‘Pioneer to the Falls’: the uncomfortable backstory to Interpol’s harrowing indie hit
Darkness has always been part of the brutalist sound of Interpol.
But usually it was filled with mystique and the light touch of hope too, honouring the mix of new starts and dismay amid the post 9/11 scene in New York City from whence they were borne. That’s certainly not the case with ‘Pioneer to the Falls’.
While the lyrics are typically ambiguous, the four word title alone hinted at a harrowing backstory behind the brooding hit. To those in the know, heading from The Pioneer to The Falls was a regular indie excursion. The two bars were firm favourites among fans of The Strokes and the likes during the 2000s.
These establishments were fixtures of a scene that helped to foster the likes of LCD Soundsystem, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV on the Radio. Drinks were cheap, and that’s often where you find good music in NYC. However, lyrics like, “For always and ever, I’ll never let go,” ominously imply that Interpol are talking about a darker side to evenings in the city.
The song’s sickening inspiration dates back to the year before its 2007 release. In February 2006, the scene was in the grips of fear after it was revealed that a criminology student had disappeared after drinking in The Falls. Her friends had headed home earlier in the evening, calling it a night at 3am in The Pioneer. They failed to follow her along to the next late night spot on the well-trodden indie crawl.
Tragically, her body would be found shortly after that fateful night on a dirt road on the outskirts of Brooklyn. An FBI profiler, Clint Van Zandt, would describe the scene as one of the most harrowing that had ever been uncovered, commenting, “Her murder was something out of Silence of the Lambs, but much worse if possible.”
After an unknown male, believed to be the killer, called the police from a diner to report a body lying by the roadside, authorities quickly located a brutalised, unclothed body. Wrapped in a cheap, flowery bed sheet lay the tortured remains of the missing student. A dirty sock had been stuffed into her mouth, and her head had been wrapped in packaging tape.
It appeared that she had been attacked, and that she had fought back against the assailant. This proved vital in helping to identify the bouncer at The Falls as being the disturbed culprit. An arrest was swiftly made, and a life in prison sentence soon followed. But the swiftness of justice failed to allay the shadowing impact that it had on the scene, clearly staining the conscience of Interpol as they crafted their third album, Our Love to Admire.
Much like this article, Paul Banks tactfully declined to name anyone directly in the song. Instead, he let the musical amalgamation serve as an apologue of the atrocious events – the beauty in the mix honouring the bright light that was snuffed out without reason, and the brooding gloom giving weight to the evil responsible.
“That could be interpreted as a way to say sorry, but to someone I’ve never met,” he told the Belgian publication, Humo. “It’s a very personal song, even though it’s about someone I’ve never met before. It’s pretty obvious who it is, but nobody seems to come up with it. Think about it very hard.”
However, fans from the scene quickly decoded his lyrics about a “dirt pile”, a person vanishing, and the utterly arresting closing line: “I felt you so much today.”
