Making an album sound waterlogged is not an aesthetic. Paul Banks’ voice sounded gargled when he opened his throat on the hooks, and sometimes Daniel Kessler’s guitar notes puttered out as if it’s him who doesn’t realize he has to really press those guitar strings against the fretboard. It sounds like producer Dave Fridmann was working against the band’s interest. But in a way, Marauder’s failings were more frustrating because they can’t be compartmentalized as the trio simply tripping over themselves. You can reason with many of Interpol’s misses every band loses steam at some point.

“ The Rover” was fine, too, although the album it was on, last year’s Marauder-a loose concept album about saying goodbye to the band’s heyday in the early aughts-was less so. Even their self-titled record’s “ Barricade” might stick if you let it. Every album after 2007’s Our Love to Admire, when they stopped being a fascination of indie culture writ large, does have a couple of straightforward thrillers on them. Interpol’s brilliance comes in sparks these days.