(((O))) Live: Plini – O2 Academy, Islington

There’s a standout moment tonight when Plini starts playing the catchy, palm-muted guitar melody for ‘Impulse Voices’, one of his bigger songs, and the crowd starts gleefully singing along, then rocking out as that melody comes in later as a heavy riff. It helps me to appreciate that Plini is a songwriter, and a band, not just a guitar hero. The set tonight is not just a medley of clever parts: these are strong compositions, built on melody and harmony, rather than a collection of interesting techniques. It’s this song-craft, combined with the ability to convey genuine emotion and passion through the music, that makes this show such a success.  

The Intersphere. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

There’s a shed-load of feeling in The Intersphere’s set too. As collaborators with Plini on the emo-trip-hop of recent single ‘Ghost Train, they’re perfectly chosen as support tonight, sounding something like Plini would if he incorporated earnest, soaring vocal lines into his intricate guitar narratives. Musically, I’m immediately drawn to their combination of lumbering djent riffs, moody post-rock textures, and proggy time signatures. We get some incredibly dexterous, math rock guitar passages interspersed with the warm enveloping heaviness of modern doom. While – like Plini – this feels like a guitar show, The Intersphere are built upon a fine rhythm section. Their bass-player has the perfect tone – well-rounded, gritty but full of detail – and his hammer-on riffs receive constant praise, while their drummer is full of character as he locks the grooves in super tight.  

The Intersphere’s vocals are heavily stylized and distinctive. All three members are involved at points, achieving soaring choral peaks, and clearly fuelled by genuine emotion. Their front man has at least three modes: his very clean, near-falsetto; a fast, chatted, almost rapped delivery; and, occasionally, quite a fearsome growl. The combination is compelling, and delivered live with great skill and passion, but is sometimes a little too commercial a style for my tastes.  

The Intersphere delivered a set full of power and songcraft which makes it clear they can smash headline sets of their own. My favourite parts are when they get us dancing, with choppy rhythms, reminiscent of catchy indie of the early noughties, such as on tracks like ‘Who Likes to Deal with Death?’ It gets our bodies moving in preparation for some of Plini’s equally groovy material later on; and I’m feeling truly energised by the time Plini and his band take the stage. 

Plini. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

‘The Red Fox’ makes for a moody choice of opener, kicking things off with a dexterous bass groove and a brief drum solo before we get our first taste of Plini’s abilities and he starts laying down those perfectly articulated runs. Plini looks so pleased to be here, bearing a big, beaming smile throughout the show. And he’s certainly in good humour, playing ‘I’ll Tell You Someday’ and ‘Papeilillo’ before announcing that it’s “Time for a speech”, and launching into a parody of someone’s dad clumsily dropping an awkward wedding speech to a cringing family. 

“Now we’re gonna play a bunch of songs. . .” The next track ‘ Moonflower’ certainly has it all for me: super technical riffs, machine-gun tightness, beautiful jazzy chord progressions and beatific melodic ascensions. Plini’s second guitarist, Jake Howsam Lowe, certainly deserves a mention; not just “keeping up” with Plini himself, he’s integral to the sound and the harmony – and their stage interactions look pleasurable, if earnest, as they communicate decisions mid-song.  

Jake Howsam Lowe. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland

I must admit I thought this show would involve a lot more focus on sheer guitar nerdery and I’d never anticipated it all feeling so uplifting and joyful. At one point Plini calls for a circle pit, with an ironic smile on his face, and the crowd actually forms one – or something like it. It becomes the world’s happiest and most polite “circle pit”, which looks more like one big hug, and continues throughout ‘The Glass Bead Game’, ‘Cascade’ and ‘Paper Moon’. And it’s on that last track that Plini proves that they can deliver what we expect from progressive metal whilst keeping the vibe so fun and optimistic.  

At some point during the last section of the show Plini announces that we’re going to “spend some time with John” which becomes a euphemism for sliding some tenor sax into the proceedings. No one asked for this, but no one complained either. The finale, therefore, uses something akin to an 80s’ rom-com sex montage soundtrack as a platform for the inevitable band shred-off section, book-ended by free-form, prog-metal jazz odyssey. There are absurd levels of brassy smoothness in the solos, which gain sax guy a lot of applause – and presumably romance too. 

Plini is full of soul; that’s the key point for me. I expected a big guitar show and certainly got one, but we got much more than that. Personally I’d take one phrase from a Plini song over a whole album by some of the more self-indulgent shredders out there. There’s feeling and emotion in every note, even as he’s leaning over to discuss something with his guitarist mid-song. Every note is articulated so soulfully, so distinctly, that it genuinely feels like he’s talking to you with his instrument. And, accompanied by a similarly tasteful and talented band, it’s this combination that makes a Plini show such a joyous and elevated experience.   

Plini. Photo: Talie Rose Eigeland