD writers Alex Rice, Sheldon Vaughn, and Seth Lichtenstein while away countless hours chatting online, and one of their favorite topics is today’s featured artist, Interpol. Therefore, we decided to have all three collaborate in an email exchange for today’s feature. Here is the transcript: Seth Lichtenstein: Interpol is a rock band formed in the late 90s in New York City whose style is a revival of English post-punk, with the most notable and common comparison being to Joy Division. Today’s song is the last track off their widely acclaimed 2002 debut LP Turn On the Bright Lights. What else should our audience know? Sheldon Vaughn: Well, our audience might like to know that they spent years in relative obscurity while self-releasing EP after EP before Bright Lights. That’s kind of a cool work ethic in my opinion. They now have 5 studio albums. Bright Lights is now looked at as one of the best albums of 2000-2010. Um…they’re like my favorite band playing Coachella this year? Alex Rice: Turn on the Bright Lights is one of the most powerful records I’ve ever heard. It’s the perfect “walking around a big city at night” records. It creates its own world of late ’90s/early ’00s New York City cool, from the multitude of available couches to sleep on in “PDA” to Stella’s troubled existence and the enigmatic, knife-collector butcher in “Roland.” It’s frustrating to me that this is a world that likely never existed outside of singer Paul Banks’ head, because I would totally live in it if I could. As far as I’m concerned, today’s song, “Leif Erikson,” is the songwriting apex of the post-punk revival period of 10-15 years ago. This mysterious narrative of an imperfect relationship is, ironically, perfect. SL: I don’t know if I’d like to live in your hypothetical Banks world; it could be extremely emotionally draining. That said, I do love to visit, as I’ve worn out the figurative grooves on Turn On the Bright Lights and its follow up, Antics, ever since I got the latter as a Christmas present from my much cooler, LA-dwelling older brother in high school. For me, Interpol was a gateway drug to the great bands of the original new wave, but what makes Turn On the Bright Lights such a great piece of revivalism is the rich detail. Every note, weird production trick, or muffled background vocal is perfectly placed to set the mood of walking from bars to theaters to studio apartments around crowded streets and through dark alleys alone. SV: Interpol’s subject matter is often correlated around a theme, but is impossible to completely nail down. Bright Lights seems to largely deal with imperfect relationships, like Alex said, but you have tangents into obscurity (or deeper into obscurity) like Roland. Sophomore album Antics is clearly about some kind of mischievous behavior, but again, the spray pattern is still impossible to decipher completely. These are nowhere near concept albums, but the almost cryptic and highly symbolic lyrics make Interpol even more engaging and moving. SL: Interpol has always kept this air of mystery surrounding their music, especially when it comes to not publishing their cryptic and sometimes hard-to-decipher lyrics. For me, it makes their music more about the mood than the literal meaning. Some have been critical of this all as a band being too image-conscious, especially since their later output has skewed more toward mediocrity. What do you guys make of this perception? AR: The songs on Turn on the Bright Lights are absolutely more about the mood than the lyrical content, even though you can get lost for a day in Banks’ words. As someone who thinks R.E.M. is the greatest band ever, I have absolutely no complaints about Interpol not publishing their cryptic lyrics. Interpol’s music is dark and mysterious, so why shouldn’t they play up that angle themselves? SV: I listen to a few tracks off of Bright Lights almost every day when I’m at the gym (that’s right readers, I workout). I chose to point this fact out because of the mood of the music. I usually do both “Obstacle 1” & “Obstacle 2,” “PDA,” “Say Hello to the Angels,” “Stella Was a Driver and She Was Always Down,” and “Roland.” I could recite those lyrics with my eyes closed while spinning in circles, but I still can’t give you an even 75% assurance that I know what the hell Banks is singing about. I love the vibrant energy of those tracks and the inspiration that energy gives me. However, equally as important to me is how emotionally resonant Interpol lyrics are on those dark nights on tracks like “NYC,” “The New,” and of course “Leif Erikson.” I wasn’t sure when would be a good time to bust this out, but today I printed out the lyrics to today’s song and analyzed them AP Lit style with my Starbucks. The song really is linear and a transformation takes place. At first he addresses his lover with the words “rabid, prey (in reference to himself), and jungle” it’s clearly a very aggressive description. Then by the end of the song her love is “a pony”, and well we all know how much the peaceful Lisa Simpson loves ponies. AR: When it comes to “Leif Erikson,” the lyrics are just as important to me as the music. Naturally, it’s difficult to pin down exactly what Banks is trying to say in this song, but I wouldn’t have my Interpol any other way. In my interpretation, the first half of the song finds the narrator and his significant other fighting or at least griping about why they aren’t perfect for each other (“She says it helps with the lights out”), but that takes a turn when Banks sings, “I picture you and me together in the jungle/It would be okay.” When you remove the stresses of their lives and place them outside of the world they live in, they’re perfect for each other. I love that sentiment. By the time Daniel Kessler’s triumphant guitar solo swoops in to close out the record, Banks is falling in love again (“It’s like learning a new language”). My favorite line in “Leif Erikson,” though, is “Her rabid glow is like braille to the night.” Those nine words just make me want to meet that woman. SL: So, Leif Erikson, the person was a Viking and the first person of European descent to land on North America. I believe “Leif Erikson,” the song, is about one man’s attempt to convince a woman otherwise fickle in her relationships to commit to him. In the song, the singer is so enamored with this woman that he knows he would commit to her for the rest of his life despite her dismissiveness of him. You draw the connection between the two. AR: Thank God it wasn’t called “Leaf, Ryan.” SV: Leif Erikson probably found himself often not knowing what language was being spoken around him, which I think anyone who has ever been in a struggle with family or friends or significant other can relate to. Sometimes it feels like you’re speaking a language that only makes that person feel lonely, angry, or sad. Communicating is the hardest part. Like experiencing a new culture, Banks says, “I think it’s time to learn your way.” He has to change the way he shows his affection, which he describes as both “mime” and being “subliminal.” AR: Should I ruin this title analysis and tell you guys why the song is called “Leif Erikson”? SL: Yes. Don’t let us look any stupider than we already do. AR: The song got its title because the synth line initially reminded Daniel Kessler of an old Viking song. However, that doesn’t mean the explorer’s name didn’t take on a greater significance once married with the lyrics. SL: No, I think it clearly rules it out, because as I just laid out, it’s really hard to connect the two, no matter how hard you stretch. SV: There is talk of boats, sailing, discovery, language, ways, and jungle. I think there’s something there personally. AR: What’s everybody else’s favorite lyric from “Leif Erikson”? SL: Well, you already took mine. I’m a sucker for good imagery since I have no knack for it myself. But to be original, I’ll say, “All the people that you’ve loved, they’re all bound to leave some keepsakes.” It’s delivered so coolly. Is it meant as a dig or a compliment? It’s hard to say. SV: My favorite line from the song is, “She feels that my sentimental side should be held with kid gloves/She doesn’t know that I left my urge in the icebox.” I think this statement is about how often we change who we are when in a relationship; in love we often have hidden desires that we rarely act on and that we kid ourselves and our significant others by thinking those desires will never come forth. SL: What do you guys make of Interpol making their fourth Coachella appearance – one every four years since 2003? Obviously 2003 and 2007 were well warranted, but some Coachella fans have criticized the next two, since the two albums that people want to hear them play came out in 2002 and 2004. AR: I want to hear Interpol play whatever they want to play, as long as it includes “Leif Erikson.” I’ve seen them seven times and only once been graced with this song in the setlist. It’s my fault that I was a little too drunk to appreciate them playing it, and I won’t forgive myself until I hear it live again. Anyway, their recent setlists have been very heavy on Turn on the Bright Lights and Antics songs, so everybody can just pretend it’s 2004. Even if the setlist was all new stuff, El Pintor rocks. coachellasongoftheday.tumblr/ #interpol
Posted on: Mon, 26 Jan 2015 22:13:48 +0000

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