Interpol

Joy Division comparisons have trailed Interpol ever since the release of their acclaimed debut, Turn on the Bright Lights, a spellbinding fireworks display of prickly post-punk chords, lock-groove rhythms, and lip-quivering free verse. While it's a fitting reference point, there's much more to the N.Y.C. four-piece than icy Ian Curtis allusions and an overwhelming sense of impending doom. Thanks to the band's democratic foundation — four equally important type A personalities with very different listening habits — Interpol's attempted (and pulled off) everything from moonlit pop ("NYC," "Pioneer to the Falls") to restless rock 'n' roll ("The Heinrich Maneuver," "Obstacle 1")…

Not to mention wildly creative, club-ready remixes of their own material, as revealed in our Next Steps along with a handful of solid album selections.

When it comes to creative control, Interpol takes everything seriously: their debonair demeanor, art house-schooled music videos, simple but sleek record sleeves, and an ever-evolving songwriting process. And then there are the remixes that dot their discography, something most rock bands don't think twice about. Aside from carefully selecting the occasional commissioned cut (Arthur Baker's disco ball-stomping "Obstacle 1" edit, Britt Daniel's drum-centric "Slow Hands" mix), the band has also filled an entire EP with in-house treatments. Listening is like an all-access pass to the individual (and, sometimes, contradictory) thought processes that go into an Interpol song, from Paul Banks' stark, haunting rendition of "NARC" to Sam Fogarino's dance floor-detonating "Length of Love" remix (featuring Bob Mould of Hüsker Dü).

Interpol's recent move to a major label (from Matador — the home of Pavement and Cat Power — to Capitol, the home base of Coldplay and Lily Allen) wasn't so much a surprise as a natural next step, what with their audience's steady growth since 2002. Few could have predicted their upgrade to Madison Square Garden status in 2007, though. Actually, who are we kidding? These guys have sounded and looked stadium-sized since their early days on New York's club circuit — basking their immaculately tailored suits in blood red lighting; rich, layered riffs; and ear-engulfing reverb effects. None of which appears too esoteric or easy. More like a middle ground between the loose-limbed playing of punk and the calculated chords of the classically trained — something that can be appreciated by hard-nosed critics, casual listeners, and, well, Joy Division fans.