Category Archives: Biography

James are a band who through their 1991 single Sit Down became associated with the Madchester scene but who are really a band with origins and inspirations far away from the spirit of those times. James from their early eighties origins have always been an unpredictable unit, even fey at times. There is none of the belligerent aggression of the Stone Roses in James but there are very adroit lyrics. Partly this is down to the lead singer Tim Booth. Oh rare Tim Booth! If Freddie Garrity of Freddie and the Dreamers danced like a frog in a blender in the 1960’s then Booth, when he gets in the mood, dances like a frog in a really, really fast blender.

Proving their longevity the band achieved something they had never previously achieved when, in 1998, their Best Of album reached number 1. James had started out in 1983 at Factory Music. Championed by Morrissey of The Smiths and manipulating influences from very diverse sources – early songs included sea shantie references – they built an amazingly devoted following which sticks by them up to the present. Their reputation grew through albums such as Stutter and One Man Clapping to the excellent Gold Mother in 1990. The single Sit Down followed with its well known middle section where all the audience are required – you guessed it – to sit down. It reached number 2 in the singles charts and in no time at all James became a big stadium player on both sides of the Atlantic.

This followed a re-release of Gold Mother and a new album Seven . Their recording high point was reached with perhaps one of the finest albums by any Manchester band, Laid , in 1993. Here the group with Brian Eno in attendance produced an ethereal mix of innovative sounds which sustained itself over most of the songs. Laid came as close as any subsequent Manchester music had to the sheer inimitability of The Smiths. The band’s best work after Laid was Whiplash in 1997 which was followed by the Best of album mentioned above.

Love or hate Apollo 440’s version of ‘Sit Down’? Reckon James care that it has the Top 10, just like the original did seven years ago? Surely it will generate extra sales for that ‘Best Of’ album, already topping figures of half a million?

Certainly, the success of the remix is timely for James, who are also marking their return to the big arenas – something which hasn’t happened since the early Nineties. The tour is being promoted as a celebration, as opposed to a retrospective, with the promise of new songs off a forthcoming album. You get the feeling they haven’t given up on the Big Time; yet. A band who started their career at Factory Records (home of miserabilists Joy Division) and ended up being folky WOMAD faves. A band who would never let their pop anthems fake their orgasms. Flower power. The sound of violins. Well, the sound of one violin, anyway. And Tim Booth. An earnest voice with a penchant for high notes (move over youngster Brett Anderson) and the reason James will never become just another Hothouse Flowers – even though he converses with his angel (s) and knows the correct order of colours in a rainbow.

“Britain’s answer to Michael Stipe,” they’ll be saying. Again. Although, undoubtedly, he’s closer to Julian Cope. So shake off that wintertime apathy, polish your Cheshire cat smile. It’s that time

5 ASIDE – look out for

Since the Apollo 440 boys are reputedly very shy, watch out for the boys in disguise, trying to hide from all those hardcore James fans who hate the remix

Odds on, old James fave Brian Eno will be around

Listen out for new songs.

Listen out for old songs in new outfits. And watch out for occasional guest appearances too.

Try and get yourself invited back to Youth’s place. You can bet the band – or some of them – will be there, rather than at the after-show shindig.

James were formed in 1982 when would-be musicians Gavan Whelan, Jim Glennie (bass) and Paul Gilbertson (guitar) spotted Tim Booth dancing at Manchester University (where he was studying drama), and asked him to join their band. Over the next few years James made their name on the Manchester scene, with two EPs on the city’s Factory label — JIMONE (1983) and JAMES II (1985) — and a tour supporting The Smiths.

In 1985, Gilbertson was replaced by Larry Gott, and the band signed to Sire, setting to work on a debut album. STUTTER (1986), produced by legendary New Yorker Lenny Kaye (guitarist with Booth’s hero Patti Smith), confirmed them as contrary, cultish and unique. The track “Johnny Yen”, with its themes of exhibitionism, despair and violence, set the tone for years to come and became an enduring highlight of the band’s live appearances. And it was as a live band that James were making their reputation, building a following strong enough to see them through more setbacks than most.

1988’s STRIP MINE followed the course set by STUTTER with its off-kilter folk influences, but added some simple singalong choruses which anticipated hits to come. But neither band nor label were happy, and they now parted ways, leaving James to finance their live album for Rough Trade, ONE MAN CLAPPING (1989).

The album made the top of the indie charts, but Rough Trade never saw James as a commercial band. They could not have been more wrong. In 1990 a revamped James — Gavan Whelan had been replaced by David Baynton-Power, who was joined by Saul Davies (violin), Andy Diagram (trumpet) and Mark Hunter (keyboards) — signed to Phonogram, released the anthemic GOLD MOTHER album and had three minor hits in “How Was It For You”, “Come Home” and “Lose Control”.

Then there was “Sit Down”, the re-recorded version of a 1989 single which gave James their breakthrough. It was the middle of the ‘Madchester’ boom. They had just supported the Happy Mondays (co-leaders of the scene), and their increasingly baggy (and big-selling) T-shirts were looking like fashion items. The band’s rhythmic sense and indie sensibility, present from the start, suddenly fitted into the indie/dance crossover sound that was making all the waves.

An anthem for outsiders, “Sit Down” got to #2 in the spring of 1991 and James were on a roll. By now they were playing big venues even supporting DAVID BOWIE at Manchester’s Maine Road stadium, and it all seemed perfectly natural. But there was a downside to all this. The first time an audience sat down for “Sit Down”, it was something special. The twentieth time, it was a hollow ritual and the one thing that the band had always tried to avoid. So they upturned expectations with unpredictable live shows full of new songs, with the hits in the wrong places. The audience didn’t know what to make of it, and the press backlash followed with SEVEN (1992), an album widely dismissed as ‘stadium rock’.

But the big sound had gone as far as it could. 1993’s album LAID, produced by Brian Eno, had a subtle, stripped-down sound and improvisational feel, closer to the early days. The LAID sessions also produced a series of experimental, ambient jams which later surfaced on the WAH WAH album (1994). Tim Booth recorded an album, BOOTH AND THE BAD ANGEL (1996), with the American composer Angelo Badalamenti (of Twin Peaks fame).

Meanwhile, James, still misunderstood at home, turned their back on the backlash, toured the US, and went back into the studio, preparing WHIPLASH (1997). Not the most risk-taking of releases, the album had James tentatively meandering back to the style that got them into the stadiums — anthemic, singalong rock. It went gold and laid the ground for 1998’s JAMES… BEST OF (Mercury).

THE 1990 student anthem Sit Down could well have been something of a weight around Tim Booth’s neck, but the fact that James had been labouring for eight years previously probably helped them put the success in context.

It was in 1982 that guitarist Paul Gilbertson, bassist Jim Glennie and drummer Gavan Whelan invited a possessed dancer they saw at a Manchester disco (drama student Booth) to join their band.

After headlining the Hacienda, James were approached by that club’s owner, Tony Wilson of Factory Records, and in 1983 released an EP, Jim One.

By now James were having an effect on other local contenders with lovestruck fan Morrissey hailing them as “the best band in the world” and inviting them to tour with The Smiths.

A major label deal soon came courtesy of maverick major label Sire and while it produced just two albums the experience helped the band hone their sound with Stutter and Strip Mine.

Tim Booth’s lyrics, too, began to show potential.

The escape from Sire left James testing drugs at a local clinic to earn money but when live album One Man Clapping topped the indie charts in 1989 it must have seemed worth it.

Phonogram/Fontana, rescued the impoverished lads in 1990 and released Gold Mother ­ the album that would go on to sell 350,000 in the UK alone.

It was fuller sound and with Manchester, in full swing, embraced James, Happy Mondays and the Stone Roses, the coolest fashion statement became the baggy JA (front) MES (back) t-shirt, a serious earner.

In an unprecedented philanthropic coup, when Sit Down lodged itself at No 2 for a hundred years and was included on repressings of the album, the band insisted anyone who’d bought Gold Mother be allowed to swap it free for the new completed version.

By 1992, Andy Diagram was on board, and Seven showed his presence in the majestic trumpet that backed the album’s hypnotic, windswept mood.

His personal life in continuing turmoil, meanwhile. Tim was making a feature of songs for the lost, lonely and questing. James were drawing vast audiences ­ 32,000 at the Alton Towers knees-up ­ and, in their anthemic charisma, comparisons to Simple Minds and U2.

1993’s Laid gave the band their first US hit, courtesy of the title track which had to be censored before it could be played on the airwaves.

The album did the business in the States, selling over 600,000 copies.

1995 was a year of anti-climax, and the following year seemed like the ideal time for Tim Booth to do a solo album in the shape of Booth and the Bad Angel.

Meanwhile, Jim, Saul, Mark and Dave were revitalised and back in the studio. They corralled the lads, and with new guitarist Adrian Oxaal, last year unleashed Whiplash.

The first single to be released from it, She’s a Star, turned out to be one of James’s biggest hits and was swiftly followed by top 20 single Destiny Calling.

Those who wrote James off in the mid-90s swiftly had to revise their opinions and this year the release of a Best Of LP proved James’s enduring popularity.

The Best Of James entered the UK charts at no 1 and has not left the top 10 since it’s release in March.

It would seem there’s plenty of time to be yesterday’s men.

Rebirth? Revival? Second wind? Whatever you call it, James have thrust themselves right back into the fray with the release of their “Best Of” and the two new accompanying singles. In fact, the band themselves claim to be writing the best material of their lives, so it ain’t going to stop there. Headlining the Fleadh, platinum album sales, more hit singles – there’s time for world domination yet, eh fellas?

Listening to their new stuff, it’s hard to believe they’ve been doing their thing for nigh-on 16 years now. I mean “Destiny Calling” raised a fair few eyebrows (including both of mine) with its impassioned mantra and “Runaground” is probably as good as anything they’ve done to date. James sound fresh, happy and meaningful once again – which can’t be easy when you’re well, let’s say, “getting on a bit.”

In fact, the “Best Of” reveals just how utterly swoonsome James songs always were, they can still hold their own to this day – jostling for prime position in our record collections along such upstarts as Travis, Embrace and erm Oasis. Although they haven’t always been the epitome of cool, James have kept on churning out the soaring, heartfelt pop songs one after the other and now they can finally capitalise on their consistency. So whether you’re looking for a nostalgic night of top tunes from the past, or, like the band themselves, you’re looking ahead at what to come, James look like a pretty safe bet for a stomping night. The Fleadh it is then.

In 1983, James released their first EP, JIMONE **, on Factory. Like The Smiths, they were stillbashing away on guitar, bass and drums while all around them loaded up with hi-tech, state-of-the-art production. ‘JimOne”s unremarkable guitar-pop had an edge that appealed to many – not least Morrissey, who turned “What’s The World” into a live Smiths favourite. JAMES II ** (1985) include “Hymn From A Village” and “If Things Were Perfect.”

Their debut album, STUTTER (1986, Sire) **, was produced by former Patti Smith guitarist Lenny Kaye. It had an improvised indie/folk feel, while Tim’s vocals swooped from high-pitched melodrama to a surprisingly deep tenor (on the thoughtful, quite lovely “Really Hard”). Held back by Sire for a full 18 months, STRIP MINE (1988) ** was seen by some as dreary and dated. A handful of tracks worked well, especially the rabble-rousing “What For”, a precursor to “Come Home” and “Sit Down.” The live album, ONE MAN CLAPPING (1989, Rough Trade) **, featured a number of retreads, though the relief of having left Sire shows in less strained vocals. “Sit Down” and “Come Home” were released as singles with little company backing, and thus went nowhere. Still, the album topped the indie charts.

GOLD MOTHER (Fontana, 1990) *** was something rather different. In a daring James are hip! shock, the new seven-strong line-up, produced by Flood, boosted their lily-livered strummings, while the turbulent Booth got real embittered angst into his lyrics. A string of imperative hits – “Come Home,” “Hang On,” “Lose Control,” and a re-released “Sit Down,” plus “How Was It for You” – whipped fans to a frenzy and perfectly fitted the indie/dance crossover.

And then they blew it, though it’s hard to see how. SEVEN (1992) *** was wild and possessed, with Tim howling like a coyote, angelic trumpets and powerchords lifting the sound beyond Simple Minds territory. It was a big sound – too big for its boots, said the press, who slaughtered the album on grounds of pomposity and arrogance.

Produced by Brian Eno, LAID (1993) **** was spare, dreamy and sexy, from the deeply insecure and touching “Out To Get You” to the groovy “PS,” and it brought America to its knees. Session outtakes and ambient jams constituted the now-deleted WAH WAH (1994) ***, intended as a rebirth of cool – but a delayed release date meant it limped home well after U2’s Eno-produced ‘Zooropa.’

Near implosion in 1995 gave Tim space for the solo project, BOOTH AND THE BAD ANGEL (1996) ***, with Angelo Badalamenti, a low-key gem, with desolate sonic landscapes. By contrast, WHIPLASH (1997) **** was unexpectedly raucous. Unselfconscious, rockin’, playful (“She’s A Star”, “Waltzing Along”), but shot through with dark shafts of alienation.

After the current ‘1998: The Year Of The Hits, a new album is scheduled for later this year.

Because it has been a policy of James not to minimise the risks of accidental music, they’ve always had little in common with their play-safe British contemporaries. At early rehearsals in Manchester in 1981 and 1982 (when the band was called Model Team International), the emphasis was never on the barre chord or the obvious riff. Why write songs that will rescue you from material discomfort when you can write five that no other human beings would ever think of?

The first single by James, ‘JimOne’ (Factory, 1984), was pop music of dizzy and unusual character. Constructed from lengthy jams, the songs paradoxically had a gleeful and ‘once-only’ quality to them, as though this hybrid of folk, sea shanties, postcard and king sunny ads would be too audacious to attempt twice. By the equally startling follow-up, ‘Hymn From A Village’ (Factory, 1985), James fragile yet intense art had a besotted audience. As a music unit, James were the UK independent music scene’s nearest thing to cult: secretive, misunderstood, eagerly gossiped about, even a little sinister.

The long-awaited debut album, Stutter (Sire, 1986), was produced by Patti Smith’s guitarist Lenny Kaye and included the keynote track ‘Johnny Yen’, which addressed one of singer/lyricist Tim Booth’s most urgent topics: how much madness is too much when you are creating a work of art? For certain, there were few more intense ‘performance’ bands than James in the 1980s. As improvisors, they were all the more compelling for being non-virtuosi. There was no technique to hide behind.

After a second album, Strip-Mine (Sire, 1988), the band underwent one of its periodic restructuring, releasing the high quality live album ‘One Man Clapping’ (Rough Trade, 1989), and increasing ultimately to a septet with a trumpeter, a violinist and a keyboard player. Their hometown had exploded as a worldwide force in youth fashion. Yet James, for all their local success, had seemingly been omitted from the party invitations. A commercial-sounding single, ‘Sit Down’, in the summer of 1989, had failed to ignite as intended.

Hardly ever given a bad review, the band released their third studio album, ‘Gold Mother’ (Fontana, 1990), to terrific acclaim and the commercial breakthrough came at last in the spring of 1991 with the re-recording of ‘Sit Down’. A bouncy anthem for the downtrodden and the eccentric, the song became one of the most popular of the decade. Only the peculiar boy-man that was Chesney Hawkes prevented it from getting to number 1.

From being Manchester’s forgotten sons, James now whizzed to the other extremity: a crossover success story, a band that could headline a festival and a group with a total up-to-date attitude towards dancing rhythms. The next album, Seven (Fontana, 1992), lodged itself at number 2, behind Stars by fellow Mancunians Simply Red, yielding the hit singles ‘Sound’ and ‘Born of Frustration’.

There was an imperative at the heart of Seven that epitomised the band’s music and beliefs: “do something out of character.” Whenever they’re playing, and whichever song they’ve just started to play, James have always respected the element of risk, believing that if you take risks a great movement could potentially be only a few seconds away. In the studio, conventional procedures are avoided. Nobody actually writes James songs. They emerge from the intensity of jams, as shapes will emerge from a 3D puzzle if you stare hard enough.

For many years the band had wanted to work with producer Brian Eno, whose reserves of intellect and emotion marked him out as a must-have collaborator. When the sessions finally got underway in Bath in 1993, they turned out better than anyone had dared hope. For one thing, James went in to record one album and came out with two. Laid (Fontana, 1993) was the ‘official’ release: an intimate and soulful work, it not only delighted the band’s European fans, but also proved highly successful in America, where James toured heavily in 1994. Indeed, in a year when British music was struggling to make any headway whatsoever in the states, only James and Radiohead could rightfully claim wholly to have articulated their full-on psycho-dramatic-physical art to the North American continent, with nothing being lost in translation.

It was then revealed that, while making Laid, James and Eno had recorded an additional double album: a hidden treasure of proper songs, fully-blown jams and extra-curricular ambient footage that existed in a slightly different continuum to the parent album, but was far from mere over matter, since it gave a vital and unprecedented glimpse. It was released as Wah Wah (Fontana 1994).

If the music on Wah Wah pointed towards a non-song based, deconstruction alist, industrialised future for James, the actual outcome was even more minimalist: a long hiatus that stretched to three years. During this extended layoff, the six members of this once-parochial band were rumoured to be living in four different countries; in the meantime, the music world was a blur of genres, sub-genres and proto-genres. James hibernated. Tim Booth recorded an album with movie composer Angelo Badalamenti, Booth and the Bad Angel. For a moment it looked as if James might have run its course.

But there’s a momentum to this band that nobody can rightly pinpoint. In 1997 James returned, refreshed, slightly changed and armed with a glamorous new creation called Whiplash. This album – as momentously sexy and downright melodically uncanny as any the band had ever delivered – would have been a brilliant comeback under any circumstances. But it shot them back into the top 10; claimed a key place for James in a modern world; re-awakened those who had forgotten about them. Still their modus was mysterious: where did something as short-skirted and horny as ‘She’s a Star’ come from? How did it get there?

As we approach the third millennium, James continue to shine out in the dark like a lighthouse (not quite belonging to the land, not quite separated from it), a band whose music is beyond fashion – often better than fashion – and whose fans are a by-word in loyalty.

We have some news for you. James remain active, vivid, hot, coy, sensual, and absolutely inexplicable.

by David Cavanagh