When I first heard this album, I was eighteen and leaving home to attend a university in the middle of a farming community found in a valley many drove through. I loved Our Love To Admire when I first heard it and fondly remember singing along to No I In Threesome whilst decorating my residence room –Babe, it’s time we give something new a try/Oh, alone we may fight, so just let us be free tonight. It’s still the sweetest song I have ever heard about broaching the topic of a three-way and Banks’s vocals are especially good on it. I was enamoured with Interpol by this time, as I gradually found more people who had heard of them. If you only go to university so you can find people who share the same music taste you do, I won’t judge you. Musical debate is the best kind.
The sense of a band making the Big Push is inescapable throughout Our Love to Admire. You could never accuse Interpol of changing their approach in the hope of ensnaring a bigger audience. Virtually everything present on their previous albums is in evidence here, including the sharp, thin guitar lines, the moody washes of synthesiser and the vocals of Paul Banks, who admittedly sounds less like he's trying to flog you a universal degreaser and limescale remover than the guy from Editors, but still relies largely on rendering Ian Curtis's idiosyncratic styling down to a stentorian bellow. Nevertheless, it has all been given an expensive-sounding refit by Muse's producer, Rich Costey. Everything booms and echoes as if it's already being played in a stadium.
Daniel Kessler's guitar really shines on first single 'Heinrich Maneuver', an insolent riff buzzing excitedly around Banks's gloating kiss-off to an ex-girlfriend, the band coming to a heart-stopping pause before segueing dramatically into a final chorus. The song is typical in its prickly sentiments - if Antics dared to dream of romantic love and escape, Our Love To Admire is a cocksure declaration of self-sufficiency.