Interpol: We’re Basically Facing the End of the World, Like a Funeral

August 27, 2026

Interpol’s new album lands this Friday, August 28, under the title “This Mirror Weighs a Ton,” with the challenge of making us ponder a world where reality can blur with fake news and artificial intelligence.

But the first days of July still find me meeting Paul Banks in a Madrid hotel, as the band is about to take the stage at Mad Cool. Paul checks the time now and then, anxious to reach his soundcheck on time, but overall he’s keen to chat, and when I propose either dropping a question about toxic masculinity or another about pop music, he says he can manage both. “This Mirror Weighs a Ton” sounds bleak in many moments, though finely tuned under Andrew Wyatt’s guidance, and those who fear the world may crumble before the story unfolds should seek out every loudspeaker, every listening ear alike.

As an artist, at this point in your career, do you try to do something different when approaching a new album, or do you simply aim to make the best possible songs?
The idea behind this album was that, to write strong songs, we needed to do something different. On the previous record we couldn’t write together in the same space because we now live in different countries, so for this album we consciously chose to meet up and play together in person. I also decided to stop playing bass and hand it to Brad, our touring bassist. I stuck to guitar and vocals. That brought a new dynamic to the creative process. Finally, we decided to work with Andrew Wyatt, hoping he would bring a fresh touch to the songs.

At the same time, I think in all the projects I’ve been part of I’ve never approached work with the mindset: “I have to do something different.” It’s more about writing the best possible songs. You don’t discard a song just because it isn’t distinct enough—at least we don’t. If a song has a life of its own and fights for a place, you follow that path. I completely understand an artist who says: “I have to do something different,” in the sense of choosing not to use guitars and composing only with synthesizers in, say, A minor. I respect that stance, but it isn’t what we do.

Speaking of guitars, there’s always tension in Interpol’s songs, for example on this record with “Wings on Wire” and “Wake Up.” Do you see it more as an identity, or a kind of bondage? Like, “we have to do this; otherwise it won’t sound like Interpol.”
I’d have to tell you which guitar you mean, if it’s the riff from “Wake Up” (he hums)… I don’t dictate what Daniel (Kessler) plays, but I don’t think he feels obliged to sound in any particular way. I simply think he sounds in a very specific way. But that isn’t because he feels he must. It’s just the way he writes music. Sometimes he sits at the piano, and the chord progression still sounds very Daniel to me.

Just now I’m reminded of The Edge and how U2 became more electronic in the ’90s, only to go back to their classic sound forever after. It’s as if they regretted it. Do you think you must always return to your beginnings?
Sometimes you regret things because everyone criticized them harshly, but then you realize you were right, and others realize it too, and in the end it isn’t that bad. Perhaps that’s the case with U2. Or perhaps, to become who they are now, they had to do that. So it’s simply part of their process, and good for them for doing what they did. That’s why I don’t think one should truly regret those kinds of things. In reality, I don’t think anything is a grave misstep, as long as your creative life survives and you keep advancing your artistic path.

About U2, I can picture Bono saying, “let’s do this because everyone is doing it,” but Interpol isn’t that kind of band. No one can reinvent everything overnight. The only way to make a conscious change is to let this guy write a bass line and have Andrew Wyatt come along to help shape these songs.

There are many textures on the album, especially in “Bird and the Serpent,” “So Rides the Reindeer,” or the strings on “Ever the Actor.” Are those kinds of details your doing, or Andrew Wyatt’s?
In those cases, it’s mostly Andrew Wyatt, who adds flutes, keyboards, arrangements… Interpol had never really worked with a producer who was present from the very start. We’ve worked with engineers who also produce and bring a strong sonic element, but we’d never collaborated with a producer right at the beginning of the composing process. And with Andrew Wyatt it wasn’t that we knew exactly what to expect, because suddenly he might drop an oboe into a song, and that wasn’t something we were aiming for when we began working with him. It was more about letting the producer fulfill his real role: helping us explore a new method and letting him operate as producers do with bands—assisting us in shaping the collection of songs. Also, since Andrew Wyatt was a close friend of Daniel, Brad, and me, we felt comfortable taking that step and letting someone join the process in that role, being a good friend.

I had worked with him on a Banks & Steelz track called “Wild Season.” There I saw he was a total genius to have fun with. From day one on “Iron City,” when he added bells in the chorus with “ding, dong, bonking, bonking,” it sounded amazing. A fantastic melody. And thanks to that, I came up with a vocal idea for the chorus. He proved to be not only a musical collaborator but a strong presence, a friend, and a close ally who helped shape and unify the songs.

“I completely understand an artist who says: ‘I have to do something different.’ I respect that stance, but it’s not how we operate.”

My favorite track is “Enemy.” I love the choruses, but I don’t yet have the credits. Whose track is it? Is it a song you’re addressing yourself, or something like that?
It can be read that way… It’s my wife who sings, she also appears on the track “This Mirror Weighs a Ton” and she was on the previous album. And it isn’t because she’s my wife, but because I love how it sounds. She sings with a range that’s better than mine and corrects me. Her intonation is absolutely perfect. She has natural talent. “Enemy” is interesting for another reason: it’s the only Interpol track where Daniel wrote the vocal melody, by presenting the piano line. So I wrote the lyrics based on that.

So why this wife (Note: Juliet Seger-Banks) on this track, and not on others?
Sometimes it’s just something that comes to mind. When I started writing with her, it was often to add a layer an octave above where I was. I would bring her into demos after hearing her tune so well in the kitchen and I’d say, “She has excellent intonation! It sounds amazing!” It’s not so much that I want a female voice or specifically want it to be her, but I simply need a voice in that register.

The reason I trust my instinct completely when including my wife in the songs is that I don’t want her involved in every track. When I feel a part would benefit from a female voice, it’s because I know the result will be superb. “Enemy” wasn’t even a conscious choice based on the theme of the “enemy” or the duality between two people, but it worked wonderfully thanks to that yin and yang quality.

“Sometimes you regret things because everyone criticizes them harshly, but then you realize you were right, and others realize you were right too.”

Isn’t “See Out Loud,” sung in close quarters with Daniel, also a dialogue? I find it curious you mention him so much; I understood artists usually talk about themselves, but you mention Daniel a lot. That means you get along…
It’s more a group-collaboration, a back-and-forth directed toward the other side, almost rubbing up against some protesters, in a physical clash.

There’s a social thread in the lyrics, but it isn’t overt. The album officially centers on “being in denial” relative to reality, and on how we navigate reality. Which songs on the album address this?
Specifically? (think) “Wake Up,” “Ever the Actor,” “Enemy,” “Bird and the Serpent”…

What worries you?
I feel we’re witnessing the end of a world, and that’s terrifying. It feels like we’re at a funeral or a memorial. It’s important that we start taking a real stock of that culture of humanity that’s disappearing and won’t return. It’s disheartening that reality has become divided, fueled by politics—at least in the United States—or by those right-wing narratives that seem to be built on simply breaking reality, on saying things like “down is up.” That’s the situation. So many people now accept alternate realities and facts… I don’t know if there’s any real turning back, given the state of the world. It’s something we may have to bid farewell to, or head toward a catastrophe that restarts everything. But it’s a shame we’ve reached this point simply because of the disturbance suffered by a single individual.

There is a desire to honor the ways of communicating and sharing reality that we once had. It isn’t nostalgia to say we should keep a handle on those things, stored away so they don’t erode with time. We have a clear picture of life before you could no longer trust videos, before you didn’t know if some AI had altered them. Because, of course, they’ve altered all YouTube videos, even if ever so slightly, without anyone noticing. No one really knows what is real anymore.

“It’s a pity we’ve reached this point in history simply because of the disorder that a single individual suffers.”

It’s bleak where we could be headed in a few years. But you also mention New York, which can symbolize hope. What is “Iron City” about, and how do you see the city today?
I haven’t lived there since the pandemic. New York felt a bit like someone who stayed up all night: the next day the hair’s a mess, they’re spent, and you’re left thinking, “What the hell happened here?” After the pandemic, the city looked pretty rough for a while. But I feel it has really bounced back. On recent visits, I sense the energy is there, perhaps even stronger than ever. I like the social impact it’s creating. Lately, basketball games in New York have provided truly positive, hopeful moments that have fostered unity. It’s a great city, a symbol of the United States and what the country can become. I think New York is essential, and right now it’s in a good phase. So I see it as a very positive and encouraging sign.

“New York is a symbol of the United States and of what the country can become.”

I read that “This Mirror Weighs a Ton” was about the maniac in your head, and it made me wonder if masculinity might play a role.
Well, it depends on how you hear the word “maniac.” There was the line “She’s a maniac, a maniac” (he hums)

Touché!
I’m referring to that untamed, wild part of your soul that operates normally in day-to-day life but also harbors a facet capable of madness. Not in a negative sense, but simply something that heads in another direction, a kind of wild nature. Yes, I feel it’s fairly gender-neutral, or what you might call unisex. I wasn’t thinking of an axe-wielding killer.

“It’s worth highlighting Andrew Wyatt’s value in the studio—it’s a form of authentic beauty that you don’t always see in the world.”

Have you heard Andrew Wyatt’s more pop work with Charli XCX or Rosalía?
He’s also collaborated with Miley Cyrus. The guy is a genius.

Why are you so sure?
If you know him… it’s the way he talks about concrete things, a very special intelligence. And he’s incredibly funny. When you’re making music you can jump from A to F in a millisecond. I can reach F, but it might literally take me a month. And there are other people who play one thing, then another, and there it is. One of the things I loved about Andrew is how he understands microphones, how he mics drums to pull out a specific sound: he makes it feel more intuitive and less technical than others I’ve worked with. It’s a speedier, more spontaneous process, and the result is simply impressive.

If you listen to my solo albums, you’ll find some odd effects; I can generate ideas for dense, atmospheric, smoky sounds… and at the same time they can be deconstructed. But I can’t easily recreate what I hear in my head. On the other hand, you can sit behind Andrew for half an hour in the studio and watch incredible sounds emerge that he shapes into something extraordinary. Everything happens very fast, and it’s truly impressive. I think it’s worth highlighting, because it’s a form of authentic beauty that you don’t always see in the world.

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