Julian Plenti: Julian Plenti Is... Skyscraper

JULIAN PLENTI: JULIAN PLENTI IS... SKYSCRAPER (2009)

1) Only If You Run; 2) Fun That We Have; 3) Skyscraper; 4) Games For Days; 5) Madrid Song; 6) No Chance Survival; 7) Unwind; 8) Girl On The Sporting News; 9) On The Esplanade; 10) Fly As You Might; 11) H.

General verdict: A surprisingly decent stab at a singer-songwriter manifesto, though the lack of fresh ideas or attitudes blocks it from getting any higher.

So, let us approach this as logically as possible. «Julian Plenti» is really Paul Banks, whose full name is Paul Julian Banks and who had actually already used this pseudonym in his pre-Interpol days when he was still a solo acoustic player. Here, however, we also learn that Julian Plenti is «Skyscraper». Later on, in the title track we hear Paul Banks / Julian Plenti sing "shake me, shake me, skyscraper", literally implying that Paul Banks / Julian Plenti / Skyscraper is asking himself to shake him, which does not make much sense. From here on, we might proceed to the idea that Paul Banks, Julian Plenti, and Skyscraper are the same, yet not quite the same, in Holy Trinity mode: «Paul Banks» is the Father hypostasis, «Julian Plenti» is the Son, and «Skyscraper» the Holy Spirit. In that case, "shake me, skyscraper" should be taken as an analogy to the moment where the Holy Spirit descends upon the Son right after His baptism. See, weʼre getting into some truly serious shit here — and you thought this was just a forgettable solo album.

Complex and controversial interpretations aside, though, I must say that I was rather pleasantly surprised. The uninteresting voice, unconvincing lyrics, and unmoving ego of Paul Banks have always been one of the least attractive sides of Interpol — so a record where all these things would be brought way up front seemed like a nightmare to begin with. I did give it a chance nevertheless, and was surprised to find not a few decent melodies and occasionally moving atmospherics. As an artistic personality, «Julian Plenti» is really in no way different from the standard Interpol frontman — similarly moody, morose, and detached, combining unrealised romantic yearning with disillusioned cynicism on pretty much every track. But since he can no longer hide behind the powerful shoulders of his bandmates, he tries to compensate for this by adding extra elements of melody which, at the very least, make the individual songs stand out from one another and not converge into a single gray mass of moping.

These elements arenʼt particularly awesome or original: thus, ʽOnly If You Runʼ, the albumʼs opening number, begins with a painfully familiar intro riff (think the Yardbirdsʼ ʽHeart Full Of Soulʼ), then becomes the Pixiesʼ ʽWhere Is My Mindʼ for a moment, and later on sort of exploits the nagging one-note riff of Status Quoʼs ʽPictures Of Matchstick Menʼ — hardly intentionally, but just to give you an idea of the neural activity of Paul Banks / Julian Plenti / Skyscraper during the creative process. Yet it is not a bad song: the decisive intonation of the lyrics combines quite nicely with the plodding distorted bass line, and there is something truly genuine about how the final stop is placed with "...and you will make it... but only if you run". Moreover, the mix of instruments, in which the bass wail, the guitar jangle, and the atmospheric synthesizers never overshadow each other, to me actually seems more colorful than the majority of Interpol songs, though I do not qualify this as anything other than a fleeting impression.

Several of the tracks are pure mood pieces, whose main purpose seems to create an atmosphere of powerless self-empowerment — ʽMadrid Songʼ, for instance, with its burning-embers feel and the endlessly repeated "come have at us, we are strong", delivered in a rejectedly dying voice; or the title track itself, one of the few here to give us a glimpse of the original Julian Plenti (because of the acoustic guitar track) while at the same time borrowing some ideas from contemporary classical. I mean, it could possibly be confused with a Jonny Greenwood soundtrack outtake, or taken for an exercise of a pop-minded Górecki disciple — at the very least, it sounds nothing like an Interpol track, and given my usual thoughts on Interpol, it is more of a compliment than a criticism. Though I certainly cannot say to be a big fan of this minimalist brand, either.

Oddly enough, I think the soft ballads on this album are better than Banksʼ attempts to rock out without his buddies — something like ʽGames For Daysʼ is just a fairly generic indie-rock track with the same kiddie-chainsaw-buzz as characterizes the least impressive Interpol tracks, but something like ʽNo Chance Survivalʼ, seductively sharing its guitar tone with Radioheadʼs ʽNo Surprisesʼ, has a somewhat unusual balance between instrumental and vocal melody, generating a feeling of warmth and friendliness that, unfortunately, dissipates once the song picks up steam and truly begins to attempt sounding like a spaced-out outtake from OK Computer, but happily comes back at the end. ʽOn The Esplanadeʼ is another highlight, though, given the similarity of the guitar patterns, I think Iʼd rather hear it performed by Leonard Cohen (even if Paul Banks has a long, long way to go to match Leonardʼs amazing word games).

In the end, it all boils down to limited talent — the intelligence and ambition are there, but the spiritual energy of «Skyscraper», no matter how hard he shakes down Julian Plenti, just isnʼt enough to make this whole thing qualify as a significant singer-songwriter achievement for the 2000s. It is perfectly listenable, though, and it almost makes me sad to see Banks going from this semi-successful exercise to the musical platitudes that would dominate Interpolʼs next album, but what is there to do? Apparently, Skyscraper and Interpol really donʼt like each other.