Details
James performing What For on The Other Side Of Midnight in March 1988
Jim : I’m Jimmy. I play bass guitar
Gavan : Hello, I’m Gavan. I’m the drummer
Larry : Hello, I’m Larry and I play the guitar
Tim : Tim, I sing and write the lyrics
Gavan : The recording went fantastic, really well and I think we’ve probably made the best LP for four years that I’ve ever heard. It’s called Strip Mine. We recorded it about a year ago with Hugh Jones down in Wales.
Tim : We usually jam together as a band and try and work out basic tunes and a kind of general structure for the song. I’ll take a cassette home and then late at night into early morning, I’ll write the lyrics starting with whatever comes into my head. A lot of them I don’t have a clue what I’m going to write about, I just let the song be written the way it wants to be.
Everyone in the band has completely different influences, often contrasting.
Larry : I used to when I was 13 or 14 or something like that, I used to listen to Jimi Hendrix a lot. Before that I listened to a lot of Motown when I was younger around about 12. Then I really got into heavy rock music like that English group called The Groundhogs and other blues rock guitar players. And like everybody, I think as I grew older, my tastes widened and my spectrum of musical influence just got bigger and bigger and bigger.
Tim : We don’t like each other’s taste in music some of the time.
Gavan : Quite often
Tim : Quite often. What do you call an influence because we never try and emulate anyone. Full stop. And if we hear certain influences which we feel are too overt we just drop the song or we change it.
Gavan : There’s a lot of music in America that I like, especially ethnic’s the wrong word but each different area has it’s own music, it has it’s own idiom and we’re quite open to that, travelling round, we get inspired by that.
Jim : I suppose it’s just the music we listen to, isn’t it?
Tim : There aren’t any fillers on the LP. We made sure everything that went on we really worked on. We really got the most out of.
What For is about somebody trying to uplift themselves. In Manchester, there’s this big town centre and every evening before the sun goes down these birds, these starlings, start circling overhead, flying in almost hieroglyphic formations, a really spectacular site, really beautiful, especially in the middle of a dirty smelly city to see these beautiful formations and it’s really uplifting. And the song is kind of about this guy who’s really down, he’s trying not to think about his worries and newspapers and everything he reads, he looks up and sees this beautiful sight and thinks “What For, tell me, tell me what for”
FOLKLORE
1983 : alors que la vague gothique donnait une nouvel uniforme éphémère au rock anglais, James osaient sortir un premier titre « Folklore », quitte à passer pour les idiots du village.
Toujours aussi emmerdeurs et déroutants, ils se font rares et précieux depuis : une discographie intrigante et des concerts déroutants les ont hissés sur un piédestal solide et définitif, voisin de celui des Smiths.
La liqueur du rock.
Vous semblez tous les quatre particulièrement liés les uns aux autres;
Après un bon concert, oui( rires );Nous avons joué un très mauvais concert il y a quelques jours, c’était la misère qui nous liait toute la soirée. Nous sommes très différents les uns des autres, nous discutons beaucoup, nous avons connu beaucoup de choses ensemble en cinq ans. Chacun d’entre nous est passé par des périodes étranges, c’était très délicat à négocier.
Vous ne souhaitez pas parler de ces périodes ?
Pendant quelques années, trois d’entre nous avions pour habitude de méditer énormément, et quand je dis énormément, c’est vraiment énormément. Nous le faisions hors du groupe, parfois pendant des périodes de plusieurs jours, des heures d’affilée. D’autres se sont intéressés aux arts martiaux, ce genre de choses.
J’allais justement dire que lorsque je vous ai vus la première fois sur scène, vous m’avez fait penser à une espèce de secte;
Non, ce n’est pas ça. Nous avons pratiqué la méditation pendant quelques années mais nous avons arrêté il y a un peu plus d’un an maintenant, parce que le groupe avec lequel nous le faisions s’est dissous. C’était intense, beaucoup trop, un travail trop dur, trop éprouvant. C’était trop organisé et rigide, maintenant nous ne faisons que ce que nous voulons faire, nous choisissons. Nous restions assis à méditer, deux heures par jours, parfois dix heures le week-end ou même des journées entières de dix-huit heures. C’était très exigeant. J’en suis assez fier, mais cela peut aussi vous rendre très arrogant;ou même vous détruire, car vous restez là, assis pendant des heures, alors qu’on a qu’une envie, c’est de sortir courir;
Maintenant que vous avez arrêté, cela ne vous manque pas trop ?
J’ai recommencé récemment, mais je le fais lorsque je le veux alors qu’avant, la discipline de ce groupe était trop dure. C’était trop extrême. En tournée, cela pouvait donner des situations étranges, les uns méditaient pendant que les autres buvaient leur café, deux camps séparés. Mais lorsqu’on est un groupe, il faut faire des sacrifices, on ne peut pas vivre que pour soi-même, il faut trouver un langage commun.
Venez-vous de familles très religieuses ?
Le groupe vient du milieu prolétaire de Manchester sauf moi ( Tim, le chanteur), je suis le snobinard de la bande ( rires);Je viens de la classe moyenne du Yorkshire. Mon père était assez religieux, c’était une espèce de chrétien distrait, un chevalier-gentleman;Mais rien de positif, alors qu’avec la méditation on agissait, c’était du concret.
Comment vivez-vous à Manchester ? Etes-vous impliqués dans la scène musicale ?
Nous sommes à part. Mais je ne crois pas qu’ils existe véritablement une scène musicale à Manchester, la plupart des groupes sont à part. On fait son propre truc, on ne fait rien en commun, on ne partage pas. Il n’y a aucun sentiment de communauté à Manchester, ce n’est pas comme si tous les musiciens créatifs jouaient dans leur secteur avec un but commun. Ce sont juste beaucoup de gens qui habitent là, qui forment des groupes parce qu’ils s’ennuient. Certains d’entre eux deviennent plus connus et peuvent en vivre, c’est tout. Les groupes sont très différent les uns des autres, il existe de très bons groupes de jazz, et les Smiths, New Order, The Fall et Black;Simply Red;les deux extrêmes;Ten CC ( rires );
Morrissey, des Smiths, nous a dit qu’il a été très déçu par les groupes qu’il avait aidé, que James était le seul avec lequel il avait gardé de bonnes relations, malgré quelques problèmes;
(rires);L’un des problèmes a été que j’ai essayé de l’entraîner à méditer (rires);Je ne crois pas que ça pourrait bien marcher avec lui;L’autre problème a été qu’ils voulaient nous emmener sur une tournée américaine et nous avons annulé une semaine avant le départ, ce qui l’a déçu énormément car il nous avait beaucoup aidés, ils ont eu l’impression qu’on les laissait tomber. Mais à part ça, on s’entend toujours bien, il est venu nous voir lors de notre dernier concert à Londres.
Quel effet vous a fait la dissolution du groupe ?
Pas grand chose. Nous ne leur avons jamais ressemblé, musicalement, même si les gens nous mettaient dans le même sac. Il y a quelques points communs, ils sont végétariens, nous aussi;Mais c’est étrange car nous existions deux-trois ans avant eux et les gens ont dit qu’on leur ressemblait, ce qui était agaçant. Mais le contraire n’aurait pas été plus juste, ils n’ont rien pris chez nous, ils étaient vraiment indépendants. Il y avait aussi des similitudes quant à nos styles de vie, car nous ne menions pas la vie de la scène rock habituelle. A cause de ça, nous devions, dans nos interviews, ne pas trop dévoiler notre façon de vivre, pour qu’on ne nous rapproche pas trop d’eux. Je crois que je n’ai parlé de la méditation qu’une fois auparavant. Les gens ne nous auraient pas compris.
Vous aussi êtes végétariens;
Trois d’entre nous le sont. Nous le sommes devenus car cela faisait partie de la discipline méditative. Mais c’était plus que ça : pas d’alcools, pas de drogues.
Vous avez d ‘ailleurs joué pour des concerts anti-alcool;
Ce n’était pas vraiment ça, ce n’était pas vraiment anti-alcool. C’était une espèce de programme d’éducation qui insistait sur les dangers de l’alcoolisme sur des choses pratiques, ce n’était pas pour condamnes l’alcool. C’était juste pour renseigner à propos d’une drogue, car c’est une drogue à part entière. Mais bien sûr , ça a été perçu comme une campagne puritaine (rires);On a été étiqueté. C’était une amie qui organisait tout ça, on devait l’aider. Nous ne sommes pas contre la viande ou contre l’alcool, nous sommes pro-végétariens et pour la prévention de l ‘alcoolisme. Il ne s ‘agit pas d’être contre quelque chose, nous sommes positifs. Maintenant tout le monde boit de l’alcool dans le groupe, mais pas de manière extrême;Cela va sonner très péjoratif sur l’Ecosse : en tournée, nous sommes passés par certaines villes, comme Aberdeen, où le problème de l’alcoolisme est absolument terrible, aussi épouvantable que l’héroïne, sauf que c’est légal. Il est important de simplement souligner ces choses-là. En ce qui concerne le végétarisme, ce n’est pas un problème pour nous : chacun d’entre nous pourrait très bien re goûter à la viande un jour ou l’autre. C’est la presse qui en a fait une grosse affaire. Notre musique semble attirer la frange mode, avant-gardiste de la presse, qui aime Nick Cave et ce genre de choses, une musique plus radicale. Ce qu’ils ne peuvent pas supporter, c ‘est que nous n’ayons pas l’apparence « rock ». Ils n’aiment pas ça, mais alors pas du tout !!! Ca ne correspond pas à leur image. Nous avons eu des critiques où ils admettaient aimer, mais presque à contre-cœur, ils disaient « ils ont l’air de cons, ils ne se bourrent pas, ils ne mangent pas de viande, mais ils jouent de la bonne musique ». Voilà les réactions que nous avions, celles de gens à l’esprit étroit, bloqués dans leur propre image. Au début, on les faisait marcher, on était des emmerdeurs;Nous avons joué avec New Order, tout était sérieux et lugubre, nous ressentions le besoin de jouer des chansons folles et stupides, il fallait le faire, tellement l’environnement était misérable et gris. Il fallait se comporter de manière stupide. Nous le faisons moins maintenant, mais nous avons toujours tendance à réagir, nous avons beaucoup de chansons agaçantes, méchantes, agressives. D’autres soirs, lorsque le public semble sage et calme, le public des Smiths, on lui jouera des morceaux durs et rapides. On a tendance à choisir le contraire de ce qu’ils aimeraient entendre. Mais finalement, il aime toujours ça.
Connaissez-vous votre public ?
Il y a de tout. Il y a encore cette frange liée à Factory, le reste est un croisement de tout ce qui peut exister. Les gens qui ont le plus de difficultés pour venir à nos concerts sont ceux habillés de cuir noir, car ils n’aiment pas notre image. Certaines de nos chansons parlent de ça, du besoin des gens de porter un uniforme. Car c’est un problème, ils pourraient aussi bien être soldats;manque de sécurité, de confiance sans doute.
Vous avez sorti vos deux premiers 45t sur Factory. Comment êtes-vous arrivés sur le label ?
Ils sont venus nous voir à un concert et ont trouvé ça bien. « Voulez-vous faire un album avec nous ? » nous ont-ils demandés. « Non !!! » Et un peu plus tard »Voulez-vous faire un maxi avec nous ? » « Non !!! »(rires);et nous avons dit que nous voulions faire un single. Ils nous ont spécifié sur feuille tous les titres qu’ils voulaient que nous enregistrions, mais nous ne voulions pas enregistrer d’entrée nos meilleurs morceaux, nous avons donc choisi librement nos chansons les plus faibles. Ils ont d’abord été très embêtés, mais les morceaux sonnaient très bien en studio finalement;Ensuite, ils sont revenus à la charge avec leur album et leur maxi;et on a enregistré notre deuxième 45t !(rires);Nous ne voulions pas que nos chansons soient gâchées. Nous les chérissons, car nous y mettons beaucoup de nous-mêmes, trop, nous sommes trop sérieux quand il s’agit des chansons. Nous étions comme des mères possessives, nous ne voulions pas les laisser partir de chez nous, comme des mères qui veulent toujours prendre toutes les décision pour leurs enfants, ne pas les laisser grandir eux-mêmes.
Etes-vous toujours aussi sérieux avec vos rejetons maintenant ?
Ca va mieux, il le fallait. Les concerts, c’était la même chose. Ca ne pouvait pas être un simple concert, il fallait que ce soit à chaque fois une expérience unique. Nous pouvions rester des semaines à nous préparer mentalement pour un concert, c’était infernal. Je perdais toute notion de proportion des choses;Nous pensions être tellement spéciaux qu’il fallait faire de chaque concert un événement historique unique, nous improvisions beaucoup, maintenant encore.
Beaucoup estiment que vous êtes le groupe le plus « out of time », hors des courants, des modes, intemporels;On est incapable de discerner la moindre influence;
Au début, si nous pouvions, dans nos morceaux, sentir une quelconque influence, ou si quelqu’un du groupe sonnait comme quelqu’un d’autre, nous jetions immédiatement le morceau, même s’il était bon. Encore une fois, nous sommes maintenant devenus moins rigides, parce que tout le monde finalement est influencé. Et nous avons dû dans le passé jeter trop de bons morceaux sur lesquels personne, à part nous, n’aurait trouvé la moindre influence directe;Mais nous, nous pensions « oh oui, ça sonne trop comme la quatrième mesure de tel morceau, sur un album live obscure de 1969 » (rires);En plus, depuis que je suis dans le groupe, nous n’avons pas fait une seule reprise, même pas en répétition. On n’y a même jamais pensé. De toute façon, nous avons tous les quatre des goûts musicaux totalement différents. Comme nous écrivons les chansons ensemble, personne n’a de contrôle sur le son final. C’est pour ça que nos chansons sont bizarres ; à cause des ingrédients que chacun de nous apporte au résultat final;
Est-ce que l’on serait étonné si vous nous disiez le genre de musique que vous écoutiez dans le passé;
Non, pas vraiment; Gavan, le batteur, adore Led Zeppelin, est-ce que vous êtes étonnés ?(rires);et il adore le jazz;Je ne sais pas trop pour Jimmy, il écoutait The Jam et The Fall quand nous avons commencé le groupe, il y a des années;J’aime Jimi Hendrix, Captain Beefheart, Television;
C’est étonnant de vous voir réunir des influences aussi diverses, vous qui avez tant d’unité, une personnalité si forte;
Merci. Comment voulez-vous répondre à ça (rires);nous nous respectons beaucoup entre nous, et nous puisons une grande partie de notre influence chez les autres membres du groupe. Il n’y a aucun groupe de nos jours chez qui nous pouvons trouver l’inspiration;juste quelques trucs;Nick Cave & The Birthday Party;nous étions tous très fan, à part Jimmy, c’était un sacré groupe (souffle admiratif);De façon individuelle, nous avons aimé quelques morceaux, des choses de Stump, par exemple, mais rien ne nous a tous marqués depuis Birthday Party. Nous écoutons surtout des choses de l’époque où les musiciens aimaient la musique et n’étaient pas là pour vendre. Tous ces groupes que nous avons cité ont commencé parce qu’ils adoraient la musique, par pour gagner des millions de dollars;Cet appât du gain domine toute l’industrie du disque;Je me souviens quand j’étais plus jeune, j’étais très amoureux de Patti Smith;c’est ma grande influence. Ses concerts étaient tellement; uniques;elle poussait les choses le plus loin possible, improvisait;J’ai peur pour son nouvel album. Pour moi, ce qu’elle a fait de mieux est le pirate sorti juste avant « Horses »;Tellement choquant;les musiciens jammaient pendant qu’elle hurlait sa poésie. Quand Lenny ( Kaye, ex-guitariste du Patti Smith Group, ndlr) est venu produire notre premier album, il nous a donné d’excellents pirates;Par exemple la première répétition de Lenny Kaye et Patti Smith, juste deux, en train de reprendre des trucs de Brecht, « Mack the Knife »;
Comment s’est passé l’enregistrement avec Lenny Kaye ? Votre premier album avait, à l’époque, beaucoup surpris;
C’est vrai que ce n’était pas du tout un album commercial; Nous étions très naïfs à propos de notre force de vente; Nous pensions « c’est de la pop, les gens aimeront ça » (rires); Nous avons été surpris; Nous n’avons eu aucun problèmes avec Lenny, mais nous lui en avons donné beaucoup. Nous étions très possessifs avec nos enfants, nos chansons, et nous ne voulions pas lui laisser faire quoi que ce soit;le pauvre; Nous avons bloqué ses initiatives. Mais nous l’adorons, nous nous téléphonons souvent, nous sommes restés très proches, nous nous revoyons à chaque fois qu’il vient en Grande-Bretagne ; Il est super, un homme adorable, très drôle, une des personnes le plus attachantes que nous ayons rencontré dans ce business;
Pourquoi ne pas l’avoir choisi pour le second album, alors ?
Non; Nous ne pouvions pas (silence); Il était temps de passer à autre chose de différent. Mais la fabrication du deuxième album ne s’est pas très bien passé. Nous avons dû tout remixer, ou presque;
Hugh Jones, que vous avez choisi pour cet album, n’est pas, à priori, un producteur très subtile, surtout pour un groupe comme vous;
Le problème était de savoir avec qui aller ! Nous ne savions pas qui choisir quand Hugh est venu nous voir à la fin du concert, et il a su nous impressionner. Il nous a vraiment beaucoup critiqué, nous a insulté; personne ne l’avait fait avant; nous avons alors décidé qu’il était notre homme (rires); « Ok, montre nous ce que tu sais faire, grosse tête » (rires); Il nous a montré, et ça n’a pas marché; il a vraiment bien enregistré les chansons, mais ne nous a pas du tout convaincu au mixage. Il avait entendu nos premiers singles sur Factory, et ça l’excitait beaucoup; il pensait que nous n’avions pas réussi, sur le premier album, à recapturer le feeling de nos premiers singles, et il a beaucoup travaillé pour essayer de retrouver ce son;c’est dommage qu’il ait échoué au mixage;
Ce nouvel album sera-t-il une suite naturelle à « Stutter » ?
Oui, une progression très naturelle;mais il y aura pas mal de surprises. Je pense qu’il sera plus accessible, avec quelques singles dessus. .. Il ne faut cependant pas croire que nous ayons dû faire des concessions; nous avons compris pourquoi « Stutter » prenait tant de temps à séduire; L’ordre des chansons par exemple, peut faire une différence énorme. Les deux premiers morceaux sur « Stutter » étaient les plus mal produits de l’album. Il en résultait que la mauvaise impression durait ensuite pendant tout le disque; Tu ne peux pas te rendre compte à quel point ce genre de chose peut affecter les ventes; Nous n’avons pour l’instant qu’un titre provisoire pour le nouveau; il devrait s’appeler « If things were perfect »;de vieux souvenirs ! Quant à savoir s’il sera une suite vraiment logique à « Stutter », je crois que ce serait vraiment difficile de donner un prolongement naturel à quelque chose d’aussi bizarre, non ?
C.WHATSHISNAME & JD BEAUVALLET (Les Inrockuptibles- n°10-February/March 88
Phil Korbel : It’s James and Phil
Jim : Phil and James
PK : The band have now crawled out of the studio. Torn themselves away from the John Peel session, their own John Peel session that they were listening to in the gramophone library and come to talk to me. And now they’re complaining they’re not being paid. OK, now recently you’ve been described as being a band in the wilderness. We’ve heard nothing from you on vinyl for ages. What’s wrong?
Jim : Ermmm
PK : The corporate voice of James
Tim : We’re still in the wilderness. We’ve got an LP and other stuff coming out in about February. It was meant to come out now, it’s not going to. It’s being remixed. Maybe. Just in case someone’s listening. It’s coming out in February and we’ve just had a year of business problems.
PK : Business problems?
Tim : They’re over now
PK : And a change of management I gather
Tim : Yeah, we didn’t have a manager for a long time.
Jim : So that was quite a change really because we’ve got one
Tim : Well, we got one and then we sacked him so now we’ve got another one
PK : A real one
Tim : A real one
Jim : We didn’t sack him
Tim : We took him back to the shop as he was still under guarantee.
PK : Are we at liberty to divulge your new manager’s identity?
Jim : Mr X, come on down
Tim : Eliot Rashman who also manages what they called
All : Simply blue, red head
PK : Are we now going to have the same Simply Red treatment on James
Tim : Oh yes
Jim : You haven’t heard the new album
Tim : You haven’t heard the backing female singers and the orchestra
PK : You’re not joking are you?
Jim : No, not at all
Tim : We had a Tibetan, a Tibetan orchestra for the backing tapes and stuff like that. We’re going to tour with them as well in February.
PK : The Tibetan backing orchestra?
Tim : Yeah, gongs and horns and all sorts of things
PK : Ah yeah, a real small scale tour
Tim : And skulls of dead llamas
PK : You spent ages in a Welsh cottage recording this album and you’re still not happy with it. One, why did you go away to record the album?
Gavan : I don’t think Wales is really going away. It’s only like half a day away isn’t it really?
PK : Come on, come on. Be serious now
Gavan : Where do you want us to record it? There’s nowhere in Manchester really.
Jim : Well, now we’re megastars we thought we’d move up and hire somewhere like the Bahamas or Wales. Guess which we picked.
PK : Yeah, well, quite.
Tim : Whatever
PK : Now you’ve got this reputation of being good, clean-living young men. You know, Buddhist, teetotal, the strongest drug you’ll take is a cup of tea. Is this still true or have you fallen away?
Tim : No, we don’t drink tea.
Jim : Very high in tannin, very high in tannin. Makes your teeth go brown
PK : I see, right, OK. So you’re still good clean-living boys
All : We never were. No, no.
Tim : It’s all a myth
Jim : We’re sponsored by Guinness now
PK : I see, so it’s going to be the Guinness tour now? I like the idea of that. Now, we’ve heard the rendition, the only kind of recorded output of James that we’ve had recently are the jingles that three of the band did that Tim hasn’t heard. Tim, the singist, for reasons best known to himself didn’t want to come in
Tim : You’ll find out why when you hear the bloody jingle.
PK : Well he hasn’t actually heard this one
Jim : He’s a lightweight
PK : Just listen to this
Jim : You’re sacked
(plays piano-heavy Meltdown jingle with Jim’s deep “scary” voice)
Gavan : That’s it lads, I’m leaving
Jim : Nothing to do with me
PK : As you can see, now the denials come out
Tim : They only agreed to do it because you said it would remain anonymous.
PK : Oh rubbish
Tim : Sounds like a mad vicar
Jim : Meltdown. That’ll do
PK : That’ll do
Jim : Nearest to a compliment we’re going to get this evening
Tim : We’re going into adverts because we reckon there’s some money in it and we haven’t seen any anywhere else so we’re going into adverts
PK : Adverts for Jameson Whiskey first?
Tim : Yes, Jameson Whiskey
Jim : You talked us into that one
PK : Right, let’s talk about the new album. You’re dissatisfied with it, but the little of it I’ve heard so far appears to indicate a new direction, a beefier sound maybe.
Tim : Beefier? Come on, we’re healthy
PK : Sorry sorry
Tim : More Marmite.
PK : More soya like
Jim : No, no, we want a new image
Tim : Yeah, beefier, that’s fine
Gavan : It’s not beefier enough, that’s the problem
Tim : More beefy
Gavan : I’ve been ordered to come closer to the mic. It is not beefier enough.
PK : Thank you. That’s very kind of you Gavan. Gavan the drummer acting like a drummer.
Jim : Ooh cutting
PK : Tim, the rest of you, Tim, Jim, Gavan. The new album, if people were going to take the last album as a starting point, in which ways is this album different?
Tim : It’s the second one. It’s the one after the last album. I think that’s the first thing that’s really important to get across.
Jim : The second one’s a lot better
Tim : It’s much different from the first one as well
PK : In what ways?
Tim : It’s got different songs on it
PK : Yeah, right, I see, fine
Jim : It is much better though
Tim : My Mum says she thought that second track was really good.
PK : The second track, now is your Mum.
Jim : There’s only you on it
Tim : That’s why she likes it
(Jim and Tim have pretend argument)
PK : Now you’ve got this image of being very very serious people. Excuse me
Jim : You won’t laugh when he hits you
Tim : Perv
PK : Now this lot did actually say that they were going to behave when they came in, but it seems as if the occasion has overcome them and we might not get anything more sensible out of them. Are we going to?
Tim : Yes, you will
PK : Are you sure?
Gavan : The album is a bit more thought out. That’s why it’s different
Jim : Well said, round of applause
PK : Now the other thing, we’ve got some sense out of them, thank you. Next
Tim : It’s going to be much wilder. The songs are more complete. It’s like on the first LP some of the songs sound like they weren’t quite sketched out fully and the new one, we’ve taken them more to extremes, so a potential rock song becomes a rock song and a potential classical song becomes totally classical with the London Philharmonic joining in. And we’ve just taken things more to the extremes
PK : More extreme, so does that account for the fact that last time you played Manchester you had two sets, you had an acoustic set and then, for want of a better word, a rock set? A full band set anyhow
Gavan : No. We just felt because it had been quite a long time since we last did a gig in Manchester that we just wanted to make it a bit special.
Tim : And Gavan our drummer is a frustrated pianist so it gave him the opportunity to let his fingers out for a walk.
PK : So it was just a bit of fun
Tim : Yeah
PK : Also, it has been suggested that you are now ruing the day you left Factory. You are regretting the day you left Factory.
Gavan : I think we left Factory a bit early
PK : Before you were ready.
Jim : Yeah, we should have gone after dinner
PK : There I was thinking we were having a serious conversation
Jim : It’s true, it’s true
PK : Too early, are you ready now?
Tim : Are we ready?
Gavan : There’s no choice
Jim : We’ve got to be. There’s no point in going backwards. But I think we did leave a bit early
Tim : What do you mean by ready? I mean, what happened was we went on a major record company and they couldn’t see any of our music being potentially commercial so they didn’t put anything behind it. It’s really when they decide that we’re commercially potential, whatever that means. And so God knows whether in their eyes we are or not yet. I doubt it.
PK : Shall we cross fingers. Well anyhow, now a track from that album, the pre-remix version of a track called Charlie Dance and after that we go back to James live. Thank you very much gentlemen.
(plays Charlie Dance)
PK : A track from their forthcoming album, Charlie Dance. And before we go back to Tim and Gavan who will be doing a live song for us in a second, Jim is going to give a little competition for a pair of tickets to their concert at the International 2 on Thursday. Question please, Jim
Jim : Thanks very much Philip. And the question is : Is Ed Bonicki innocent? Answer, yes or no
Tim : Who?
PK : Daley Thompson
Jim : Oh no
PK : Thompson Daley.
Jim : If Thompson’s Daley, is Ed Bonicki innocent?
PK : Answers not on postcard, ring us now on 061-xxx-xxxx to go and see James at the International 2. Now we go over with a flick of switch to Tim and Gavan.
from the Sire Records “Just Say Yes” sampler
You’ll want to call them Jim after getting familiar with their engaging brand of music, but resist the temptation. The name of the group is James; four Manchester-sired men with a lot of music between them.
Five years to be exact, which is how long they’ve been nurturing a mutually creative relationship, playing the local circuit and recording their highly-praised, high-stakes brand of modern pop. James, in fact, has been the good word on the British music scene ever since they released their first singles on the powerhouse Factory Records label not so very long ago.
Snapped up by Sire’s tireless talent scouts, James took to the road, opening for the likes of New Order and The Smiths and all the while honing their already razor-edged songwriting skills. Aural adventurers stateside got their first taste of James on the staggering Stutter, a fresh slice of unadultered innovation, featuring the captivating single “Chain Mail”. Both are produced by Lenny (Suzanne Vega) Kaye.
You can call them Jim or you can call them James. Just remember, music this good deserves respect.
“Ya Ho” from the Sire album IF THINGS WERE PERFECT … Available on LP and Cassette (1/4-25657)
Singer Timothy Booth is describing what life should be like.
“When you think of a dog or a young child, the way they look around when they come into a room. Or a dog going on a walk, smelling something completely new to it. The next day, it’s a whole different thing and the dog has a look of pure joy as it looks around, experiencing all the sensations as they are. Or a child looking at a plant, wanting to touch it or eat it. It’s also living in the present. I’m not making an argument that this is how we should behave all the time because we’d never get out of one room. You’d look over at one corner, turn your back, look over again and it would be a new corner.
“One reason I think people are ill and unhappy in society is because most people are well out of touch with the childlike quality and we all need some of that. Some people look to drugs to get it. You can get it after a lot of sex, when you get that rush of vitality. You get it from concentration. We get it from performing our music. It happens whenever your concentration becomes heightened.
“I’ve had months when life has been really mundane and then something happens and you get that special buzz and want to hold on to it. You wonder why the rest of life isn’t like that, at that level of intensity, at that level of living.”
Are James particularly special?
“Oh yeah!”
Showing up all these contradictory components, incompatible things, a kind of intimate association of opposites. Are James like litmus paper?
“Litmus paper?”
No, not litmus paper, the other thing.
“Oh, the acid test. Yeah, we’re like the acid test.”
It is almost 18 months since James took a tumble with us on the nuptial couch, since “Stutter” found 11 new ways of taunting itself with its own doodles and fear of heights. Now this starving man is back. Drummer Gavan Whelan has been working in a hotel and bassist James Glennie has been flogging second-hand cars. Very James. Very commonplace, very matter-of-fact, very left-handed. The splurge of lopsided obsessions that made up the brilliantly shoddy “Stutter” ultimately failed to persuade a sunken nation like ours to throw its ballet skirts to the wind and bare its thighs and backsides. Indeed, “Stutter”, even considering the way it rushed over the style, failed to provoke so much as a neatly-dressed ankle. Me and James are mystified by this. In fact, if it happens this time around, we’re going to whip some asses sharpish.
“When we finished that first LP,” Larry recalls, “it was the culmination of so many years worth of work focussed in a six-week period, incredibly intense. At the end of it, we thought we’d created a monster and a masterpiece. It came out and we just didn’t touch people with it. You just lose your perspective when things like that happen.”
If slivers of “Stutter” might have proved too far gone for British pop-pickers used to having their meanings written in scarlet tartan, there could be no excuse for overlooking “So Many Ways”, the group’s “Eight Miles High”, three rippling minutes that defied you to keep your knees or your head together. As a single, it was beautifully dressed and powdered and all you killjoys out there in the real world turned your backs.
Together with the rest of “Stutter”, it seemed that this group had abandoned their uncertain, prudent beginnings for something daft and dark, something that was just three gulps short of a minor masterpiece.
James were showing that they needed to be lived with to be understood, that they were too complex and enraptured to settle for a quick roll on the grass-verge behind the youth club. They were obsessional and terribly droll in a way that most pop music is too pious to be. They made you itch in ways that had little to do with your winter woollies or your last hernia, bringing you to a point where you never knew whether to scream or cackle. To most people, though, they were still like oddball deviants caught in the revolving-doors and none of this mattered a hoot.
“Pop is deviant itself”, Tim Booth reminds me. “If David Lynch can have a hit film with ‘Blue Velvet’…well, we’re much less deviant than he is. I think Lynch is too dark. James is full of dark but also full of light.”
Too many wicked curves?
“We like to offset music and lyrics to some degree,” says Larry. “Loads of contradictions because there’s loads of contradictions between four people. A song like ‘Fairground’ is built completely on a contradiction. We were in this terrible black hole of a rehearsal-studio having a huge argument, me and Gavan on one side, Tim and Jim on the other, both sides playing something entirely different, stuck in these separate camps, no unity whatsoever. These two disjointed things were playing along at the same time and we accidentally recorded it. When we listened back, it was brilliant, like galloping horses at a fairground. Where you’ve got this circular motion contradicted by this up and down motion. They go in opposite ways but somehow blend.”
Are you consciously trying to please? Is this why you are making such a din?
“We try to do that, we think, jut by concentrating on exactly what we are doing. Not that we all know our individual parts blindfold. It’s that anticipation of what’s coming next. If that gets picked up by an audience, then there’s a certain thrill of going into unchartered territory that heightens their concentration and their awareness of what’s going on.”
You’ve got to lose yourself. You have to expect your ration of convulsions, palpitations, fainting fits, anxiety attacks and brain fever.
“You’ve got to be right there, right then,” Jim nods, “The kind of losing yourself in a way that you’re not really there to some degree. It’s the build up to things. The best thing about having a present is the moment before you open it. That’s the thrill, knowing you are going to open it.”
There was a hungry look in your eyes when you said that.
“He didn’t get any presents for his birthday and he won’t forget it,” says Larry. “Some group we’re in! I didn’t get one bleeding present either.”
“Ya Ho”, a new James single, presents them to the nation, visibly stimulated in new ways, a song about rescuing people on beaches, about whirlpools, fear of failure and rubbing movements. Dry James, pea-shooting James. This is far from the glazed gusts of “So Many Ways” or the campfire dragnet of “Why So Close”; calm James. Persist with it though. After the bits that go plink and fizz, there’s a marvy (marvellous) bit three-quarters of the way through that manifests itself in ways that are almost indecently flirtatious. Like other new James peaks, particularly the possible follow-up single “What For”, it brings us scarlet mouths, dagger-like peaks, waving arms and a golden clitoris that, believe me, is a pleasure to tango with.
Already “Ya Ho” is meeting some rum reactions, adopted as a terrace anthem in parts of Leeds after a recent James show there, replacing the cry of “Come back Duncan, come back” that has wafted through those cobbled streets for the last 10 years, an obscure reference to Duncan “Golf Ball” Mackenzie, Leeds United’s former post-Revie golden boy. I suspect that this is coy James sticking their tongues out at us as only they know how.
“Actually, it’s a cry of despair”, James Glennie informs me. “It’s ungainly James, experienced and dying to tell a story. It reminds us of the time we left Factory, when Tony Wilson compared us to the Dutch football team of 1974, the Cruyff era, when it didn’t seem like it was trying, because it was all
so natural. Of course, when they started thinking about it, when the next World Cup came around, they were complete crap.”
People still think of you as fey, frightened outsiders. Cissies. Apologetic rather than apoplectic. When are we going to convince people that you have real, six-foot ulcers hidden under those coats.
“A lot of it came about from us being on Factory to start with,” Jim explains, “which affected how people viewed us. There was also the rare, secluded image of James because we didn’t do interviews and didn’t do a lot of live work. We were seen to be withdrawing from the public eye and people thought it was our decision. It built up a kind of mystique but it made us special in a way.”
These days, James seem more lucid, looking none the worse for wear after their prolonged hallucinatory, delirious phase. The phantoms of the troubled “Stutter” appear to be fully exorcised. All those earwigs crawling through lug-‘oles, small twisted figures disappearing into black smelly tunnels, people spontaneously combusting… the obsessions of that first torrid collection of waking nightmares seems purged now, replaced with another copulative beat and another set of clinging compulsions, more inclined to fondle you this time round. Endearing?
“Well, we feel are obsessions are what obsess other people,” reasons Gavan. “This time, we seem to be telling people more about our obsessions instead of just hiding within them. Maybe there’s more sense of distance in that way now. In previous songs, our lyrics have been clear but our meanings haven’t. Our meanings have tended to be perverse. Musically too, we’ve tended to shy away from stating the obvious, not going to the root of things. Now, the lyrics have gone to the root the same way as we’ve kept to the root of the song as musicians. It’s taking it one step further.”
Making for a better James?
“Locating our perversities and making them work for us. Before, we’d get to be so obsessive trying to predict what was going to happen that we’d make what we didn’t want to happen…”
Brain tissue everywhere. Lovely stuff.
You ask the four James rouges what all this nervous shifting really amounts to and you get some words back to poison your brain with.
“Insular? Personal? Tricky? Argumentative. Asking for trouble. Obsessional, of course. Brittle. Awkward. Out of context. Different. Playful. Tony Currie. Socks that don’t match the shoes, very James. A call to arms. Clear. Dense. Overturning one thing and finding another thing beneath it. Not meticulous. Perfectionists. Making things better. Intrigued. Broke. The desirability of men and women foxtrotting together while naked. Acrobatic. No longer so nightmarish. Embezzlement.”
Local indie pop band James return to the fray on record and live – they appear at The Green Room on August 9 and 10, CRAIG FERGUSON (words) and IAN TILTON (photo) meet the foursome.
One moment you’re there, ‘flavour of the month’ taking the slaps on the back, and the next moment you’ve disappeared; a vanishing act, voluntary or otherwise. This, of course, is the very nature of the crazy world of popular music, God bless it. Ups and Downs, Booms and Slumps – it’s very much a cut-price cut-throat market. Suffice to say, nothing’s guaranteed, certainly not success, nor it seems mere activity.
Take James, one of the better bands to emerge from Manchester over the past five years. Having built up a reputation as a superb live band, and with two fine singles on Factory to their credit, James were bound for a major label. They signed to Sire (American-based and part of the WEA empire) providing them with the debut LP Stutter back in the summer of ’86.
For my money, it was a disappointing record While it featured familiar songs of considerable quality, it neither committed the live James sound to vinyl, nor established a parallel studio sound worthy of those songs. But this all seems by the by – the group have been firmly stuck in a frustrating lull since the L.P.
As Gavan puts it. “Last summer? You’re going back a bit there mate!”
A year is a long time – they must have been doing something.
“We played in Europe, worked on lots of new songs and went into the studio, eventually” The tone of Tim’s voice says it all; they could have done so much more. It becomes immediately obvious where the blame lies. James are not happy with the treatment they’ve received from their record company and they make no bones about it.
“It was a mistake not going on tour after the LP came out,” says Tim.
It certainly doesn’t make good business sense to publicise the product before it’s available rather than after. Add to that the lack of funds for advertising in the press, and their more recent awkward stance with regard to the new LP and you can see that this particular band-label relationship isn’t all that it should be. It almost reached the divorce court before Sire relented and gave the band the money they needed for recording.
Tim goes as far to say: “In the last year we’ve had a hell of a lot of business problems – it’s an area none of us want to be bothered with, but we’ve had it forced on us.”
At the risk of labouring the point, the past year has not been a very happy one for James – “the only thing that has kept up going is the music.”
At the mention of music, the room becomes charged with extreme enthusiasm. They’ve just had a month’s break and their thirst for a return to playing is overwhelming:
“You start rehearsing again and sooner or later this thing starts, circling in the middle of the room, and the song starts playing you.”
When Gavan says this, it sounds weird but you know what he means. They all nod in agreement and the passionate feeling is unanimous. Live, James rarely fail to excite, but as everyone knows, getting that excitement onto vinyl is another matter. The first L.P. didn’t work in that respect -“it wasn’t put together very well,” says Jim – and we agree that live sound and recorded sound have to be regarded as two separate ‘mediums’.
Larry: “Hugh Jones who produced the new L.P really slagged us off about Stutter: He said we’d lost so much between the last Factory single and the L.P.”
Gavin: “The sound quality mainly. And I think we were a little more professional about it, working to the principle that ‘less is more’ – there’s more space and thought.”
I take that to mean that they’ve held back at times where usually they’d give it the full James treatment. Gavan doesn’t hold back “It’s a classic! I wouldn’t have bought the first L.P. -I’d have taped it off a mate -I’d definitely buy this one though.” Given that so much was expected of the first L.P., are they not a little apprehensive about this one?
“We’ve had quite a cynical approach towards it, but it’s a much better record,” say! Tim positively.
Sire predictably don’t think James are commercial enough – do they feel any pressure to sound more commercial? “It’s inward pressure as much as anything because we want a bigger audience. We want success -you can only be an impoverished artist for two or three years and no longer; earning a reascnable living is as important as gaining acceptance in the sphere that you’re working in.”
There’s no doubt that the new L.P – untitled as yet but out hopefully in September (Sire permitting) -represents a crossroads on the James road of progress. If it sells they’re laughing, if not, it’s bye bye to Sire. ‘Ya Ho’, the single out in September, may be a good indicator. Whatever happens, the band describe their new work as “wild in variation” with some “truly brilliant moments”. After years on the scene, James are still looked upon as an oddity – something they are positively pleased about. It’s not the personuel who are odd but possibly their approach -they shy away from convention, be it the song or the method. The identity they were given a couple of years ago – folk-singing vegans -is less true than it ever was, just the usual case of picking out extremes. Unfortunately, people have a habit of reading, believing and remembering. “The Bodines thought we all lived together in a big house in the country!” Jim laughs. Happily, James are set to re-emerge from the darkness of a long, quiet year. They’re dying to do what they do best -what’s so odd about that?
Sounds: August 1986 – In fear of earwigs crawling through their heads, these strange James boys tell Jonh Wilde about the bizarre phobias creeping through their pop music. Photo debris by Ian T. Tilton
Eighteen months ago, James were just born and didn’t give interviews because “people hadn’t heard the music and we wanted them to decide what it was like before they took another person’s opinion”.
These days, four singles and one LP forward, they’ll talk until their tongues start rattling about in their heads and their faces turn purple.
These days, they concentrate madly and try to make the chat as consuming as their extremely strange records. Today they tell me they’re being pensive because I’m being pensive, but it’s not always like this.
“We thought about suicide all the time, we didn’t see any other point in living, we at least wanted to go out with a bang. It seemed very romantic, and we came pretty close.”
Then came Factory, plucking them from the dusty corners, and their ambitions swerved away from hara-kiri and toward “making an album as good as ‘Horses’ or ‘Prayers On Fire’”. They settled, temporarily, for a brace of enticingly scruffy singles, little fussed over but beautifully insecure.
James were likely to remain a snug but slovenly concern.
The bee crept into the bonnet and started to hum with some true spite earlier this year. ‘Chain Mail’, part of their Sire ‘Sit Down’ EP, tipped the wink to crystalline melodies and purged words. James were scraping all the crusty bits from their Y-fronts and starting anew.
And last month came ‘So Many Ways’, some of the holiest pop of this year, James truly gasping at us, at last.
Now their debut LP ‘Stutter’ gets word-drunk and the fetching, bespectacled Tim Booth is telling me that his song about earwigs crawling through your head, ‘Skullduggery’, comes from his kindergarten memory of “being told that earwigs crawl through your ear if you lie down on grass. I only realised it was a fib the middle of last week”.
There are many such rum moments to be found on ‘Stutter’, at its best a copulation between Syd Barrett’s ‘Baby Lemonade’, the Velvets’ ‘The Murder Mystery’ and some of The Laughing Clowns. Oh, bugger it, James don’t sound much like anyone anymore, snubbing a nose at foolhardy Smiths analogies, saving up their spittle for the mirth and madness that spills from their vinyl pores.
“What are we like now?” muses the bearded Gavan, after just admitting he’s the most likely member of James to plot a murder. “Frightening, uplifting, scared at the world and its surroundings, not so much complaining as reflecting”.
“People have picked up on that madness, but then go on to treat it like Half Man Half Biscuit or something; otherwise, some really neurotic noise. It might be schizoid but we see it as something joyous… accepting all the mad energies.”
With Tim looking on dubiously, Gavan tells me, “It’s like there’s a fifth thing going on, like a fifth member directing everything.”
Whatever goes, they’ve hurdled far since those old death wishes, now emerging as Manchester’s best sandblasted racket. With ‘Stutter’ beside them and their future no longer behind them, they shape up as a prime slice of high fiction.
“You can almost imagine this character, James, wandering around outside there,” Tim suggests. “He’s probably dark and light and funny as hell…”
Probably one of those tourists of the emotions, pecking here and there, a contrary sod, miles and miles of celibate lust. James are dragging some welcome jive-ass jabber back into view, their scribbles packed with doubletalk.
Their potential, so to speak, is far behind them. Four plain James, losing the gravel pit for the sweat pit, singing “trying to impress is the nature of our work”.
These four grinning skulls write about lads called Johnny Yen who run down the street with their clothes on fire. They sensitively note that “to be loving when the lights are out takes much courage” in the sobbing ‘Really Hard’.
All in all, they tell me that “without getting too involved, the meanings come out all displaced, but the characters in the songs somehow emerge as real, maybe slightly surreal”.
So ‘Stutter’ reels with much erratic brilliance, a grainy soundtrack to fickle moods and shifting perspectives. Their hurried jangle is inhabited by characters halfway between a lovelorn swoon and a nervous fit. The greatest plus is that their music no longer has any centre, it merely flurries from some strange, unknown corner.
James are looking at me, almost scolding.
“People get so psychological about us,” Tim tells me. “People don’t really know where to put us. Those that call us ‘hippy’ get contradicted and confused when they see all these other sides.”
“What we do,” Gavan intercepts, “is push and shove and look at things with a different perspective. Like being a kid, when you go out to the park and look at nature differently, it fascinates you. As you grow older, you look at a tree and it’s just a tree.”
You must be barmy.
“James don’t take those things for granted, that’s all.”