Jim: Noir Half Bad

Every aspiring artist claims fame won't change them and that they'll stay true to their roots. But what if you created 2005's most sumptuously soulful record; what if one of your songs has been selected as the soundtrack to a multi-national brand's advertising campaign; and what if almost every music journalist considers you the UK's equivalent to a mercurial Beach Boy? Surely then, no matter how veracious the intention, fame will devour you in the end.

Not, apparently, if you're Jim Noir – creator of the delectably delicious 'Tower of Love' and soon to be stratospheric superstar (thanks to Eanie Meanie's global commercialisation). Rather than wholeheartedly swallowing a life full of blood-sucking fashionistas, this artist prefers to sip from the enriching chalice that music has to offer.

For Jim, transfixing a gleaming grin on his audience is as important as front page notoriety is to those attention-seeking rock stars that spend their days chasing dragons and sleeping with supermodels: "Where I am at the moment feels exactly like home," the monotonic Mancunian tells The Skinny as we catch up with him backstage at one of The Venue's last gigs. "It's just good to know that people are enjoying the record - although I'm not exactly sure why they do."

Having written and produced an album as vivacious as 'Tower Of Love', it's perplexing to find Jim in such melancholic spirits. But his unease with the spotlight and lack of self-glorification bear the hallmarks of a musician who has endured the un-porcelain bottom of the music industry's toilet circuit: "I was on the dole after I left college and just bummed about trying to play my music somewhere," he says forlornly. "Its not something that I ever want to get back into – I still find myself growling as I go past the dole office."

With his intricate sense of melody it's unlikely Jim will be signing on to anything other than bulging record contracts in the future, but how did he manage to conjure up such sun-drenched symphonies in the perennially dank climate of Manchester? "I guess it was a warped reaction to my surroundings," says the spectrally tanned singer, "I produced the entire record in my grotty little bedroom at home. I don't really like the sun, I'm much more comfortable with grey skies – it seems to suit my song writing."

Noir's bleak exterior contradicts the endless stream of Brian Wilson comparisons he's collected but, fitting with his placid persona, such high acclaim doesn't overly trouble him: "It's flattering [to be compared to him] but it's just lazy journalism really," he says teasingly. "I prefer the comparisons to the Beta Band as it's closer to what I do. I'm really more influenced by the likes of The Beatles and Warp Records."

With such diverse influences Noir's follow up to 'Tower Of Love' should be a distinctly dichotomous affair, particularly with the welcome return of one of Manchester's most enigmatic drummers: "[The next record] will definitely sound a lot more electronic," he enthuses, "but it will keep an element of pop – only a little more twisted and gritty. I'm hopeful Reni (ex-Stone Roses) will be playing drums on it too. I see him about Manchester and he's up for being involved – which is madness to me."

Positive news it would seem – particularly for those who mourned the demise of the fishing-hat loving percussionist – but with his new found status and celebrity collaborations is Jim really maintaining his down-to-earth demeanour? "I think I'm just continuing to do what I've always done," he says, before mischievously pronouncing: "But in America I did end up in a hotel bedroom with Billy Bragg and KT Tunstall – which, you could say, was interesting."