"I want to get back to that innocence," says Julian Velard. "When people were just making music and being great. I think it was sometime in the middle of 1974. Even though I wasn’t alive, I can tell it was a lot more fun back then."
The curly-haired native New Yorker invites you into his world, inspired by the escapism of movies like The Never Ending Story and Pee-wee’s Big Adventure, as much as the individuality of Tom Waits and Harry Nilsson. "It’s just music and movies," Julian says. "My whole trip." A firm believer that the musical experience is only truly transcendent once performer and audience connect, Julian’s live show is something once seen, never forgotten. Julian’s enviable songbook - vampy showtunes, spiritual think pieces, Friday night anthems - has already drawn comparisons with the 1970s highs scaled by Elton John and Stevie Wonder; singers who’ve endured precisely because they were true to themselves and refused to be defined by their times.
Born 28-years ago in Manhattan to a French immigrant computer whiz kid who designed the first ATM software (dad) and a singing cocktail waitress/ queen-sized legs model/ four-time winner of Jeopardy!(’America’s Favourite Quiz Show’) from Alabama (er, mom), it’s fair to say Julian was never destined for a desk job. While gigging his brains out, chalking up over "1,000 shows" in five years, Julian also supported himself via a succession of eccentrically diverse jobs that would give a Wes Anderson character pause for thought: teaching gym at pre-school "hung-over with hula-hoops," a stint in Paris sweeping streets for the sanitation department among them. After more than a few years toiling in obscurity, Julian was picked up by EMI by creating big noise on MySpace. Having approved of the UK’s "liberating vibe," Julian has made London his home, and is putting the finishing touches to his debut LP, due out this fall.
With a remarkable voice, Force 10 charisma and after-hours vibe standing him miles apart from the Blunts, Powters and Cullums of this world, Julian’s singular blend of skewed piano pop conspires to feel simultaneously classic and completely fresh. As he puts it, "Think of a Guys And Dolls-era musical staring Steve McQueen and Bill Murray, scored by Harry Nilsson, with Michael Jackson circa The Wiz and Taj Mahal singing all the songs. Pretty cool, huh?"
