BNQT at The Borderline, London: Rock 'supergroup' makes for an enjoyable live experience

Eric Pulido (left) and Alex Kapranos. Like most ‘rock supergroups’, BNQT are host to self-indulgence, rampant egos and creative conflict – but in a good way (Kendall Wilson)

“I hope you’re having as much fun as we are,” beams Eric Pulido, the bandleader of new rock supergroup BNQT (pronounced “banquet”). He gets an enthusiastic response, but it’s a fair question.

With a few notable exceptions – CSNY, or more recently, The Dead Weather, or Atoms for Peace – “rock supergroup” can be synonymous with self-indulgence, tussling egos, and creative crisis. All are pertinent tonight – but in a good way.

Pulido’s core band, gifted Texas folk-rockers Midlake, fell apart in 2013 after lead singer-songwriter Tim Smith departed while recording fourth album, Antiphon. Pulido hired new hands – keyboardist Jesse Chandler, guitarist Joey McClellan and drummer McKenzie Smith (all here tonight) – and cobbled together a refitted Antiphon from what Smith left behind.

Following the classic albums The Trials of Van Occupanther and The Courage of Others, Antiphon was a disappointing release, put out amid saddening circumstances for band and fan alike. It’s therefore hard to begrudge Pulido the impulse to approach some of his favourite singer-songwriters – Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos, Travis’s Fran Healy, Band of Horses’ Ben Bridwell (elsewhere this evening) and Grandaddy’s Jason Lytle – for fresh ideas. The first track played tonight – written by Pulido – the chugging, T. Rex-ish “Restart”, sums up his spirit of adventure: “We could all use a restart, but what does that mean?”

If the question is tinged with self-doubt, the results aren’t. Rebooting has produced an excellent album, Vol 1, on which each singer has written and performed two songs. It also delivers a very enjoyable live experience, in which tracks from that record are mixed in with songs from the singers’ own groups, and great Tom Petty (”I Won’t Back Down”) and Beatles (”Revolution”) covers. Part of the fascination of the songs and the band live are the contrasts between Healy and Kapranos and the Americans. It’s frankly heartening to see the singer from one of the most critically derided, unhip but enormously successful pop bands, the UK has produced, Travis, being invited to the muso feast.

The tiny Healy, now with greying man-bun, injects puckish humour and cheesy pop-star frivolity into what could’ve been a beard-stroking love-in, baiting Grandaddy’s irascible front man with dry sarcasm, which even cracks a few smiles from the grouchy critics’ darling.

They briefly lock horns after a stomping performance of Travis’s hit “Sing” (canonised for eternity by Glen Campbell). “Man, I listened to that album for two years straight,” Lytle quips in mock-admiration for The Invisible Band, a record ubiquitous on the airwaves more than a decade and a half ago. “Do you even know what it’s called?” Healy pokes back. But it’s all good-natured. Hearing Midlake act as the fanboy house band for this song and “Why Does It Always Rain on Me?” is actually quite stirring.

Kapranos, meanwhile – hair as silver as Healy’s, lustrous and long – strikes indie-Elvis moves and louches with camp menace during his two contributions, “Hey Banana”, which sounds like a Doors-y lost “Love” outtake, and the song which sounds best here, the Sparklehorse-like "Fighting the World". (Alongside FFS, Franz Ferdinand’s long-running collaboration with Sparks, this is Kapranos’s second supergroup.) Both songs veer the most from his bandmates’ Seventies-rock template. The whole band’s cover of Franz Ferdinand’s "Take Me Out" provokes a loud singalong. The Americans return the transatlantic favour homages to one British band in particular, ELO, on Lytle’s "100 Million Miles" and "Pulido’s Real Love". He’s described the band as a ‘poor man’s Travelling Wilburys’ , but this gaggle of ageing heroes make for an entirely pleasant evening.