The concert was recorded by BBC Radio 1 for their In Concert Series.
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Hardbody / Silver Sun
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ONCE one of Britain’s biggest bands, James now find themselves in somewhat reduced circumstances. At the dawn of the decade they seemed poised to become an English U2 or R.E.M., with a string of memorable hits and an enviable live reputation.
Since then, though, the Mancunian seven-piece have been steadily drifting away from the Zeitgeist. They tired of writing stadium- friendly anthems based around simple three-chord sequences, choosing instead to dabble in amorphous ambient rock and fluid polyrhythms. Singer Tim Booth flirted with acting and spent time in New York, where he recorded a likeable album with soundtrack maestro Angelo Badalamenti last year.
But, back on tour after a three-year hiatus, Booth’s studious and occasionally precious demeanour appears somewhat ill-suited to our post-Oasis rock climate. At their two-thirds full Newport Centre show on Sunday night, James struggled to match past triumphs with lumpy readings of such former classics as Come Home and How Was It For You?
The most warmly received numbers from the band’s latest Top Ten album, Whiplash , were those which evoked their catchy singalong past, including Avalanche and the recent single She’s a Star . But the set’s more left-field mid-section proved something of an endurance test, compelling much of the largely over-thirties crowd to slip out and phone their babysitters.
At their best, James appear to summon up tumultuous natural forces and ride the crests of roaring tidal waves. Such transcendent moments were few at Newport, though they eventually arrived as the set climaxed with the lusty gallop of Laid and the soaring swell of Sound . The inevitable grand finale was Sit Down , once so powerful that James stopped playing it to avoid the chaotic Pavlovian response it inspired. Tellingly, nobody sat down at Newport, the song provoking a ripple of nostalgic hysteria.
Still impressively wiry and energetic after nearly 15 years in pop, James have embraced their late thirties with style. It is just their music which seems to be developing middle-aged spread.
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Hello again, I’ve come down to earth a bit since last week – but only just. I’m now floating several inches above the carpet. However, I’ve put my heads together and come to a decision.
With all these gigs going on all over the shop, life has been getting somewhat hectic. This column has degenerated into a shopping list. Not my shopping list of course, because I don’t believe in the things. I just copy the person with the trolley infront, it’s far easier. I just hope their not out shopping for Bonzo again, that Pedigree Anyway, what I was trying to say is that this week I’ve decided to home in on one gig and this week’s gig of the week is James at Middlesbrough Town Hall, a most prestigious affair indeed. Hardboby filled the first support slot. They’re no strangers to Middlesbrough having played recently at the Arena. Once again they really impressed with their big, big sound. A strikingly beautiful singer, with a strikingly odd haircut and a strikingly A slither of jazz and a splash of blues from the trombone and the trumpet. Carmel summed them up perfectly “Garbage in the style of James Bond”.
Shaken not stirred. Silver Sun are another band who’ve darkened these shores a good many times of late. Pretty lucky for us really because they’re a marvellous act. To the left of the stage the introverted guitarist stands hunched up twitching violently. His extravagant fringe flopping over his frets as he petulently plucks at the strings between sudden, spasmodic bursts of ego and extravagance manifesting themselves. In the centre the singer/guitarist dressed in bowling shirt and US college nerd specs, jerks across the floor as if receiving volleys of electricity through his guitar. Silver Sun blast their way through a set of velocity guitar punk but the twist is in the high kicking Beach Boys harmonies. Straight off the Californian beaches and repackaged with attitude. Middlesbrough Town Hall lapped it up and wanted more.
We thought they’d gone for good but James have bounced back. The recent single She’s a Star sounded like a familiar old friend and three years since they were last in town James were back to their finest, new fiddly guitarist or not. They powered on with a biggy Come Home. The whirly keyboards drew vocalist Tim Booth into a dervish special. Arms swirling above his head and body bending like a rubber man. Behind the band several suspended discs took the full brunt of the psychedelic storm. Meanwhile the band beat on, climbing to altitude for the silkiest of chorus lines. The set was a composite of old and new. You could instantly tell the difference, as 1200 people mouthed along to every single word of their favourites. Judging by some of the night’s power plays, the new album Whiplash should be fairly splendid. Old or new, no matter, the applause was frenzied and wrenched from the heart, often spontaneously breaking out before the songs were even completed. When the time came for the final encore the choice was inevitable. Put it this way no-one, but no-one at all was sitting “that” song out. To be totally honest I was never really a great fan of James – but after this gig I’m going to have to seriously reconsider.
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Hardbody / Silver Sun
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See attached press clippings.
No rational being can deny that Woodstock II was an ugly marketing scam that took in far more suckers than the precious event for which it was named. But through a circuitous route, it actually helped James. At the time, though, no one in the Manchester sextet knew it. All they understood was that, riding the success of their 1993 album Laid, they were were suddenly minus one founding member of 11 years’ standing, guitarist Larry Gott. “That forced the brakes,” understates Jim Glennie, bassist and another charter James member. “It wasn’t an easy time, obviously.”
While the remnant of James tried to decide what to do, lead singer Tim Booth took time off to work with composer Angelo Badalamenti. The results came out as the seriously odd Booth and the Bad Angel. For the hell of it, James released Wah Wah, a double-album collection of improvised ideas Brian Eno had encouraged them into while they were recording Laid. Gradually, normal work resumed.
“We needed this break,” Glennie says. “We were careering at a ridiculous pace toward a brick wall,and something a lot worse would have happened. It’s given us the enthusiasm back.”
Their latest album, Whiplash, also restores a sense of grandeur. Laid, the album that broke the band in America, was ironically constructed on a smaller scale than either the band or American radio listeners were accustomed to. But a two-year learning process allowed James plenty of time to work back toward epic heights.
“We’ve needed this break,” Glennie says. “We were basically chopping up, sticking together, throwing ideas down, finding the best identity for a song. The process is quite time-consuming. We’re bloody-minded; we like to make things difficult for ourselves.”
Difficult for them, not for the listener. Without pandering to some imagined demographic, Whiplash is as friendly as a big rock album can be. The dramatic sweeping wave of “Tomorrow,” the easy roll of “Lost a Friend,” the fey charm of “She’s a Star”: all catch the ear, and Booth acknowledges his vocal limitations even as he gently prods it to the edge.
In songs like the clattering “Go To The Bank” and the jungle-derived chorus of “Greenpeace,” James push against the conventional pop and rock combinations. (The use of dance forms in mainstream pop/rock was first widely heard on U2’s Zooropa. With a mild dash of pique, Glennie points out that while Zooropa was released first, Wah Wah was actually recorded first.) In England, distinctions between styles — rock vs. techno, band vs. computer — are starting to dissolve, and James take advantage of that.
“Boundaries, not just music but the audiences, are getting blurred, Glennie noted. “Segregating things gets a bit silly. Technology brings a whole new music to explore. It opens the door of how you can approach your songs. You’ve still got to go in there and be creative.”
James were fortunate in the creative regard. They snagged producer Stephen Hague who, as producer for Pet Shop Boys and New Order, had already shown flair for electronic sounds. And Eno periodically wandered in to mess around and make suggestions.
“Eno didn’t want to baby-sit the album,” Glennie says. “Hague was the foil he needed. Hague will happily stew over a mixing desk doing the bulk of the donkey work. Very meticulous. And he had always wanted to work with Brian Eno, so we were really spoiled with two brilliant producers.”
In the interim, Booth and Glennie had mainly been concerned with convincing the rest of James to stick around. A new guitarist had to be recurited, and meanwhile, three band members who were still considered “new boys” (after eight years) had to be made to feel at home.
“Larry’s departure unified us as a band,” Glennie says with a hint of surprise. “It could no longer be carried by Tim and me. We had to hope things would solidify again. People in the band, whose creativity we’ve barely tapped, passionately believe in this album because they worked their fucking balls off to get it finished.”
Back in action, James face new problems. In the marketplace, bands who don’t immediately consolidate their success tend not to get a second chance. Whiplash is selling briskly in England, but America is an unusual place to have to win over twice. James barely know what happened the first time.
“‘Laid’ took off on its own,” Glennie says, referring to the single. “But just the scale of things…you can’t get your head around it, so you end up being shepherded around, doing things you don’t really understand. We come back four years later — maybe people just aren’t gonna be bothered?”
Nevertheless, the tradewinds are blowing in the right direction. After all, other struggling lifers such as Pulp and Manic Street Preachers have finally made inroads here. And after fighting to keep James together, Glennie is reasonably enthusiastic about fighting to get America interested again.
“It isn’t the public having trouble accepting James, it’s the industry,” he says. “We’ve seen different waves of music come and go. We’ve always sidestepped that, because if you jump on a wave as it comes in, you get dragged out with it. There’s something wonderful about throwing yourself back in again, not preaching to the converted. We have this naive view that if we think it’s great, the rest of the world will as well.”
BRITAIN
“Apparently, about 40 or 50 years ago, it dominated the whole world. Then it started a so-called righteous Second World War, and then the Americans took it over! It’s never quite got over that. It’s a tough, fiery little island doing better in terms of creativity than size would suggest. I tend to call it home, sometimes reluctantly.”
BRITPOP
“I’ve liked a lot of the music and loved a little bit of it, but it bugs me when people consciously lift from the past. It’s one thing to influenced, you can’t avoid that, but when it’s deliberate it’s called theft, and it’s a different thing. Jarvis (Cocker), in terms of attitude, is obviously wonderful, and I’ve loved some of his songs, very much lyrically. He could end up being the Alan Bennett of this generation. In terms of his literary ability, he could probably go and do whatever he wants now. And he’s an original character – it’s not like, ‘We’re lads, we go and get fuckin recked all the time and screw everybody.’ It’s something we haven’t seen before.”
MANCHESTER
“I live just outside now. I had a house just outside Manchester for a long time, and now I’m actually moving back in. It is a pretty frightening city, when judged against most of the other cities I’ve been in. I like Glasgow.”
TOURING
“We’re really looking forward to it! We haven’t done any gigs for three years, and I’ve just been looking at some footage of the last one we did, which was ‘Woodstock2’ in America. Then I’ve just been watching the band rehearsing and working on the new songs, and we’re really hungry. James became famous because of touring, and we know we can do that really well. But it’s been so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like, so ask me again in June and I’ll probably say it was like giving birth.”
SKYDIVING
“I did it for a ritual that I was doing in America, which was all about ‘choosing your own life’. The most frightening bit was that the plane took off almost vertically, and we hadn’t got our parachutes on. So you’re sliding back towards this huge open door. I kept going, ‘Excuse me! Someone’s left the door open!’ Once you’ve got your parachute on, you feel like you’ve got a chance. The funniest thing is that they video it, and I had this huge fight with the video guy because he wanted to stick Def Leppard on the soundtrack, and all these other rock tracks that I couldn’t stand! I had to fight to get the only halfway decent music he had there, which was ‘Freefalling’ by Tom Petty.”
RELIGION
“I would say that it’s the organised thugs, the vultures who come in and carve up the market immediately after a wise person has died. To me, finding one’s spirit or finding your true nature – that’s my purpose in life. It’s been in a lot of James records, but it’s been hiding. It didn’t sit well with James’ music. One of the main reasons I wanted to work with Angelo Badalamenti was that I knew he’d give more poetic licence to free- associate in those areas, which is simply about finding out how to get into altered states without drugs. I do it through dancing, meditation or jumping out of areoplanes. I used to do it through drugs and I’m not averse to them every now and again, but that’s all too short-term.”
HOME
“I’ve always felt like an alien. I’ve always been desperate to get from here to home. I’m still looking, and the way I feel at home is when I’m in love – when I have people I love with me.”
LONGEVITY
“James were always built to last. It was always our intention. If you take short cuts, you can get there quicker, but you can’t hold it. Longevity for me is about staying alive – keeping your enthusiasm and curiosity.”
GENIUS
“The one out-and-out genius that we’ve worked with is Brian Eno. He’s clear of obstacles. His creativity is direct. On another level, I would call Angelo a genius, and Neil Young. It’s being clear-sighted and clear-minded and not letting your personality get in the way. Most of the music industry doesn’t know half of what Brian does. He writes papers for Mitsubishi on the future of urban transport. He did a lecture tour of Britain on perfume, and sold out Sadler’s Wells! He’s designing a crystal museum in Scandinavia with Peter Gabriel and Laurie Anderson. His interests range so far beyond music.”
INDULGENCE
“Well, you stick a group of young lads in a tour bus for three months, with all kinds of offers coming your way, and …it’s whatever you want to make it. I know I’m seen as a monk and the band are seen as animals, in the positive sense of the word. That isn’t accurate, because I’ve done a lot of wild things in my time, only in a different area. I mean, I’ve gone dancing for 10 days.”
ANTHEMS
“We’re scared by the whole thing. The reaction to ‘Sit Down’ got a bit overwhelming – beautiful but scary. It meant so much to people. We had parents whose children were on life-support machines writing in and asking us to come in and sing to them. ‘Sit Down’ struck the balance between being a big anthemic song and being very personal. We do write anthems, but not consciously, I promise. There’s a lot of very strong, catchy songs on this new album, but God knows if we’ll ever write another ‘Sit Down’.”
MILLENNIUM
“Did you know that the island which will be the first point in the world where the sun will rise on that day has already been bought up by Japanese businessmen? They’ve got a new car, and they want the sun to rise on that new car! I mean, you’re going to want to remember it. Your’re not going to want to go to bed at 11 on that date! We’re living in an astonishing time anyway. Information technology is getting well out of hand, and God knows what is going to happen in the next 20 years. These are really exciting times. We could destroy ourselves, or we could find amazing new technologies to liberate ourselves.”
Top Of The Pops “Do You Want To Be An MP?”
TOTP: Do you have any juicy secrets in your closet?
Tim: Oozing through the cracks and keyhole they shall remain!
TOTP: What would you do if someone sold a story about you to the papers?
Tim: Ask them for a split and make sure they say I’m well-endowed
TOTP: What’s the minimum salary you’d work for?
Tim: Love
TOTP: Do you have the ability to send people to sleep when you talk?
Tim: That’s a vicious rumour. I wake people up when I sleep-talk
TOTP: How important is power to you?
Tim: I’d be nothing without it!
TOTP: When was the last time you wore a suit and tie to work?
Tim: Have you seen our last video?
TOTP: Jeremy Paxman wants to interview you. Are you scared?
Tim: No, he’s a fellow Aquarian and he supports Leeds!
TOTP: What’s the correct way to address an M.P. in the House of Commons?
Tim: Arse!
TOTP: Who can’t vote at elections?
Tim: Anyone with any intelligence!
TOTP: Liam Gallagher wants his photo taken with you. Do you say yes?
Tim: He’s too good-looking
TOTP: What would you do about the Criminal Justice Act?
Tim: Make it illegal
TOTP: Do your very best impression of an M.P.
Tim: What do you want me to say?
No, unfortunately Mr James hasn’t made it. Anyone with a sense of humour isn’t allowed in the Commons. We think Tim could rethink his lobbying approaching but perhaps he could start by making the tea.
On entering the LWT building on London’s South Bank, one could be easily unnerved. Immediately to the left, glossy photos of such toothy-grinning celebs as Cilla, Richard & Judy and Beadle stare surreally down on the reception area. Soon to be added to this Hall Of Fame, no doubt, is Mr Bob Mills – comic, footie expert and chat show host. James are here to perform their trimphant single ‘She’s A Star’ on his new Saturday night slot. Map and compass in hand, I venture out in search of the mercurial Mancunians. ventually I stumble upon the Green Room where Mr Mills, a Giant Haystack of a human specimen, is organising rehearsals. I stare into his kneecaps, grab a beer and scale further heights to the restaurant where the James boys have eloped for an early evening nibble.
Previous preconceptions would suggest nothing more than a vegefest, a rock ‘n’ roll rice dish. But this was never James. Singer Tim Booth, maybe – the original man to put the green in runner bean – but not the rest of the band. It’s appropriate that, tonight, Tim is busy in the wardrobe department, wearing the most antisocial of tartan trousers. There’s also been changes in James’ land -a new openess and democracy which means Tim doesn’t do all the talking. Surrounded by red meat and red wine, I’m talking to the cheeky coupling of Saul Davies (guitars) and Jim Glennie (bass).
James have been together for 14 years; have been compared to U2 and The Srniths, survived Madchester baggie and simmered below Britpop. Not uncommonly it was their efforts to crack the US (Laid has sold a healthy 600,000 there) that nearly led to their demise. Having attempted to bribe me with a tenner to say something nice about the band, Saul takes up the story:
“We’d been going strong for about four years, then after the American tour, we came as close as we’ve come to disaster. Larry (Gott, guitarist and founding member) left, the taxman got hold of us (for five years non-payment) and then Tim went off to record with Angelo (Badalamenti ). We could’ve just given up, got into four or five different bands and done nothing. Or we could re-group.”
“We were forced to re-evaluate what we wanted to do and whether we wanted to do it. Had we got the legs for it?” adds Jim.
Although outflanked by U2’s Zooropa the Eno-inspired Wah Wah sessions helped refresh the spirits. Saul reckons its experimental noodlings to be the band’s favourite work.
“We all love the sound of the album, it’s the band’s favourite. It was the first time we’d used technology through necessity. But we knew we couldn’t afford to make another weird album now. We wanted to make a record with that technological edge to it but one that was married to some blinding pop songs.”
The retrenchment process began with Saul, Jim and drummer Dave Baynton- Power assembling at the latter’s Wrexham home studio. Tim carried on with his side projects, occasionally dropping in with some vocals. They moved on to Real World studios and Mickey Most’s (“always dressed in white Versace”) RAK studios in St John’s Wood, “to get the well urban vibe,” quips Saul. Stephen Hague (New Order, PSB et al) was brought in to produce some pop sheen, Eno recalled for the sonic quirks.
The resultant new pervy James comes by the name of Whiplash (Fontana), mixing the old style sweeping pop melodrama of ‘Tomorrow’ with the jungly modernity of ‘Greenpeace’. Slightly schizophrenic, but still unquestionable class. Only now everyone’s involved.
“We’ve all had to take more of a role,” says Jim,”Being a founder member it had always been me, Tim and Larry – we thought we had to guide the others but we didn’t. The nucleus grew. For Tim it was a big relief. It took a lot of the responsibility off him. He could have some fun and for the first time we were a band that could all chill out. Some of the songs we just smashed up, not too many ‘cos we wanted it to sound up. Like, we had a little room where we could sort out the mad ideas before going into the £l,000-a-day studio (carefully avoiding being financially singed for a second time). We transferred ideas to Eno and vice versa. Bouncing ideas backwards and forwards. We ended up with a kind of b!oadstroked, haphazard, creative democracy .The only thing that stopped us was The Simpsons and the footie – we ended up being completely nocturnal.”
You could call James underachievers, suffering from a perennial identity crisis. But Whiplash slips in easily betwixt the likes of Radiohead and Oasis – the odd esoteric twist and socially concerned muse thrown in as trademark. But what about this new found laddishness? Common consent was an evening with James comprises yoga, Buddhism, followed by large helpings of tofu.
“James have always been seen as being po-faced but anyone who comes out with us for a night would realise that’s a load of old tosh. If they don’t end up with alcohol poisoning or a black eye it would be quite unusual.”
“But we’ve got to be careful,” adds Jim.”You don’t want to become too compartmentalised. We’ve not become a lad’s band who think they’re Oasis. We’ve always been fairly ordinary. Sometimes we’re arrogant like most people in a band, sometimes we’re stupid and immature, making idiots of ourselves and all points in between. It’s fun, we’re just playing with our image.”
So, at last, James seems to be playing themselves, knowing their place and quite content with that. Almost at home James.
“We don’t mind being slagged off, ‘cos that’s better than being ignored,” Saul concludes, “We’ve been pleasantly surprised by the reaction so far. A lot of people don’t have preconceptions of us and they’ll go out and buy our records. We don’t intend to get paranoid.” Time to sit down and tune in .