Being the fan of a band is similar to being in a serious long-term relationship.

In both scenarios, everyone goes through times when things are excellent, as every breath you take is spent praising your lover's name - while some days you want as little to do with the band as possible.

And as with all relationships, both sides must grow together. It is often imperative that a band grows, matures and changes its sound in order to keep the relationship with the listener fresh, unpredictable and new. If the band fails to do that, it can quickly lose its fanbase and critical acclaim.

I first met the New York City quartet, Interpol, in 2002 with its debut album "Turn on the Bright Lights." It was an excellent reimagination of the dreary post-punk sound pioneered by bands like Joy Division and Echo and the Bunnymen, and it remains one of the best albums of this decade.

Interpol's follow-up album, "Antics," was released in 2004; it wasn't much of a departure from its predecessor, but it demonstrated the band's growth as musicians. "Antics" also proved Interpol was still the best band in a sea of imitators that flooded onto the market after Interpol (and its sound) gained notoriety.

Now it is 2007, and my relationship with Interpol is going on five years.

"Our Love to Admire," the band's third album - and first for major label Capitol Records - seems to sound like a band that is unsure of how it should evolve musically.

Interpol uses many of the same techniques it has on previous albums (see single "The Heinrich Maneuver"), but by now, those tricks are beginning to wear thin. The very things that made Interpol charming are now beginning to grate, and I wonder if the band has exhausted any viable ideas. Interpol's songs are still full of down-strummed guitar lines, a heavy reliance on the rhythm section and lead singer Paul Banks' arcane poetry.

However, Interpol is very consistent: the by-the-numbers songs are quite good technically - the band does what it knows how to do well - and there are enough new ideas to keep the album interesting.

The album opens, as all Interpol albums have, with a grand opening statement, and on this album it is the majestic "Pioneer to the Falls."

It starts with a simple, jangly guitar line by Daniel Kessler before Banks enters with some of the most beautiful singing of his career. Then the booming combination of Carlos D's bass and Sam Fogarino's kick-drum completes the song, as the ballad grandly plods along on the excellent interaction between the four members.

By the second song, "No I in Threesome," the band's slightly updated sound becomes more salient. The most obvious change is in the production. The problem is that Banks' vocals and Kessler's guitar are so high in the mix that the rhythm section becomes lost and is relegated to the background. This is particularly detrimental for two reasons.

First, the band loses its signature sound with the less defined bass and drums. Second, Paul Banks can have some real lyrical clunkers. At best, his lyrics are cryptic and mysterious, but at worst, they sound like bad seventh-grade poetry. Without the prominent rhythm section, when Banks lets loose a lyrical bomb, it is naked - the bass and drums no longer create an atmosphere that let even the most obtuse lines sound mystifying.

The band also has begun to write songs on keyboard and piano. It is good to hear the inclusion of these new instruments, but many times the piano lines can't be heard through the sound of the rest of the band. One significant example is the beautiful ballad "Rest My Chemistry." I didn't even realize there was piano until I listened to the song on headphones. The track would have been much more poignant had the keyboard countermelody been more prominent.

Interpol shines during the final two tracks of the album. Penultimate track, "Wrecking Ball," is a subdued song that slowly builds to a climax before fading out with gently strummed guitar, restrained orchestral flourishes and subtle backwards-looped vocals.

"The Lighthouse" is perhaps the best track on the album. It consists solely of guitar strumming that ebbs and flows while Banks sings about the tide hitting the shores of a beach below a lighthouse. It is the best composed song that Interpol has perhaps ever created - its atmospherics perfectly echo and supplement the lyrics. The song is absolutely heart wrenching.

"Our Love to Admire" is not a bad album - it is simply Interpol's weakest offering to date with a couple of mediocre songs mixed with plenty of good and a few great tracks. The album offers enough interesting moments to warrant keeping my relationship with the band steady. It will be up to the future to determine how closely I follow Interpol - if the band continues to do little to change its sound, it might be time for me to abandon the band, but "Our Love to Admire" offers enough solid moments to justify staying with Interpol for the time being.