LIVE REVIEW: Interpol, dust @ O2 City Hall, Newcastle (05.11.24)

Even among their staunchest defenders, Interpol are a band widely acknowledged to have peaked early. Most hold 2001’s magnificent debut Turn on the Bright Lights to be the New Yorkers’ finest hour – yet a sizeable minority remain (including, notably, vocalist Paul Banks) who regard 2004 follow-up Antics as their true crowning moment. Certainly, as one of the two universally acclaimed entries in their canon, Antics a record worthy of the anniversary tour treatment. And what better way to open their first visit to the North East in nine years than with a support act from Newcastle?

Fear not! dust (lowercase mandatory) aren’t local favourites who’ve inexplicably flown beneath your radar; nor are they newcomers who’ve been fast-tracked onto a major nationwide tour – rather, they’re a fast-rising post-punk quintet from the harbour city in New South Wales, Australia. It’s not just hometown kinship that endears them to their British brethren: propelled by prominent sax and dual lead vocals, there’s a dynamism and urgency to their fizzling slot which leaves quite the impression. Indeed, with brand new single New High an obvious standout, there’s plenty of evidence their burgeoning reputation Down Under could spread further afield.

With Antics performed in its entirety to mark its 20th anniversary, tonight is the first opportunity for many Interpol fans to experience their deeper-cut favourites live. This doesn’t prevent the likes of Evil and Slow Hands – songs played at virtually every Interpol show since their introduction – from receiving their usual rapturous ovations, yet amid these telegraphed highs it’s the record’s slower burns which shine brightest. Less obviously anthemic, an immaculately executed Narc remains one of the band’s finest ever singles, while the gently towering Take You On A Cruise and Length of Love’s climatic angular build are all the more absorbing projected from the live stage.

As is often the case with full-album shows, things loosen up once Antics has been chalked off and we enter less scripted territory. Never the most histrionic or conversational live act, the quartet nevertheless continue to let the songs and stark lighting speak for themselves – and given the hit-and-miss catalogue they’re pulled from, it perhaps shouldn’t come as a surprise that the results prove a mixed bag.

There are cursory nods to their less-than-beloved self-titled album and the indifferent Marauder; together with a healthy contingent from Antics’ successor, Our Love to Admire. All are perfectly serviceable and acclimatise nicely within a career-spanning set – yet in present context, they equally demonstrate why those records are unlikely to receive similar celebrations come their own big birthdays. The cascading catharsis of My Desire on the other hand is magnificent – for my money, comfortably the finest song they’ve delivered over the past two decades – and by the time the Bright Lights material is reeled out and the red strobes start flashing, we’re firmly in prime Interpol territory.

The very best is saved until last, namely an encore pairing Stella Was A Diver and She Was Always Down and PDA. The former fan favourite feels a particular treat as it makes its tour debut, while the latter is a true rarity – a song where audience participation not only lends itself naturally and unprompted, but genuinely enhances a climatic closing stretch. For a band who frequently toe – and fall both sides of – the fine line separating drudgery and transcendence, there could be no higher note on which to depart.