Paul Banks: Live Review

 

The dark upstairs room of Sound Control seems fitting for Paul Bank’s solo gig. The low lighting is punctuated with bright streaks of light and massive, overbearing speakers hang from the ceiling.

Support band, the Neighbourhood (pleasantly spelt with an English ‘u’ despite being from California) swagger onto the stage. Their presence is moody and the subdued lighting suits them well. Ethereal verses give way to their chugging, bass laden choruses.  Vocals switch between the distant wails through radio static to the soulful chorus lines, sprinkled with carefully thought out harmonies. New song ‘Afraid’ will be one to look out for on their upcoming album. It has been a while since I’ve seen a support put on such an impressive display.

Paul Banks takes the stage and someone behind me whispers ‘…and in a suit no less!’ The standard Interpol attire has naturally made it into his solo shows.

I’m not sure what I was expecting of Paul Banks physically, but he’s much smaller in real life and he doesn’t speak as he sings. Nevertheless, when he does sing, the voice is exactly what you came to hear. Cold, clinical, snide and sarcastic, its chilling effect is instant. So, after the near instrumental of opener Skyscraper, the bitterness of ‘Fun that We Have’ and ‘Sue You’ shove a massive grin on my face.

Banks has always sounded a little unhinged, whether singing about a lifespan with no cellmate or his slightly disturbing friend Roland and it’s nice to see that this hasn’t dissipated with his solo works. The calm assuredness with which Banks sings ‘I’ll sue you, I’ll sue you, I’m suing you’, as though this were a commonplace course of action shows that he has not lost his taste for absurd offhand lyrics.

Musically, his sensibilities have changed slightly, leaning closer to energetic rock-outs than the restrained instrumental builds of Interpol. ‘Goodbye Toronto’ and ‘Fly as You Might’ as well as lead single ‘Sue You’ utilise overdriven guitars for a main riff and input more straightforward solos into the mix. The unexpected melodic changes and tempo switches of old also make it in, but without the inventive bass work of Carlos D, these moments often lack impact.

Consequently, Banks’ songs often fade into one another, leaving a homogeneous gloop of moody vocals over effect laden guitars and synths. Despite the valiant efforts, tempo changes and instrumental breaks echoing the vocal melody do little to help the matter and by the end of the set, several of the closing songs are distinguishable only by their titles and the odd change in instrumental timbre.

Whilst Banks’ solo efforts were unlikely to live up to the power and originality of Intepol’s earlier albums, I was hoping to leave at least a little re-invigorated by Banks’ growth as a solo artist. As such it’s disappointing that my memory of The Neighbourhood will probably stick with me much longer than Bank’s set.

They were an excellent support, though.