Julian Plenti – Club Academy, Manchester 2/12/09

Best get it out of the way: no Interpol. Not in the gig, not at his DJ set afterwards. Despite repeated cries for ‘Take You On A Cruise’ from one desperate member of the audience, Paul Banks opted to use his Julian Plenti moniker to explore the new territory hinted at on this year’s Skyscraper record, with a few cover versions thrown in for good measure. The fact that he steered clear from the day job must’ve been as much down to respect for members of the band as it was due to the logistics doing so.

Whereas Interpol are all about the tremendous bassline riffs and soaring guitars, Julian Plenti is about subtle orchestration and tender introspection. That songs from the album don’t quite work on the stage is a testament to the magnitude of the work created, and there are few 5 man bands that would’ve been able to manage the scope of songs such as ‘On the Esplanade’. Though it works, much of the set feels more like a lighter version of the album rather than a live re-imagining of it, with Banks and co. having too use distortion and substitution to mimic all manner of other instruments absent from the gig.

What’s obvious is that this wasn’t an album intended to be performed in basement clubs. Much of the record is slow paced, and even the faster tracks still aren’t standard live fare. It’s not as if the band had any other option than to play introspective, ponderous material due to the thin layer of tracks stretched across an hour long set. Even ‘Skyscraper’ and experimental outro ‘H’ were trotted out, and though both are supreme tracks, they certainly come across as out of place. As a unit, Julian Plenti is… Skyscraper works to eerie perfection, but broken down to individual components and repackaged, it feels oddly disjointed. Banks’ decision to include a Pixies cover to pad out the set was bold and paid dividends, and no-one in attendance is likely to regard his interpretation of America’s ‘Horse With No Name’ as anything other than brilliant. Even the opening bars of ‘Let it Snow’ manage to sound haunting in his signature droll, but underlined the lack of real killer songs in the set.

Still, the crowd lap it up in fervour, and Banks himself appears to be enjoying himself. In stark contrast to the moody figure he cuts when on stage with Interpol, he embraces the release that a solo project grants. In person, the quality of his unique almost monotone style of singing is obvious, and the content of his lyrics never falls below sublime. Smiling throughout and constantly addressing the crowd, even taking the repetitive requests for Turn on the Bright Lights material, he looks like a man freed from the constraints of being in the best indie band of the 00’s. It’s not until the final track of the encore that he lets rips with single ‘Games for Days’, and it’s the perfect end for a performance that stuttered and threatened to let down, but was ultimately unforgettable.