8 p.m. Wednesday, August 1. The Pageant, 6161 Delmar Boulevard.

Now that there are approximately 4,197 bands that sound more like Joy Division than Interpol does, the relentlessly dapper and dramatic New York City quartet has relatively little to worry about — save for making great albums. And the band quite often kisses greatness, if not fully embraces it, on its just-released third disc (and Capitol Records debut), Our Love to Admire. Like F. Scott Fitzgerald's real dark night of the soul, it's always three o'clock in the morning in Interpol's world; Paul Banks' brooding tenor and blurry lyrics, and all the gorgeously thick, portentously elegant guitar textures and grooves see to that. The occasional blast of strings and horns boosts the epic quality of their music, sometimes to the point of celebrating the oncoming dawn, but one imagines that live, Interpol still paints it black.

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