First Listen:
Julian Plenti
‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’
(Matador)
Next up for the First Listen treatment – where we listen to a new album and give a track-by-track commentary on it as we listen – is the debut album from new Matador signing Julian Plenti. Well, sort of new signing – you see, there’s no mention anywhere on the press release that came with ‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’ that Julian Plenti has anything to do with Interpol or that Julian Plenti is, in fact, Interpol frontman Paul Banks. Before Banks joined Interpol in 1998, he gigged as Julian Plenti around New York but, with the four-piece’s rise to fame as the world’s favourite purveyors of new wave gloom-rock, it was put on hold until the band finished touring third album ‘Our Love To Admire’. It’s impossible for me to get through this First Listen without mentioned Banks or Interpol, however, especially when the songs come spiked with that voice. ‘…Is Skyscraper’ is a very different proposition to his dayjob though, making what’s essentially Banks’ solo album rank alongside Thom Yorke’s ‘The Eraser’ as one of the best side-project records we’ve heard in years…
‘Only If You Run’‘…Is Skyscraper’ starts off like all Interpol albums do – slowly creeping into life, dreamily narcotic from start to finish, Banks’ voice maintaining that solemn emotional detachment that he does best. Guitar parts overlap with each other, slowly turning up the tension in ‘Only If You Run’ ever-so-slightly. The immediate difference here is the production – it’s almost lo-fi in comparison to Interpol’s glacial perfection, suggesting that ‘Julian Plenti…’ might see Banks show us a vulnerability that he doesn’t get a chance to show us with his dayjob…
‘Fun That We Have’ “With all the fun that we have” goes the opening mantra to ‘All The Fun’ over chugging, fuzzy guitars, a new harmony added every time it’s sung. Banks’ voice is unmistakeable, guiding the melody in that slighty-pissed-off nonchalant tone of his, but ‘Fun That We Have’ is the first sign that ‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’ isn’t just Interpol cast-offs and half-finished ditties – ‘Fun That We Have’ is angular, goth-pop brilliance. The fact it doesn’t appear to have a discernable chorus doesn’t matter – the opening line is repeated throughout, guitars growling and synths sparkling around it, whilst the offbeat drums always threatening to march forward but, crucially, always holding back. Ace.
‘Skyscraper’The title-track (sort of) is plaintive, folky melancholia. Plucked, lonesome acoustic guitars start the song off, reminiscent of Arcade Fire’s ‘Neon Bible’, and are soon joined by darkly dramatic violins. The vocals don’t come in until the two-minute mark, and when they do, they hauntingly repeat the same line – “Shake me/Shake me/Skyscraper”; unsettling in their calculated, underwrought delivery. After all, if anyone knows how to do restrained, it’s Paul Banks. ‘Skyscraper’ is amongst the most beautiful pieces of music he’s ever produced - there’s intimate, human warmth somewhere in its dark heart.
‘Games For Days’Robotic drums – courtesy of Interpol sticksman Sam Fogarino – stomp alongside the palm-muted thrum of a solitary guitar in ‘Games For Days’, one of the few songs on here that could be an Interpol song, albeit stripped-down in a way that Interpol never will be. It’s impossible not to be blown away by the surging, seething chorus, driven by post-industrial guitars and Banks’ trademark acidic delivery. Four tracks in, ‘…Is Skyscraper’ is already better than the last Interpol album.
‘Madrid Song’Starting off with stark piano, ‘Madrid Song’ wouldn’t sound out of place on Mogwai’s ‘Come On Die Young’ album, excerpts of sampled text buzzing in and out of the song. ‘Madrid Song’ feels more like an interlude than an actual song. Like ‘Skyscraper’, the vocals are only one line repeated over and over, although fuck me if I can work out what Banks is saying…
‘No Chance Survival’Is that a… double bass?! Christ, what would Carlos Dengler say eh? ‘No Chance Survival’ is another downbeat, folky song on an album that veers from up-tempo angular art-rock to soporific vignettes. It’s eastern-European tinged middle section resembles Radiohead’s ‘Hail To The Thief’-era forays into outbreaks of pseudo jazz-euphoria. By the end, there’s so little going on around him, that Banks voice is laid bare, that hint of regret he constantly has not hidden or hazy for once. It’s songs like ‘No Chance Survival’, ‘Skyscraper’ and ‘Madrid’ that make you realise why he’s made this album – Interpol isn’t a viable outlet for them, and they deserve to be heard…
‘Unwind’ But then, Jesus, this sounds nothing like anything else on here and doesn’t sound like Interpol either. ‘Unwind’ is as upbeat as anything we’ve heard Banks do – a barrage of what sounds like Casio-brass parping triumphantly in its opening salvo. This sounds like Broken Social Scene making a pop song. A pop song in reverse, though, obviously; the chorus sees the whole thing breakdown, the song almost coming to a standstill, before the buccaneering kicks right back in, brass’n’all, for the verses. “I see your face and I let you own me” goes the main hook, which makes me think if this is the sort of music that Banks makes when he’s happy, then someone supply that man with CUDDLES.
‘Girl On The Sporting News’ Back with the string-sweeping lullaby whispers on ‘Girl On The Sporting News’, which seems to actually be about a girl. On the TV. Doing the sport news. This information filtered via Banks intonation, he sounds like Norman Bates watching Grandstand. The music is forlorn and stripped-down. So far every song sounds like a reaction to the last one, although the album flows perfectly…
‘On The Esplanade’Straight-arrowed folk on ‘On The Esplanade’, an acoustic guitar plucking below Banks’ bittersweet reflections. Other instruments only make fleeting appearances, echoed, delays provided by slide guitars and strings, which slowly build as the song comes to a close, the emotional resonance in Banks’ voice getting us all welled up.
‘Fly As You Might’ This sounds like a regular rock song. Sloooooowwweeedddd riiiighhht doooown. ‘Fly As You Might’ sees staccato guitars spar with shimmering, skyscraping soundscapes. The structure of ‘Fly As You Might’ is the oddest thing on ‘…Is Skyscraper’ – indeed, nothing on it sounds like it should be being played together until the middle section marches forward euphorically only, well, for the whole thing to fall apart again for the climax.
‘H’The album’s final track is the sort of twisted piano lick that could be a cousin of the ‘Halloween’ soundtrack. An instrumental, apart from a twisted, sampled voice that scared the shit out of me when I heard it on headphones, strings swell towards its ending, only to disperse as it reaches its close – like much of the album, when anything threatens to burst into anthemic predictability, it finishes.
‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’ could almost be two different albums – one with folky, Bon Iver-esque lullabies and one with upbeat art-rock stomps. Together, though, they make it a thrilling, hypnotic listen, one that gets us very excited for wondering what Interpol will do next, but at the same time in awe of this beautiful little sonic beast that Paul Banks has created all by himself.
And remember, this is just our reaction to hearing ‘Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper’ for the first couple of times - we’ll be reviewing it proper in the August issue of The Fly.
The Fly