So says Interpol frontman Paul Banks about the relationship among a group of guys as the quartet becomes a trio after a four-year hiatus

Paul Banks walks onto the deck of the Frying Pan, an antique ship that's now a floating bar and grill docked at a Hudson River pier on Manhattan's West Side. Smooth jazz plays in the background as he makes his way past plastic tables filled with stay-at-home dads nursing lunch-hour pints and tourists ­killing buckets of Corona and plates of soggy fries. "Let's sit in the sun," says Banks, wearing a backward baseball cap and blue suede Adidas sneakers. He settles into a portside chair and rummages around in a worn black gym bag for a pair of shades.

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