Setlist
Sit Down / Oh My Heart / Curse Curse / Sound / Jam J / Come Home / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) / Laid
Support
n/a
Review
n/a
Sound
Jam J
Out To Get You
Born Of Frustration
Moving On
Curse Curse
Five-O
Laid
None.
None.
Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)
Come Home
Tomorrow / Sound / Moving On / Top Of The World / Laid
Johnny Yen / Waltzing Along / Curse Curse / Sit Down / Sometimes / Laid
Interview with Tim
None.
A wakeboarding festival in the middle of Wales with a predominantly teenage audience isn’t a natural fit for bands from the last century. However, James and Echo and the Bunnymen prove there’s no substitute for great tunes.
First things first, I have no idea what wakeboarding is. Still don’t. And there probably wasn’t much of it going on in the main festival site. Wakestock is a very young festival and the majority of the audience probably weren’t born at the time both James and the Bunnymen were in their prime or even bothering the lower regions of the singles charts, so it’s quite an interesting line up. The set up is unusual too, with both stages next to each other in the same tent so we go from the Bunnymen, to Wretch three two (not thirty-two, it’s important) to James to Rudimental. It’s a strange contrast, but actually what you learn is that there’s no substitute for great tunes. The difference is that the Bunnymen and James just rely on those tunes yet Wretch 32 and Rudimental have great tunes, they just choose to ruin them by having some bloke shouting “bounce bounce” or that someone “has given their all, give it up for them” over the top of them.
We’re not sure if it’s the hot weather or the dark tent fitting in well with his ubiquitous shades, but Ian McCulloch seems in a good mood. Maybe it’s the surprisingly positive response the Bunnymen get given the average age of the audience. It shouldn’t be a surprise though. Even given the rumoured fractions within the band, they still have a back catalogue that puts most bands to shame and we get a smattering of their finest moments from The Cutter to The Killing Moon and the response they get shows that they’ve either won the kids over or there’s still hope for proper guitar music and it’s the business that’s trying to put the nail in the coffin of it, not the audience.
We’re treated to Wretch Three Two (get it right) who are actually quite entertaining over on the other stage when you ignore the rubbish attempts at crowd interaction and focus on their tunes before James make it to the stage for their headline set. Headline set being an hour in Wakestock terms. It’s actually a wonderfully organised festival with some excellent food stalls, very well laid out bars and toilets, it’s just slightly misleading on what you get from a headliner and the frankly taking the piss £20 charge for parking.
Anyway, James open up with Sound. A kid next to me moans they’re not playing hits. To be fair to him he knows most of the songs; to be unfair, he doesn’t realise this is their second most successful single. James are at that awkward moment where they’ve not released anything for nearly three years and therefore don’t have “current” material that people know so there’s an expectation of the hits and they deliver on that without this just being a roll out of the obvious songs. Ring The Bells is a fierce fiery call to arms that has the kids singing back the chorus even though it was recorded before most of them were born.
Next up is the first of two new songs called Curse Curse. It was premiered at Thetford a month ago and this is its second outing. It has all the hallmarks of a great James song, but it does demonstrate the risks that James take in showing songs to their public before they’re laid down and finished. They’re in the middle of recording a new album for release early next year and this already feels like one of the key songs. The chorus is done and will become a classic singalong, however the verses still sound like a work in progress lyrically as they’re very different from the version at Thetford (which actually sounded pretty much done). You can’t imagine, and they haven’t, The Stone Roses braving a new song live before it’s been fully nailed down in the studio. The great thing is though that there’s still bands out there not afraid to take risks with new material rather than just resting back on their laurels.
However, you can’t not go back to the back catalogue, especially at festival shows like this. Come Home has Tim out in the crowd on the barrier and the outstretched arms trying to grab him are those of kids younger than his own – showing how great music can break down those barriers of what you’re supposed to like and what’s cool to like.
They do then go a little self-indulgent in that we don’t get a run of hits, but the as-yet-unreleased-in-studio-form-but-over-thirty-years-old Stutter, which ends with a three drum onslaught and Tim singing whilst playing keyboards as Saul smashes Larry’s guitar with drumsticks as strobes flash around the tent. It drops into the more gentle soothing Out To Get You which finishes with a magnificent violin solo from Saul.
They finish with a run of four singles (or future singles). Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) has sort of become a James anthem and encapsulates the ethos of the band. It only hit the mid-twenties in the charts when Universal half-heartedly promoted the final pre-split album Pleased To Meet You, but it became a fan favourite. Moving On is likely to be the next single early next year and is the most accessible thing they’ve written since the reunion, if only radio, other than a few long-term supporters like Geoff Lloyd and Pete Mitchell, would actually play a new James song.
They finish with two songs that get the crowd bouncing as much as they do for Wretch 32 and the surprisingly good (when you discount the bloke shouting bounce bounce) Rudimental. Sit Down is a call to arms and a song of unity that crosses the generation gap – there’s a point where two young girls on the shoulders of their friends hug each other as Tim sings “those who find themselves ridiculous” that feels like age and being cool no longer matters. Laid, with Tim bouncing up and down on a monitor, has the whole place singing along to the first verse before Tim starts singing it.
You have to hope that the rather surreal line-up actually serves its purpose and someone somewhere had a master plan to introduce the youth of today to bands that are still as relevant today as they were years ago if only they were given the respect and coverage they deserve. James and the Bunnymen are a perfect introduction.
Wembley Stadium. Not many bands get to play there, and even fewer at the specific invitation of one of the biggest bands in the world. But that’s the unspoken whispered respect that James have from some of them, not that the music press would ever print that.
On just over an hour after doors, the standing area of the stadium is fairly full but the seats haven’t filled up when James start. They open with Sound, an interesting choice as although it was a top ten single, it’s not the most immediately recognisable songs in their back catalogue. The sound takes a few minutes to tweak as well before it starts to sound great on the floor. Necessity of time constraints mean it doesn’t get the extended sections where they can improvise. They go straight into Ring The Bells and you can see they still feel at home on the bigger stages, Tim prowling the stage urging the others on. The reaction so far is mixed, there’s pockets of people dancing, there’s some people in Killers shirts who start to remember who they are and some even start singing along, but, as with all big music crowds, there’s some there just for the main act.
Sometimes is as vivid and evocative as ever and there’s no attempt to start a sing-along. The mood is taken down a bit for Out To Get You, which hasn’t been played a lot recently and has benefited from the rest. They can’t resist some improvisation on this one and Saul’s violin takes centre stage as they lose themselves in the music. The improvisation sadly means they are running out of time already and they have to drop Moving On, which is a shame as it would have been a fantastic opportunity to show new people that they’re still making great music. They go into Getting Away With It (All Messed Up), which feels strangely flat for some reason, but they go into a raucous bouncing Sit Down and suddenly there’s more of a reaction. Tim tells us he wanted to come down into the crowd but wasn’t allowed because of Health and Safety. They finish off with a crazily ragged version of Laid.
It’s way too short a set for a band of James’ calibre and back catalogue and never an easy one to judge. The sensible approach is that they need to play songs people know or may recall on hearing them yet that goes against their natural instincts as a band. They were gutted at having to drop Moving On and there were so many other songs they could have crammed in, but for what they had to play with they did a great job and hopefully gained some new fans or reclaimed some older ones in the process.
James fans have long demanded a forest gig. Thoughts of a triumphant sort of homecoming at Delamere afforded to some of the city’s other favourite sons would rank up there with their other live highlights. Instead we’re afforded a damp Thursday evening in a beautiful forest in the middle of Norfolk (or is it Suffolk, I can never work out where Thetford is). This is reflected in a disappointing poor turnout, particularly as the rain clouds hit the area early evening when wavering punters would have been making last minute decisions.
Such things have never worried James though. They start off with a trio of more familiar hits – Waltzing Along, Ring The Bells and a drawn-out elongated version of Sound. Tim states they want to mix it up a bit from the recent April tour, hence the reappearance of Ring The Bells and Tomorrow later on in the set. Waltzing Along benefitted from a rebirth in April and it still sounds revitalised from the more tired versions of previous years. Sound stops and then starts again at the end with the band going into a free-form improvisation that takes the song to over ten minutes. The magical thing about James is that they resist the urge to just regurgitate their best-known material and rest on their laurels.
Tim’s on good form, joking that there’s no violin for the next song which is Five-O from the Laid album. Saul Davies’ violin is a much underused weapon in James’ armoury, but not on this song. It drifts through the night air as the beautiful extended intro builds into the main body of the song. Laid is twenty years old in October, but you’d never get tired of hearing songs like this especially when they breeze such new life into them with regularity. Next up is the equally wonderful Of Monsters And Heroes And Men from their 2008 Hey Ma album.
We then get the first new song of the evening called Let Us Die, which seems to be continuing the theme of the new songs about death, loss and changing situations with lyrics enquiring about how to “put this vehicle in reverse” and talking of “all we used to know”. It’s still a work in progress, but it sounds extremely promising for the first time it has been played to an audience.
They go back to the more familiar for How Was It For You? which gets people dancing, but rather than settle into a row of hits, they go back to another track from Hey Ma. I Wanna Go Home is almost them showing off. What’s a relative simple plaintive song on the album is transformed into a monster live. It starts off all unassuming with Tim half singing half whispering before kicking into an extended end section where Tim holds a note for over a minute whilst the other six create an ascending cacophony of noise before descending back into almost quiet reflection.
Speaking of cacophony, Stutter is the song that should define it. This song appeared on their first demo tape in 1982 and was the first aborted mix of the Strip-Mine album five years later, but as yet it hasn’t made a release in studio form. They’d be foolish to think of recreating it in that environment. It finishes with three of them playing drums, Tim on keyboards and Saul playing Larry’s white guitar with a drumstick whilst strobe lights fly around the arena.
Back to the more familiar. Seven, which was ignored pretty much after Alton Towers in 1992, has found its way back into favour, even opening up their first show back in 2007. Similarly, Just Like Fred Astaire, like most of Millionaires, went through a phase of being excluded from set-lists despite it being a fan favourite. Tim goes out to the barrier and sings most of the song perched on it with only the strong arm of one of the crowd for support.
The second new song Curse Curse is a bit more immediate. Tim has his lyrics on his Ipad, Saul jokes that he has a distinct advantage over the rest of them and that they may end up looking like dickheads. It’s a typically brave James move unveiling new songs in venues like this. The song itself is driven by a pounding drumbeat with flourishes of trumpet and has a hook line of “praise the lord and kiss me on the mouth” and, like the best of James’ back catalogue, it feels like there’s three or four songs all fighting to burst out of one. At the end Tim tells us that it’ll be amazing once we get to know it. It already feels like it could be a special song, even amongst the seven they’ve now previewed from the album they start recording on Monday.
The final new song is Moving On. It’s the most immediate obvious radio song that they’ve done since they got back together in 2007. It’s ostensibly about the death of Tim’s mother, but it could be interpreted as a song about someone making drastic changes of any sort in their life with lyrics such as “now my bags are packed and my sails are tied and my course is marked by stars”.
Johnny Yen is James in one song. It endures because it’s forever changing. It’s transformed from a simple four minute song from their debut album into a sprawling nine-minute partly improvised beast. It never sounds the same twice as well.
The set is completed by a trio of their best known and most popular hits. Tomorrow is one of those three-and-a-bit minute nuggets of indie-guitar perfection that they knocked out with alarming regularity in the 1990s. Sit Down has been reclaimed from daytime radio as an anthem to be proud of rather than to hide away in the cupboard. It joins everyone in unison singing along bringing a sense of community into the forest. It also has a wonderful piece of improvisation by Mark on where he brings the song back up unexpectedly with his keyboards and the others join in. They finish the main set with a lop-sided elastic Come Home, a song that doesn’t ever feel like it’s aged despite being older than some of the crowd around me.
The encore is in similar vein. Saul jokes that the first one is another new one, but it’s Getting Away With It (All Messed Up). The song has almost become their anthem despite it only being a minor hit on release in 2001. It’s the one song that you couldn’t imagine them not playing now. The evening is brought to a conclusion by Sometimes and Laid. I’d bemoaned the fact that this has finished their set for the past few years and had become a bit predictable, but they’ve ditched the insistence on trying to get the audience to sing along with Sometimes, letting it happen naturally when the crowd takes it, and it feels alive and vibrant again and a fitting way to finish a two-hour set of the hits, the obscure and the new.
Whilst this wasn’t the best gig they’ve done this year and the crowd was disappointing in size, they’re still streets ahead of their more critically acclaimed contemporaries that are milking the reformation cow dry without delivering anything tangible in terms of either new material or fresh takes on their classic back catalogues.
The evening is opened up by the magnificent Frazer King. They appear, although I didn’t get it confirmed when Nathan jumped me half way through James’ set, to have undergone a line-up change. They’d been invited by James to support them and Larry has been involved with the production of their forthcoming album. As ever, they come across as fairly shambolic and controversial, but that, in its own perverse way, is their charm. Nathan chides people for getting offended by their lyrics before a song questioning the roots of religion. I’m not quite sure what the seated visitors to the forest made of them as this isn’t their natural environment, but they’re progressing to sounding like a damn fine band.
James completed a sold-out ten date tour of the UK with a show at Manchester’s MEN Arena last night. We were there to witness a triumphant homecoming of a band looking backwards to move on with old favourites and future classics.
James are a band that don’t play by traditional rules. Dismissed ridiculously in some quarters as one-hit wonders (nineteen top forty singles), they can still achieve top 10 albums (Hey Ma) that elude most of what the industry horribly describe as “heritage” bands without any substantial record company support and play to 15,000 crowds in their hometown and sell out a tour in the rest of the UK.
They could take the easy route tonight and just play hit after hit and Manchester on a Friday night would melt in their arms. But, as when they toyed with the precipice of mega-stardom when they were the biggest band in the UK for twelve short months between the success of Sit Down and their 30,000 capacity live on Radio One show at Alton Towers in 1991/2, tonight they take the long winding route of musical integrity, improvisation, songs so new that Tim needed lyric sheets for one that makes them simply the most thrilling and unpredictable live band in the country.
Of the 21 songs they played, 12 were hit singles, enough for the casual fan and with some inspirational sing-alongs in there, but there’s two new songs, Interrogation and Moving On, which with familiarity will rank alongside those hits when they get released in 2014, the as yet unreleased in studio form Stutter which dates back to 1981, Fire So Close from their debut EP, two songs from Hey Ma (Of Monsters And Heroes And Men and I Wanna Go Home) which show that they can still write music that moves the body and the soul and other choice album tracks from their phenomenal back catalogue. Songs like Ring The Bells, Tomorrow and Say Something, which would form a career highpoint for the majority of the hip-and-trendy indie-by-numbers pedalled by the NME aren’t needed.
Tim Booth is the obvious star in the band and the focus of most of the adulation of the crowd. His boundless energy, shamanic trance-like dancing, starting Lose Control up in the level one seats, his engagement with the audience to the point tonight of walking on the shoulders of the front few rows during Just Like Fred Astaire, his continued look of genuine amazement at the response from the audience and his voice, which like fine wine has matured with age allowing him to hold notes longer than some bands’ songs, all make him one of the most unique, unmissable frontmen in the business.
James always have, and always will be, about more than Tim though. Larry Gott’s guitar work, so missed during his absence in the late 90s, simply takes the breath away as he improvises sections of songs, even those from the period when he was absent. Saul Davies, on violin and guitar, is the agitator in the band, that unpredictable spark that drives the band and his violin playing, in particular, takes songs like Laid’s Five-O into places you wouldn’t go at a rock concert. He laughs and jokes with Tim and the audience throughout. Andy Diagram prowls the stage with his trumpet adding flourishes and breathing new life into songs from across the back catalogue. The whole thing is underpinned, without playing down their contributions, by Jim Glennie on bass, Dave Baynton-Power on drums and Mark Hunter on keyboards, all essential parts of creating that framework for the others to paint on.
There’s points in the set where you see the chemistry that makes them so exciting on stage. Tim playfully prods Larry at one point when he’s in an improvised section of a song, at various points two, three or four of the band will come together, look each other direct in the eyes and drive each other on to do something out of character, something different which will make that version of that particular song different tonight from any other night. Manchester loves the hits obviously. Sit Down ends up as a ten-minute communal sing-along when the band stop playing – the Comic Relief sketch that used it appears to have convinced them that it’s not a song to be ashamed of but to love, celebrate and cherish. And that’s exactly what it is. There’s not a more engaging group call to arms and celebration of togetherness in the annals of the musical history of this great city
Sometimes has a crowd versus choir sing-off, Come Home has 15,000 people hollering Tim’s tale of self-loathing back at him as a form of catharsis and Laid starts off with the song played slowed right down with Tim being drowned out before descending into a riot with stage invasions including Peter Kay with a guitar as they start again hell for leather.
James are a one-off. Bands don’t sound like them or get compared to them, basically because they’re incomparable. Criminally, they’ve never had that critical acclaim reserved for the likes of many of their peers, because they refuse to play by those traditional rules that the industry dictates and because, in a world where fame and money is king, they’re all about the music and that connection it makes between band and audience. The only way they can be sure of challenging their audience is by challenging themselves. This wasn’t a gig, this was a life experience to a soundtrack of love and fear and hate and tears.