Setlist
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Review
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Sound / What For / Lose Control / Johnny Yen / Sunday Morning / Seven / Born of Frustration / Don’t Wait That Long / Heavens / Come Home / Stutter / How Was It For You?
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We arrived at the Paradise at about 12:30 p.m. There was nobody there, only some roadies who were unloading the truck. The band had not arrived yet, so we made ourselves comfortable on the pavement in front of the venue. Sometime later a German girl joined us. I had already met her at a Morrissey concert in 1991, so we had a lot of things to talk about while for James to arrive.
A few times the tour bus stopped in front of us but it was always empty. A few hours later we were joined by two more fans. And then, finally, at 5:30 James arrived. I think they were quite surprised to find five people waiting outside. The first one who got out of the bus was my favourite member: Andy Diagram.
Although I was half paralysed, I some-how managed to walk up to him and ask for an autograph. The rest of the band hurried inside, but Tim Booth stayed outside for a few minutes and talked to us and gave autographs.
At 7:30 the other fans started to arrive. It didn’t become very crowded, though, not even when the doors opened at 8:00. We went inside as fast as we could, but it wasn’t really necessary, as not many people seemed to be interested in the front row. The Paradiso is a very small venue – I guess it has a capacity of 500 people but it wasn’t even sold out.
James started playing at 10:20. They were very late because the support band had cancelled their performance at the last minute – Tim explained.
The concert was absolutely great. Everybody stared at Tim’s dancing in amazement and the songs so sounded very good live. James got very bad reviews in Holland, but I think most people who were there didn’t agree with the critics.
After the last encore “How was it for you” l managed to climb on the nearly 1.50m high stage. Strangely enough I was the only one who got one stage (try that at a Morrissey-concert!). I ran to Andy, who hadn’t even noticed me climbing on the stage – only Tim had noticed… and I kissed him and told him how wonderful he was. He was very shy and only said “Thank you” twice. I hurried off the stage then, because I didn’t feel very comfortable in front of such a crowd.
The concert was one of the best I’ve ever seen, and I really hope they’ll come back to the Netherlands very, very soon…
Anita van Lieshout
Breugel, Holland
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Steven Daly, NME
Somehow James managed to omit one tiny detail on their rise to the top – they forgot to visit the USA. The group has been kept at an arm’s length by the sceptics, just another English hype to be given the cold, appraising eye when they venture across the foam. So here’s the magnificent seven, making their LA debut in an intimate boite set among the tattoo parlours and Heavy Metal whorehouses of Sunset Strip.
A roar from the faithful and polite applause from the assembled industry ponytails (goatees if they’re really daring) greet James’ appearance on the Roxy’s tiny stage. No crowd-pleasers they open with “Ex-Lover” building slowly through “Love Can Mean Anything” and “Hymn From A Village” before Booth mounts the monitors, flailing in familiar style. Obviously relishing the small room, James seem less than anxious to justify their British reputation, veering from likeably loose to rehearsal-room casual.
An urgent “Sound” moves things up a gear, though, and the band emphasise the point with “Come Home”; while “How Was It For You?” provokes a bout of moshing, which Booth regards with concerned bemusement.
Though James are currently labouring under accusations of stadium pomp and invidious comparisons, their return to human scale performance recalls a rarely-mentioned precursor. Booth’s stubbornly limited vocal range, and the locked-in rhythmic tension that chases each song to an orgasmic climax recalls no other than Live 69-era Velvet Underground in expanded form.
Tim Booth returns for the encore sporting a “james suck” T-shirt, and the band casually convert the few remaining doubters with a searing “Born of Frustration”. Though it now sounds almost perfunctory, “Sit Down” provokes a couple of dozen enthusiasts to invade the stage and assume the customary position. “What do you think this is? A hippy sit-in?” Booth intones dryly. “You’re just a bunch of sentimentalists” he adds before relinquishing the mic : “Now you entertain us.” The band falls silent for the ritual singalong until Larry distractedly starts to noodle away at the American national anthem.
And that’s all folks. James decide they’ve had enough, and shuffle off on an oddly desultory note, Los Angeles loves James, but it’s not clear if the feeling is mutual.
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