Setlist
Sound / Say Something / Sometimes / Come Home / Just Like Fred Astaire / Sit Down / Laid / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) / Moving On / Seven
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Review
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Sound / Say Something / Sometimes / Come Home / Just Like Fred Astaire / Sit Down / Laid / Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) / Moving On / Seven
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James concluded their touring for the year with a twenty-three song set in the cavernous surroundings of the MEO Arena in Lisbon. Urged on by a fanatical Portuguese crowd they made the hall feel intimate as they ran through eight tracks from their recent La Petite Mort album as well as classic singles and rarities from their back catalogue.
The La Petite Mort tour came to a conclusion in Lisbon, scene of James’ unforgettable performance at Rock In Rio a couple of years ago and this was their first visit since then. The 20,000 MEO Arena was an ambitious choice of venue, but they still pulled in a crowd in excess of what they get in most British cities, testament to their undying appeal here.
They start with Tim walking through the crowd with Andy singing Lose Control. Immediately you feel the enthusiasm and vigour of the Portuguese audience, the noise almost drowning out the music as they cheer and clap along. It’s a theme of the evening, as it was in Guimaraes the previous night, none of the incessant chatter from the wings that you get in Britain. The Portuguese don’t get bands coming here as if on a conveyor belt and they make sure they enjoy every minute of it when they do.
Oh My Heart is the first of two tracks from 2008’s reunion album Hey Ma, which has generally been ignored throughout this tour, and it’s an unusual choice for the first full band song of the evening as opposed to a more obvious crowd pleaser, but its soaring chorus where Tim Booth implores his heart to “come break me in two” is sung back by 10,000 voices with arms and camera phones raised in salute of one of Portugal’s more unlikely musical heroes.
The band are on good form tonight. Tim thanks the crowd with the only Portuguese word he claims to know before Saul Davies, once a resident of Porto, speaks to the crowd. Tim jokes that Saul’s probably talking dirty in Portuguese. It’s reassuring to note how well they are interacting up on stage this year as it’s that which drives their creativity and their instinctive ability to jam new ideas into songs and get themselves out of trouble when things start to go wrong technically.
Walk Like You and Frozen Britain are two of the high points of a series of peaks on this year’s La Petite Mort album. As the gig is being filmed we’re treated to eight of the ten songs from the record. The former clocks in at over eight minutes and feels like three songs rolled into once as it muses on the parent / child relationship whilst musically it’s a song that opens up so many possibilities and never quite sounds the same every night. Frozen Britain was the first focus track (single) from the album and has been (in my view wrongly) somewhat overshadowed by the big guns of Moving On and Curse Curse, but live that guitar hook is an invitation to dance and throw off the shackles. It’s a joyful exclamation of finding love after a series of let downs, there’s sexual overtones mixed in there as there are in many of the lyrics which the crowd around us sing back to him word for word.
Seven is the first of the songs from the album of the same name that broke them here and it turns the already feverish atmosphere up a notch further. Probably exhausted from all his exertions over the past three weeks, and he tells us later he’s getting by on sticky tape and ibuprofen, Tim goes down on to the barrier to sing and crouches down as the song reaches its “love can mean anything” conclusion. Tonight love means James, the adulation the band have here is unlike anything I’ve seen with them anywhere else.
Curse Curse and Laid are like a match made in heaven together in the set, their central themes, their joie-de-vivre making them blood relatives and they both induce the whole hall to bounce along to their rampant hedonism and slightly cheeky slightly disconcerting lyrics about sex and desire. Tim takes to the crowd, surfing over a sea of arms, many ignoring his request to put the camera phones down and live for the present and not save it for later. It takes a brave man in his fifties (he calls himself an “antique”) to put himself in that vulnerable position, but you see the joy on his face and the people he goes out and connects with and James make ultimate perfect sense in those moments, a group of outsiders coming together and celebrating that very fact.
They go right back to their early days for first single What’s The World, which sounds as fresh and vibrant thirty one years after its release as it did back then. It’s been adapted for the times, no more so than in Dave Baynton-Power’s opening drum salvo, and toughened up to allow it to fight with the better-known big hitters around it. The Portuguese crowd probably don’t know it, but they don’t care, they’re here to party and dance and they love it. Next up is I Wanna Go Home, not played in the UK, but tonight it’s a real show-stopper despite Tim’s claims to not remember the lyrics, building, brooding, hovering over the red-hot atmosphere until the key change where everything comes crashing in, guitars, violins, bass, keys and drums in a crescendo of noise that departs as suddenly as it arrives leaving Tim’s voice on its own for the conclusion “I am dying”.
All Good Boys has been the revelation of the tour, a discarded b-side the band admit to have forgotten about until recently (and guitarist Larry Gott, who wasn’t in the band when it was released, never having even heard it until tour rehearsals), but which fills rooms like this perfectly. The group vocals approach to the refrain is something James don’t do very often and Saul gets to sing a whole verse as a contrast to Tim. It’s powerful and testament to the quality and depth of their back catalogue that they can pull a gem like this out of the hat.
Quicken The Dead hasn’t seen much time on this tour, but it’s clearly one of Tim’s favourites and he explains that it’s a summation of the themes of La Petite Mort, that it’s important to live with death at your shoulder and to kiss those that you love. It’s a curious almost-waltz in parts, not what you’d expect from a James song, but it fits ideally into the set tonight.
Just Like Fred Astaire is one of James’ most popular and most requested songs and one that they’ve shied away from playing regularly until this tour. It’s a song that connects with their audience in a different way to most James songs – it’s not fighting self-doubt, relationship issues, death, it’s a pure unadultered declaration and love and not surprising that so many James fans have got married to this song. Lisbon is united in one big expression of its own love.
Tim jokes that the next song is one that no one gets married to unless they’re dark. The front rows gesticulate wildly to Tim that the second microphone he uses to sing this song (the same one that’s failed a couple of times on Greenpeace) isn’t working so we’re treated a wild instrumental section of Jam J, complete with a show-stopping light extravaganza. Tim tells us it’s not how you fuck up that matters, it’s how you handle it, before they kick it up again and Tim grabs the megaphone and goes with that and rescues the song and without the distortion it feels different to the other nights on the tour, an accident resulting in something unique. It’s not the type of thing you’d associate with James, but hidden away on Wah Wah there’s a few pieces of this industrialist jam-fuelled material that will shock and delight you if you’ve never investigated it (see also Honest Joe).
They take the mood back down for two tracks from Laid, James’ most popular album here. Dream Thrum showcases a different side to James, the almost heraldic nature of the lyrics being suppressed by understated guitar that makes it feel like a beautiful musical interlude in the midst of what’s going on around it. We’re further soothed by PS, the dark spite of the lyrics being enveloped by James’ mastery at these lower volumes, evidenced by both Jim Glennie’s spine-tingling bass and then when Saul takes centre stage with his violin. This is the James that makes people fall in love with them, the flip side to the big hits, the songs with a different gamut of musical excellence, improvisational genius and the desire to take risks and play these type of songs whilst other bands churn out album tracks that are mere imposters and weaker siblings of their singles. The Portuguese crowd respect this in a way that would shame some of the louder UK crowds this year. This continues for recent single All I’m Saying, a eulogy to his close friend Gabrielle Roth. As they play it, a guy stood near us closes his eyes, looks up and sings every word with his eyes closed.
Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) sees Tim back out in the crowd surfing, the song being another favourite in Portugal. Whilst it’s James theme tune, it translate to mean something to everyone in the hall, it’s a big two fingers to convention and fitting in and very apt for the traditional Portuguese approach to life where they’re proud to be different and proud of their culture and history. It’s why this band are so loved by the people here. They then kick into Moving On, Tim dedicating it to anyone who’s lost anyone, but something goes awry at the start of it so Saul leads the audience in a chant of the punchline of the previous song. Moving On feels like as much like a song of union and communion as Sit Down does – it’s a collective arm round everyone else’s shoulder and that’s why James are so special to so many people.
Tim handpicks people out of the audience as the rumbling bass intro of Gone Baby Gone echoes around the room, giving them strict instructions that they’re there to dance. He bravely suggests people should make a run to get on stage, and fortunately no one takes him up on it otherwise the stage might not have held the weight of people. The song itself has been one of the unexpected revelations of the tour. It’s been cut loose, given a new life of its own, it’s a bit ragged around the edges compared to the studio version, it gets extended out to allow Tim to dance with each of those pulled up on stage (as well as Larry joining in and spinning one of the dancers round) making it unpredictable, Tim plays with the lyrics, but it’s got everything that’s core to what makes James special.
After the night before’s events in Guimaraes when they invited thirty local Nicolinos drummers on stage for Sound, it’s a hard act to follow, but what they do is to simply follow their own commands in the song, taking up the invitation to leave themselves behind, do something out of character and show us something they’ve never done before. It’s another song that’s benefited from a rest because they’re now still playing around with it, keeping its freshness and vibrancy and never resting on their laurels. It’s accompanied by a light show that’s every bit as wild and improvised in parts as the music.
Born Of Frustration and Interrogation open the encore proceedings. The former is another song with particular resonance here, the song that started to open doors for them in 1992 when they first came to Lisbon, the latter evidence that with La Petite Mort that they haven’t lost the ability to create songs that transcend the usual verse / chorus routine of so many bands’ complete works. Live, the dramatic twists and turns of the song are multiplied as it builds to the judgement section and then is taken away from us as it soars to its instrumental conclusion.
Sometimes is really the only fitting end to the gig and the tour. It’s the song here that is most identified with them, the one that gets local pulses raising the most. As it drops down the crowd take over, Tim goes surfing again, putting not just himself but the song in the hands of the audience, but it’s a safe pair. The seated area are all on their feet, the band exchange elated glances as they take control back from the crowd and improvise the song to its conclusion. There’s nothing you can do to follow this, not even one of the many big hitters that are conspicuous by their absence tonight (Sit Down, Ring The Bells, Tomorrow, Come Home, Say Something, Waltzing Along et al). It feels like it’s never going to end until people lose their voices.
Whilst the tour has had celebratory moments like this throughout and seen some unusual revelations (All Good Boys, Go To The Bank, Greenpeace), it’s fitting that the songs from La Petite Mort have nested themselves in the setlist and steadfastly refused to budge and be muscled aside. The crowd reactions throughout, both in the UK and Portugal, showed that it’s cemented its place as a favourite already and they still have that same ability to connect and touch with their audience as they had when people first heard them.
James opened their short two-date tour of Portugal with a sold out show at the Multiusos de Guimaraes and a nod to the local Pinheiro festival as well as tracks from their 2014 La Petite Mort alongside back catalogue classics.
Tonight’s 5,000 capacity show is sold-out, testament to the popularity of James in Portugal. Guimaraes is a city of 150,000 people – equivalent to the size of Canterbury to put that into perspective, although the queues of cars still outside the venue an hour after James left the stage suggests that the crowd came from far and wide to pay homage to their unlikely heroes.
They open with Walk Like You, the opening song from La Petite Mort, and the Portuguese fans break into clapping, some of them not stopping from the opening bars of this right through to the close of Sometimes. It’s a song built for big halls like this, the big bold sound contrasting with the parental advice to a child in the lyrics. Frozen Britain has a similar feel, its opening chords unmistakable and with enough room in the song for Tim to dance, and there’s an element of the crowd tonight that are fixated on his every move so there’s a mid-song roar when he starts.
Perhaps due to the height of the stage creating a sense of distance that needs blowing away, Tim ventures down into the pit and then into the seats that flank the arena, perching precariously on a barrier, for Seven. Whilst Sometimes and Laid were what cemented Portugal’s love of James, it was with Seven that they first toured here and it’s these songs that get the best reactions tonight.
Next up are Curse Curse and Laid, perfectly matched together. Whilst Curse Curse gets a fantastic reception in its own right, the sea of arms stretching way back into the venue, it’s Laid that sends the place completely bonkers. It’s like watching a reverse Poznan as everyone in the building bounces and bounces, singing along to every word.
She’s A Star gets the difficult job of following that, but it’s a song that’s struck deep into the psyche of the audience here. All Good Boys, a Millionaires b-side that didn’t even make the Ultra b-sides album, is next and works beautifully. The Portuguese audience, unlike a majority of their UK counterparts, stand and listen to a song few of them probably know.
Just Like Fred Astaire sees Tim make his way down to the barrier and then start walking on the shoulders of the crowd, all without dropping a word. It’s made a welcome resurrection in the set on this tour – its subject matter, a man falling in love, isn’t traditional James lyric territory, but it strikes a real chord here. At the end of the song Tim falls backwards and is carried on a sea of arms back to the front. Tim jokes about the reaction he got going into the crowd in Glasgow and the contrast to how well the audience looked after him.
They then divert to Greenpeace, which builds to a wall of noise and light as it reaches its conclusion as Tim’s two-mic approach tells two sides of the story of environmental ruin. It contrasts with PS, a gorgeous ballad musically that finishes in a delicious Saul violin solo that stuns the crowd.
The whole place goes wild again for Getting Away With It (All Messed Up), a song that seems to have particular resonance in continental Europe as it never fails to get a euphoric reaction. It’s probably coming to its time to take a rotation out of the set, but you absolutely cannot deny the power it has to get an audience going. Tim doesn’t need to sing the first verse because it’s sung to him whether he likes it or not.
Moving On is the one of the new songs that has made the most impact due to its subject matter and its video and we were told earlier that it’s the song that Portuguese radio picked up on of all the singles so far. The venue becomes a sea of arms as far back as you can see. Gone Baby Gone sees dancers invited up from the crowd on to the stage as has become tradition and its stop-start staccato vibe has everyone dancing as Tim prowls the stage looking for people to dance with.
Sound is next and has a twist. As it reaches the breakdown session, thirty drummers in traditional costume march on stage playing the same beat. November 29th is the start of a two week celebration in Guimaraes which starts with an all-night party to which the soundtrack is the Nicolinos (as the drummers are called) and this beat. Somehow, despite about ten minutes soundcheck, it works beautifully, James improvising around the beat. As the song reaches its conclusion, five thousand people holler the “mah bah ooh” refrain back at the band, before they allow the drummers their own minute or so in the spotlight, paying respect to local tradition that the crowd react ecstatically to. The sound on stage is matched by that of stamping feet, both on the arena floor and in the raised seating.
Come Home finishes the main set and almost feels like the interloper at the party with what’s gone before it, partly as it doesn’t occupy the same heady place in the James canon of songs here than it does back, but mainly because there’s just been one of the moments you get at some James gigs that you can’t follow.
Andy appears on the balcony at the top of the seats for the start of Born Of Frustration and Tim sings most of it in the seats on the opposite side as the Portuguese crowd ape his Indian cry. Interrogation is bold and powerful, exploding at the point the verdict of the song is delivered. This type of song (see also I Wanna Go Home and Of Monsters And Heroes And Men) characterize the reunion of James more than most in that they give the band space and room to take them off at tangents whilst retaining control.
Stutter sees another set of drummers on stage, this time less traditional and more fluid in their approach. The crowd look on with a slight sense of bemusement at the carnage that unfolds on stage. It’s a song that’s been there since the start of James and Tim explains the story about how it’s when his tongue took control of a situation when he was pursuing a girl at University and when she finally succumbed he talked his way out of it. It’s a song that has grown with the band as they’ve developed and one that has always found its way back into their sets. Tonight it’s a rampant sprawling beast, backed up by a light show that almost blinds you but which changes in time with the music (no mean feat given the pace of the song), the additional drummers adding to both the aural and visual chaos. Larry adds a new rougher intro to the song as Tim stands inches away from him, encouraging him to take it to new places and then later he does the same with Jim.
They decide to forego the second encore ritual and play Out To Get You. Again, they’re almost drowned out by the sound of the audience clapping along, although they do shut up when Saul’s jaw-dropping violin solo takes charge as Tim retreats to the drum riser to let the rest of them take centre stage.
Sometimes is the inevitable yet completely appropriate conclusion to the evening’s events. It’s the song most synonymous with James here. The crowd sing along then as it reaches its conclusion, they take up the refrain and then Saul kicks in with a fierce guitar as the others move to bid their farewells sending them back for an improvised outro, again very different to other nights, before finally bringing things to an end, with the audience streaming out afterwards still singing along.
There’s a very special connection between James and Portugal, one that’s very hard to pinpoint. But they are both incredibly passionate people, seen as the underdog but possessing a natural talent and love of life that they harness for them to live their life the way they choose rather than the way others would want to dictate to them, and when you look at it that way, it feels like the most natural bond you could imagine.
The James La Petite Mort tour rolled into London last night with the first of two sold-out shows, the first at the Royal Albert Hall before a date at Brixton Academy on Friday.
As is tradition in the bigger venues, the set opens with a walk-through the crowd by Tim, Larry and Andy for Lose Control and tonight they’re joined by Jim as they enter the back of the stalls. Tim stops to dance with a man on the stairs, avoiding tripping as he did last time. They finish the song on stage and already the anticipation is at fever-pitch as they kick into Oh My Heart. In the soundcheck, Saul had said that compared to La Petite Mort, Hey Ma, from which this and later I Wanna Go Home come from, is the sound of the band finding their feet again. It’s no such thing – whilst the production makes La Petite Mort a more rounded album, those two songs tonight cement the feeling that they’re not just a more powerful live band than ever before, it also applies to their studio work too.
The cheers that greet the opening bars of Walk Like You set the precedent for the evening as well. Too often James London crowds appear to be there for the hits and the hits alone, but tonight, as an Australian gentlemen handed the mic later puts it, you’re not just watching James, you’re watching a choir. With the freedom to improvise in the later stages of the song, this one is different every night. The powerful beefed-up take on Seven is almost submerged by what goes on around it in the set tonight, but as Andy’s trumpet pierces the red-hot atmosphere of the hall and climbs the walls.
Curse Curse has the arena bouncing so hard you feel for the creaky floor as everyone hollers the chorus, a song that’s won the hearts of James fans with its tale of jealousy of what’s going on next door, that line “sounds from next door, someone’s getting laid” a nod to what comes next, its crazy twenty year old brother-in-arms which sees Tim invite dancers up on to the stage, breaking down whatever is left of the walls between band and audience. The crowd have sung the first verse and chorus at the band before Tim even breaks into song.
Tim commands “Let’s shake up the Albert Hall” as if that hasn’t already happened as the band kick into Jam J. Strobes kick in, spotlights fly around the hall, up the walls, through the boxes and it stutters and jerks to its rampant conclusion. Please release the other twenty-five jams now please.
The mood is taken down, without losing the crowd, with two slower songs. I Wanna Go Home and Out To Get You are no mid-set excuses to nip to the loo though. Both of them generate a mix of mouthing along to the words or standing in awe taking in what’s going on up on the stage. Both showcase Saul’s outstanding violin playing, the former the amazing strength of Tim’s voice to hold a note for longer than us mere mortals could imagine. Like the rest of us, Tim is slightly awe-struck by what’s going on around him, taking a seat on the drum riser to take in the improvised outro to Out To Get You.
What’s The World gets its first airing of the tour, described by Tim as the first song they ever wrote together. Like Hymn From A Village, it still stands tall and proud today thirty years on, its spindly almost cack-handed energy distilled into something more powerful but not less impactful with the addition of the extra musicians and the wisdom of age.
Vervaceous is introduced as a song that hasn’t been played for a few years and which could be “incredibly beautiful or a big belly-flop”. Thankfully it’s the former, the Hall being perfect for its swoops, descents and crescendos and the reverb on Tim’s vocoder treated vocals accompanied by stunning mood lighting which accentuates the impact of the changes of pace. It segues seamlessly into All Good Boys. This resurrected gem is absolutely perfect for tonight, the ending matching the theatrical splendour of the room it’s being played in, the delightful contrast between Tim and Saul’s vocals.
The impact of All I’m Saying is similar, the crowd being respectful when Tim explains the song’s meaning and that he needs help (silence) to get through it. I’d harbour a bet that there’s no one in the room that isn’t thinking of someone elsewhere when Tim proclaims “All I’m saying I’m missing you” such is the impact of his lyrics and how his personal tragedies are being exorcised in this communion of music and words.
The crowd’s patience and attention is rewarded with a series of hits and future hits to end the main set. Tim comes out into the crowd at the start of Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) and surfs his way back to the mixing desk, his long skirt getting hitched up as he does to thankfully reveal a pair of white long pants to protect his modesty, all of this with the biggest grin on his face and again not losing a word as he does so.
Moving On has all the poignancy of All I’m Saying earlier in the set. The floor raises its arms in unison as they hit the chorus, testament to how well the La Petite Mort songs have been received and the audience they’ve reached even if the chart positions don’t necessarily reflect that.
Tim invites more dancers up on stage for Gone Baby Gone, which they’re trying to persuade Cooking Vinyl to release as the fourth single off the album (my call would be a four-track Record Store Day 12” single to showcase some of the seeds of the album sessions that we’ve not heard yet). Whatever, it’s playful loose-limbed structure is perfect single material and the dancing isn’t solely restricted to the stage as the arena bobs up and down and most of the stalls seats are now up.
Come Home closes the main set. In the absence of that song, it’s the most recognisible one to UK audiences and the response it gets is the most rapturous of the evening. There’s lots of twenty five years since Madchester style dancing going on around us and everyone matches Tim word for word as the lights once again emphasise the impact of what’s going on stage. It’s a powerful way to end the set and testament to the band’s policy of resting songs that this one has come back revitalized and as fresh as the day it was conceived.
For the encore Andy appears in the stalls stage right as his trumpet calling card signals Born Of Frustration as the opener to the encore. Tim can be heard but not seen at this point until a single white light points up to the third tier of the hall where he’s made his way up into the Gods. This showmanship and taking the show to those with such limited view is a sign of their will to ensure everyone in the place walks away feeling like they’ve been part of the show. The floor don’t know where to look, up at Tim, up and Andy or the ferocious noise on stage as Saul and Larry attack the guitar lines with such intensity.
Somehow Tim makes his way back down quickly as an extended intro to Interrogation kicks in. Thankfully we get the full unabridged version tonight as it gives them the chance to improvise again, the song having that potential the band have squeezed out of Sound to be extended and fly off at tangents and feed off the power in the room. Larry’s guitar solo again deserves particular mention even though it’s a different approach to it to the one he’s taken on other dates on the tour.
They close the first encore with Sometimes, their ultimate song of communion, a word that’s hard to avoid talking about this tour and five thousand voices join together adding even more lift to that given to it by the on-stage backing vocals.
They leave the stage, but no one is going anywhere at this point so they come back and perform Top Of The World. Tim tells us that no one knows what they’ll play next in their crew, sound and lighting set up. As first Jim’s rumbling bass then Saul’s piercing haunting violin ripples over our heads and up the sides of the hall, it’s testimony to James’ ability not just to deliver the adrenalin fuelled hits that they’re best known for, but also their mastery of lower volumes, highly affecting songs like this one. The crowd shut up and listen, frozen silent by the sheer majesty and emotion of it. It’s not your usual gig closer, but then this is no ordinary band of course.
It’s nearly thirty years since James played the Royal Albert Hall supporting The Smiths and it took them twenty-five to get back there in 2010. They were back the following year with the Orchestra Of The Swan, but tonight is the night they really conquer it, making those huge walls of boxes feel as intimate as the tiniest venue in the world. Despite leaving out crowd-pleasers such as Sit Down, Ring The Bells, Sound, Tomorrow, How Was It For You?, Just Like Fred Astaire and Say Something, they still cram twelve singles into tonight’s set, whilst investigating most periods of those intervening thirty years.
After the arenas of the weekend, James crammed a couple of thousand Geordies into the Newcastle Academy for a long sold-out show and pulled off their best gig of the tour so far.
Walk Like You is the ideal opener for this tour, even ignoring its position at the start of La Petite Mort, because it puts down a marker for what’s to come. It makes a statement that the show is going to be about the new record, but how accessible and powerful that record is live. Like Bubbles off Hey Ma, it shows so many sides of James all wrapped up in one song. It ends in a fury of improvisation, different every night and tonight Andy and Saul take control with trumpet and violin. The roar at the end sets the scene for the evening.
Say Something is an inspired choice early on in the set, it works so much better at the start than it does towards the end where it can feel like an obvious choice. From front to back of the rammed Academy floor arms are raised aloft, singing in union as Tim perches perilously on the barrier.
Frozen Britain makes a welcome appearance in the set. The first released calling card for La Petite Mort, it’s fun and playful on the record, but live, with a looser arrangement and an extended outro, it’s a massive-hit-in-another-time romp. Newcastle loves it and you think the punchline “La petite mort pour toujours” is a statement of the longevity of this record. The response is no less powerful than Seven which follows it, testament to the fact that this record has made a serious connection with the wider fan base in a way they haven’t for a long time.
Curse Curse rams this point home. Again tied together with Laid, the comparison is inevitable and it’s a favourable one. The joyous abandon, mischievous wink and slightly out of character “pour me more tequila” matching that of “you’re driving me crazy when are you coming home” and the breakneck speed of the song make them feel like twins. You can feel the energy transferring from crowd to band and back to the crowd. Laid sees Larry going walkabout around the stage, Tim continually prowling around all evening looking for connections, interesting bits of improvisation to hook on to. Newcastle belts everything out at full volume and you suspect that there might be a few Geordies with sore throats and no voice this morning.
They then move seamlessly into the beautiful mournful spiteful PS and the crowd shut up and get it as the room is bathed in bright red light as the song moves to its conclusion with Larry’s signature slide guitar and a jaw-dropping violin solo from Saul to which you could hear a pin drop in the crowd. Similarly All Good Boys gets the respect it deserves as well. Having resurrected it on this tour you have to wonder how the hell some of the songs on Millionaires (and Ultra) got the nod over this. Saul’s verse vocals work perfectly in contrast to Tim’s in the context of the song and the end section where five voices come together feels like a genuine epiphany. They joke about it being a b-side and what constitutes a b-side, Saul commenting that it’s something you throw away.
There’s a bit more discussion when Tim suggests doing Interrogation instead of All I’m Saying which is on the setlist, but is quickly reminded by Saul and Larry that it’s the new single. You suspect Tim’s worried about the audience being quiet such is the response they’ve generated tonight, but if that’s the case then there was no need for concern as his request for silence whilst he sings is met with just that. Still an odd choice for a single, it’s a beautiful eulogy to a lost friend wrapped up in one of those classic James songs that start quiet and build into something more expansive.
Greenpeace is more suited to this size of venue than the arenas of the weekend as the light show fills the hall completely. It’s marred by Tim’s second microphone not working properly for parts of the song – it’s not the first time it’s happened on the tour and needs to be sorted out if it’s going to stay in the set, particularly when Stutter gets left out in its place.
Hymn From A Village is a blast from the past. It betrays its age, having matured like a fine wine, beefed itself up and expanded its girth in the thirty years since its conception. In the VIP soundcheck, a gentleman enquired as to whether James had considered going back and re-recording songs from their past with the current line-up and revisiting them. Hymn would be a prime candidate for that treatment.
And then there’s Born Of Frustration. Tim gets to the barrier, looks down at the crowd, has a think to himself and then projects himself forward onto a sea of arms. Rather than grab at him, they lift him and carry him back to the mixing desk, perform a turn manoeuvre on him and send him back on his way down the other side of the crowd, all without him missing a note, them dropping their pints and, unlike Glasgow, copping a feel and performing a colonoscopy.
The James anthem to their own ability to rescue victory from the jaws of defeat and disaster, Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) descends into on-stage chaos at the start and the crowd simply take over and sing the first verse and chorus much to the amazement of the band. They kick back in, but Tim’s pretty much drowned out by singing all the way through.
Tomorrow and Come Home turn things up another notch, there’s few people now not dancing, not singing along to every single word. These are songs that mean the world to people in these parts, as every bit important as that song that is not being played on this tour. The stunning light show simply adds to the impact as both songs career to their peaks.
They finish the main set with Gone Baby Gone. Tim invites some dancers on to stage and it’s thrilling to witness how a song that they had concerns about playing live has suddenly turned into an unexpected show-stopper and one that they’re happy to end the set with ahead of rather more obvious choices. The rigid structure of the recorded version has its chains cast aside and there’s space to improvise, for Andy to throw trumpet shapes across it wherever he pleases, Larry to add jagged guitar and for Jim’s threatening menacing bass to dictate the pace. Newcastle agrees with me wholeheartedly.
In a setlist full of right moves and perfect choices for the day, venue and crowd, Out To Get You opens up the encore and the sight and sound of grown men singing “what I need is you” arms outstretched to the stage en masse is something truly special and testament to the power and devotion that James can still generate. Larry’s guitar solo, followed by Saul’s violin solo, are so so beautiful, it’s impossible that they don’t melt your heart.
Moving On has spoken to so many people this year, its theme something that everyone can relate to, James fan or not, and like everything before it, it’d be impossible for someone who’s never heard James before to stand in this room and identify the new songs, such is the reaction they generate tonight. There’s people with their arms round each other singing every word like some sort of exorcism of the demons of loss – and it’s all wrapped up in probably their most radio-friendly song since the reunion.
Sometimes finishes off the set, mainly because you can’t really follow it tonight, and again it goes off in a different direction once you get past the middle eight. The crowd stop singing, the place becomes a cacophony of cheering and Tim simply tells the crowd that the band want to hear their version and steps back with the touchpaper firmly lit. 2,000 Geordies make as much noise as 8,000 Scousers and Glaswegians made at the weekend. The band come back in, improvising their way to a conclusion that’s different every night. They really should try to put something else at the end of the set, but have reached the same conclusion as the rest of us which is how could you create something this raw and powerful with any other song. James’ epitaph will be “sometimes when I look in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul” because that’s exactly what you get when you look James in the eye.
This was the best gig of the tour so far, the crowd the wildest when James played the hits, the most respectful of the quiet songs and of Tim when he went out into the crowd and they got the new songs and treated them like old favourites. Tim said they were the loudest on the last tour and they probably repeated the trick this time round.
Saturday night in Glasgow is no place for the faint-hearted and so James got (most of) their hits out for one of the biggest shows of the La Petite Mort tour.
The Hydro has garnered itself something of a bad reputation for sound since its opening last year, but there’s no real problems with the sound tonight where we’re stood is fine and the venue works in the sense that there’s a decent vantage point pretty much everywhere.
Tonight’s set is geared towards the Saturday night crowd. Whilst there’s still six songs from the new album and All Good Boys and Greenpeace retain their place, the rest of the set aims to generate a celebratory atmosphere rather than a listening crowd. This comes to a crux when Tim stops All I’m Saying because, despite requesting a few minutes silence so he can sing this song that’s very difficult for him because of the subject, the crowd don’t and he can’t carry on over the noise. It’s a shame that the crowd couldn’t respect that wish, but then it’s difficult to shut up eight thousand people for a few minutes when a large chunk of them have been on the lash all day.
The tone of the show is set by the opening Lose Control when Tim, Larry and Andy walk through the crowd. The venue layout doesn’t really lend itself to this working as the only seats that can access the route to the stage are not raised very high so most of the floor can’t see what’s going on. But they just take the song and make it their own almost drowning Tim out in the process. Seven has a sea of arms raised in unison and Walk Like You, with its many different sections and improvised outro keeps the atmosphere at fever pitch. All Good Boys surprisingly works in this environment, it feels made for these bigger stages, particularly as it builds to the five-voice crescendo at the end. It feels and sounds like a lost classic.
Sound has Tim musing on the fact that there’s something beautiful about men singing the “mah bah ooh” part of the song. Tonight it fills the hall, dark and rumbling, slightly menacing, lit up by stunning use of the backdrop and the big lighting rig. Curse Curse, which Tim later says he should have changed to “Maloney shoots and scores” in the presence of friend and Scotland manager Gordon Strachan, really turns the heat up, people losing themselves in a heady mix of the electronic vibes of the song, ferocious lighting and a hazy fog of alcohol. Tim goes crowd-surfing half way through the song as well yet still manages to hold everything together as he sings lying chest-down on a sea of arms. Laid has Tim down on the barrier again and helping a crowd surfer up on to the stage to dance with him. The reaction of the audience tells you why many bands see Glasgow crowds as one of the best to play to. Hymn From A Village hammers that point home as well.
Then things turn slightly sour with the All I’m Saying incident. Thinking about how often Tim went down into the crowd tonight, far more than he normally would, suggests that the distance and height from the crowd meant he was having trouble getting the connection he wanted. They play Quicken The Dead as an alternative and then it all gets forgotten as the venue is turned into a mass of waving arms as they go into Out To Get You, a song that’s been on quite a journey from its initial place on the Lose Control b-side to one of the band’s most loved songs and one that guarantees a fabulous reception whenever they play it. Getting Away With It, with Tim humming the intro section, has the whole place bouncing again and everything is forgotten.
Greenpeace looks and sounds stunning, but as Saul alluded to in the soundcheck, it does feel like it gets slightly lost in these big arenas. It’s not a song an audience can do a lot with given the contrast in pace and volume of the various sections except stand and stare at its sheer power. Stutter is a very different beast as it rumbles its way to its manic conclusion, bulldozing everything in its way.
Just Like Fred Astaire is simply jaw-droppingly beautiful, the song, more than any other, they’ve absolutely captured the essence of on this tour. Gorgeous swooping keyboard, vocals that enhance the expression of love apparent in the words. Moving On gets the warmest reception of all the new songs tonight, the sentiment touches most of the people in the room in some way and there must be a cathartic effect of thousands of people singing back to you something incredibly personal. Gone Baby Gone, once again, is the highlight of the new songs though and Tim helps another dancer up on stage for this one.
Come Home and Tomorrow finish the main set and see Tim back down in the crowd surfing, although some people get a bit too close and personal prompting him to ask if “the person who stole my penis can give it back”, a change from when someone stole his shoe at the Barrowlands in 1990. Come Home gets stretched out as Tim can’t sing because of the attention he’s getting so it loses its way a little as they scrabble to keep the song going, but they manage to rescue it.
Born Of Frustration sees them all stay on stage tonight and allows us to focus on the sheer power of the song without being distracted by people in different corners of the arena. It’s a song that drifts in and out of the setlist, but really was the calling card for the Seven album, especially when the crowd can participate in the hollering Indian call of the intro of the song.
They finish with Sometimes which almost descends into farce, they play the song with an interesting opening where Tim sings the first line without the band having started the song, the audience stops, are called back into action by Tim stomping his feet, prompting a sing-along section, but before the band can come back in the crowd stop singing and it doesn’t get carried into the mass celebratory communion it’s been on other nights. It’s one of the great things about having Sometimes at the end of the set, although the structure of it might be well-known to people, it’s never the same because of the crowd and how they take it.
All in all, a gig very much geared to the audience and the night of the week, but still enough in there that goes beyond what the casual fan of the band might know and expect from them. With concerns about the venue and Tim’s voice, which sounded in fine fettle despite issues with his throat over the past few days, it was the right set for the evening and the place, but hopefully we’ll see some changes this week.
Lose Control / Seven / Walk Like You / All Good Boys / Sound / Curse Curse / Laid / Hymn From A Village / All I’m Saying / Five-O / Quicken The Dead / She’s A Star / Greenpeace / Stutter / Just Like Fred Astaire / Moving On / Gone Baby Gone / Come Home / Born Of Frustration / Interrogation / Sometimes
Starsailor
As James’ La Petite Mort tour reaches its first weekend, the size of venues grows as they enter arena territory starting at Liverpool’s Echo Arena. We watched them walk the tightrope between crowd pleasing hits and their desire to challenge their audience with curveballs and unusual song choices.
The Echo Arena is one of those cavernous, potentially soulless places so often frowned upon by music fans when their favourite band gets to the point where they have to play to audiences of this size. What transforms it though into something more intimate where there’s a connection between band and audience that so few can manage. What doesn’t help is the proliferation of people who you have to wonder why they forked out £40 to get off their tits on poppers all night and stand with their back to the band. But that’s James lot in these arenas and there’s moments tonight where you could have been in the smallest toilet venue in the country, such is the intimacy that some of the songs generate, helped by one of the most impressive sound set-ups we’ve heard in a venue of this size and decent sight lines throughout.
They start amongst their fans with Larry, Andy and Tim appearing at the back of the arena for a walkthrough the Level 1 seats for an acoustic version of Lose Control. Whilst it’s one of their most recognisible songs, it also sets the audience on edge a little, takes away their expectations of a bombardment of greatest hits played straight like so many that will have trodden this floor. Rather than head for the stage, Tim heads for the barrier as Seven strikes up, a beautiful rough extended opening section due to the time it takes to get back through the crowd. Thousands of arms are raised skywards as they reach the punchline of “love can mean anything”.
Walk Like You is again one of the highlights, that out section allowing the band to take the song off in a different direction yet again, brimming with so many ideas, as many in one song as many bands can fit on an album. They take the typical Jamesian route at this point of throwing in All Good Boys as a curveball. The song itself fills the hall, the fraility in parts of the original replaced by a building sense of forcing itself into your face and letting you know it’s around and had it got the release treatment it deserved at the time, maybe more would have known it.
Sound, Curse Curse and Laid are rapturously received. It still feels a bit strange when they play Sound mid-set because it naturally restricts some of their improvisational tendencies as it isn’t stretched to twelve minutes, but, having been out of the set for a while, they’ve worked on the arrangements and reinvigorated it. Curse Curse is an absolute blast and has the whole place dancing, singing and generally losing themselves in the fun and abandon of the song. This continues into its older brother Laid, the opening bars of Saul’s acoustic sending the whole place into delirium and Larry prowls the stage. Although less familiar to the now heaving mass, Hymn From A Village bears its fists and gets feisty, the scrappy upstart of its youth being replaced by something more likely to bulldoze your front door down and make itself at home.
They slow things down with a trio of All I’m Saying, Five-O and Quicken The Dead and the wide expanse of the venue doesn’t mean that the feeling and meaning of these songs are lost as Saul’s violin pierces the expectant atmosphere during Five-O as he, Jim and Larry congregate in a huddle and Tim laments the loss of his mentor and friend Gabrielle on All I’m Saying. The crowd’s reaction is, as you’d expect, mixed. The majority want to listen and take in this more poignant, beautiful side of James’ work, but there’s a few, that find themselves ridiculous, who want the big songs and nothing else.
She’s A Star serves to bring those dissenters back in line, before James take a step to the left field and unleash a quarter of an hour of white noise onto their unsuspecting audience. Greenpeace is nailed, that wild contrast between the two parts of the song and its final descent into chaos, illuminated by another wild light show. The crowd are a bit bemused around us, not sure what to make of it, not aware of this side of their work which blossomed around the Whiplash album. It goes beyond connection at an emotional level with this song, it’s a brutal violent assault on the senses. And then they follow it up with the killer blow which is Stutter. There’s probably not a song in the annals of music with a history like this one, thirty years old, never committed to a commercial release in studio form, but a song that can never die.
We then enter the home strait with a beautiful rendition of Just Like Fred Astaire, one of those James songs that was born at the wrong time for them commercially. It’s both unequivocally James, but also not like any other song they’ve done. The reaction Moving On gets is testament to how well La Petite Mort has been received, and Gone Baby Gone presses home the question of how has it not been chosen as a single so far. It’s not as polished live as the studio version, but it has all those traits of a James classic, punchy, sing-along and ripe for improvisation. They finish with Come Home and the whole place, including the now much worse for wear popper poppers, are joined as one.
The encore starts with Born Of Frustration, Andy appearing on the balcony playing trumpet next to a girl who looks around in vain for him before finally releasing with shock that he’s actually stood next to her. Tim appears the other side. These moments bring those people up in the gods into the show by taking it to them, but you don’t know where to look as Tim makes his way through the rows, Andy dances with random people and the rest of the band take the song and deliver new twists on it. Interrogation is a brave encore choice given the songs that have preceded it, but it’s a song that challenges its audience head-on, particular in the breakdown, where Larry improvises yet another different take on it.
Sometimes brings things to their inevitable conclusion. Tim goes out crowdsurfing into the standing area until he runs out of arms and is forced to turn back. It finishes with a chaotic singalong, in parts accapella, Tim’s reaction half-open mouthed in awe, half dancing. Larry tries some ill-advised vocal improvisation of “Liverpool’s soul” that no one else picks up on. They want to stay on and play another song, but are greeted by a chorus of boos when Tim tells us that they can’t because of the curfew, a rather flat way to end the evening and a bit harsh on the band to boo them.
These gigs are a bit of a conundrum for James, a balance between pleasing the masses that just want certain songs they heard on the radio against their natural will to play whatever takes their fancy and which another element of their fanbase would love to hear. They walk a fine line tonight, but on balance manage the rather clever trick of pleasing everyone, including the busker outside who unwittingly leads the exiting mass in a rendition of that song and filling his hat in the process.
None.
Cambridge Corn Exchange is the setting for the first sold-out night of James’ La Petite Mort tour. Armed with a full sound and lighting set up, a new album that stands up to anything they’ve done before, they once again demonstrated why they’re the most formidable live act in the land.
After a well-received opening set by Starsailor, James came on fashionably late to Tim declaring “let’s have some fun” to the sold-out Corn Exchange. In typical James fashion, there are seven changes to the set from the night before, impressive considering there’s six songs from the new album in common with the previous night and the order is mixed up too as they strive to find the right balance and perfect set pace so they can tear it up again.
First up is Oh My Heart, a welcome return of the Hey Ma album to the set for the first time in this series of dates, Tim, as is his wont, twists the lyrics round, evolving the song as he does so, even more impressive given his in-ear pack gives out half way through the song. A quick battery change later and they dive into La Petite Mort opener Walk Like You which again descends into an improvised frenzy as it reaches its conclusion, trumpets and violin everywhere. It’s the album’s brash, bold strident calling card.
She’s A Star makes a return to the set and this time it’s given a boost with extra keyboards by Ron Yeadon. It’s a song that survives in the set down to its popularity with the crowd and also their ability to twist it and reinvigorate what is, when you take it back to its genesis, one of their most straight-forward pop songs. Quicken The Dead was a song that I hadn’t been completely convinced about live to now, but in this hall with a sound set up capable of highlights the nuances in the melody and the vocals it grows into something exquisitely beautiful.
Seven has grown a new heavy intro to the point most people don’t recognise it until Tim’s vocals kick in and Andy’s trumpet call floats across the hall. Curse Curse and Laid, two songs which showcase the playful side of Tim’s lyrics and which have a propensity to get people dancing, are cleverly put together, firstly because of the reaction they get and second it creates a comparison between the two, which Tim alludes (and I’m paraphrasing here) to later when he talks about Sit Down having got to number 98 (77) the first time round even though they knew it was a hit, but the walls of radio and press were up and weren’t letting James in and that they know these new songs like Curse Curse are hits in the same way Laid was, but those walls have gone back up.
PS is simply beautiful, the band lit in a fiery shade of red as Saul takes the limelight perched on his riser towards the back with a jaw-dropping violin solo that even has his bandmates turning round and watching awe-struck. The audience is incredibly respectful, almost listening in silence, apart from a few mouthing the words at the opening to All I’m Saying after Tim explains its significance, breaking into clapping as the song builds. What appeared originally as an unusual single choice actually makes perfect sense as it’s one of those songs that builds in intensity before dropping down to its punchline.
Say Something sort of sits at the centre of the set between the two introspective songs that precede it and the journey into the darker less familiar roads of James’ canon. It’s one of the songs that can sometimes become a little predictable, but Larry’s guitar work in the breakdown gives it a new interesting angle.
All Good Boys has become quite a revelation. Where it was slightly scrappy at Saturday’s warm-up, they’ve completely nailed it with Saul’s opening acoustic and the vocal interplay between him and Tim early in the song and the communal coming together of five voices at the end. Greenpeace sees no technical issues tonight and therefore the contrast between the indifferent onlooker and the evil industrialist of Tim’s two microphone set up and the subdued instrumentation of the verse and the chaotic maelstrom when the guitars and everything else kick in against a backdrop of strobes and other lighting effects is something uniquely James.
And then there’s Stutter. One of the band’s oldest songs, written after listening to too much Nick Cave and Birthday Party at an early age and Tim’s suggestion for a goth wedding, is just simply staggering. To call it a song is actually doing it a dis-service, it’s an assault on the aural senses. Every time they play it they do something different with it and it’s not surprising they’ve never committed it to record as how could you ever come up with a definitive version of something so feral and uncompromising.
Into the home straight and Just Like Fred Astaire confirms that James aren’t just all about improvised noise and that they can show their softer side and contain their improvisational instincts. It’s a song that needs to be played relatively straight (or acoustic) and from the ascending keyboard intro to the multi-voice refrain about waters rising that’s what they do. With different subject matter, Moving On is similar in that respect. It’s reassuring to turn around and see so many people singing along and dancing and that La Petite Mort shows no sign of diminishing that ability to connect with an audience that James have perfected over the years.
Gone Baby Gone is a revelation. The one song off the album that hadn’t been played live before the tour, you now have to wonder how it’s not been chosen as one of the four focus tracks (aka singles) so far. The rigid polished production of the album version is sanded down and it resembles a loose fragmented jam, always on the edge of breakdown, but which thrives on that threat of dissolution. They finish the main set with Come Home, as spindly and edgy as it’s ever been. Like many of those singing along to every word, connecting with the sentiments of the song, it has every intent of growing old disgracefully, a little all over the place but ever more loveable for it.
The encore opens with Interrogation, the real show-stopper of the new songs, full of self-analysis set to a tune that echoes the menace in Tim’s vocals and boasting a breakdown which allows Larry to jam a jagged raw guitar line that draws Tim to him. Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) is sung so loud that at one point in the first verse Tim lets the audience sing a line. It’s a very symbolic song for James, combining their uncanny ability to write a classic pop song whilst still allowing the seven of them room to breathe and take over as they see fit and a lyric that could be the band’s epitaph.
Lastly we get Sometimes. It feels like the band have been trying to extricate this from the end of the set recently, but that’s virtually impossible when it gets this reaction. Tim comes to the barrier and sensing that he’s not going to get ripped apart crowd-surfs to the back of the hall on a sea of raised hands whilst managing not to miss a note. By the time he’s made it back, the crowd have taken the song on, accompanied only by a whispered bass drum kick and Tim loses himself in dance as the band gradually come back in to what’s almost a free-form jam around the song’s basic structure.
Worth noting is also that the light show is nothing short of spectacular and gets combined on some songs with video graphics on the white sections of the backdrop. As Stutter rampages to its savage conclusion with four sets of drums and Tim on keyboards, the building is lit in white, yellow and purple flashes. At other times, circular lights are used to imperious effect, flashing, rotating in red and blue light and huge banks of bulbs bathe the band in colourful shades. James have always been a band renowned for stunning lighting, often improvised as the music, and even by those standards this was something special.
This show was rescheduled from 10th July when it was originally planned as a warm-up for the Castlefield Bowl headline slot. It then became the opening night of the La Petite Mort tour. Support came from up-and-coming Stockport act Blossoms.
(Even The Stars)
James opened their La Petite Mort tour with a sold out show at Oxford’s O2 Academy – an intimate venue compared to some of the arenas on the tour, but they still thrilled with songs from their latest album as well as a mix of greatest hits and a few rarities plucked from their enormous catalogue of songs. This Oxford date has been tagged onto the front of the tour as it was initially a warm-up for July’s Castlefield show that got cancelled because of Tim having a throat infection. As a result, it’s by far the smallest venue on the tour and that applies to the stage. As a result Saul is moved to the back to the stage to accommodate everyone whilst allowing Tim to dance and this becomes a running joke throughout the set, Tim quipping that he’s heading for the exit and hoping it’s not a sign at one point. They open with two songs from La Petite Mort – Walk Like You and Quicken The Dead – and what’s immediate, as it has been throughout the series of summer dates, is that these songs don’t need to make excuses for themselves of being new to justify their place in their set. There’s few songs like Walk Like You in James’ canon – you have to think Johnny Yen and Sound – that give them free reign to improvise so much without the song falling apart or sounding unnatural. It’s nine minutes long yet never feels like it outstays its welcome. Quicken The Dead is three minutes of beautiful triple-time quasi-waltz, not the most immediate live song on the record, but one that takes off its glasses, lets its hair down and turns into something quintessentially beautiful. It’s a theme that runs through the set that the new material never needs to shirk in the exalted company of its more successful and popular brethren. Interrogation, as Saul points out in the programme, is a song that makes your hairs stand up on the back of your neck, no more so when they go for the extended version of it as it appears on the record. Gone Baby Gone, once they get past a false start, has been turned into a joyful, playful romp-stomp with Tim swooping from the “love love love” to the “blah blah blah” middle eight section with the most wicked mischievous grin on his face. The two singles Curse Curse and Moving On have really captured the imagination of the James fan-base in the way that songs like Crazy and Look Away from the mini-albums and Whiteboy and Waterfall from Hey Ma, great songs that they are – never really did. We don’t even get the next single All I’m Saying, out next Monday, but then that’s just typical James isn’t it? For the die-hards, there’s three special moments where James delve into the darkest nooks and crannies of their back catalogue. Millionaires-era b-side All Good Boys is transformed spectacularly and ends in a crescendo of five voices in unison, the music dropped, singing “the river, the river runs through, from father to son to tender the bruise” Saul describes it as “fucking brilliant” and that it doesn’t matter that it’s a b-side. You do wonder what thought process made it one rather than some of the tracks off the second half of that album though. Vervaceous swoops, soars, drops and soars – it’s almost not a song rather a piece of music crafted from a jam, a piece of art rather than the more traditional song structures of their better known work. Greenpeace is marred by Tim’s second microphone not working, but it hardly matters as it turns into a cacophony of noise, flashing lights and menace. It’s not all about the new album and obscurities from the back catalogue though. Even though Tim tells a persistent heckler that this is the “No Sit Down tour because it needs a rest” there’s more than enough for those only acquainted with the Greatest Hits. Laid, set free in the first half of the set, is as rampantly daft and almost frivolous as ever, a whole bundle of fun as is Sometimes as Tim marvels at the crowd singing along with Andy. There’s no stopping the music to prompt the crowd, just everyone carried away in the emotion of the song. Tim exits the stage and walks on the bars and merch desk at the side of the venue for most of Come Home before swan-diving into the crowd as the band take the song off down improvised roads to its conclusion. Hymn From A Village sounds like a reborn song – the energy, taut chaos belying its thirty-two years. Out To Get You, with an elongated beautiful violin opening that has Tim holding back from starting the song to marvel at Saul’s work, does nothing to dampen the celebratory mood. Born Of Frustration threatens to blow the building apart such is its ferociousness whilst we’re sent home floating on the sea of love and joy that is Just Like Fred Astaire. What comes across more than anything tonight is just how well the band are connecting on stage, a telepathic feeling of understanding that allows them to bounce off each other, feed each other and it drives them off to squeeze new leases of life out of songs they’ve played hundreds of times before as well as reinvent songs they’ve just written. And this is just the start of the tour.
James warmed up for their two-week UK tour with an intimate 600 capacity show at Stirling Albert Halls with a set mixing classic hits, tracks from their new album La Petite Mort and a number of older tracks resurrected from their vast back catalogue.
These types of James gigs are always a bit of a curate’s egg. The start of a tour is when they try out all the songs they’ve been working on in rehearsals, some of which end up in the set throughout the tour, some never to be heard again, but you’re always guaranteed to hear songs you never thought you’d hear again, or in some cases, you’re actually hearing them live for the first time as they were never played at time of release.
Tonight’s set follows that trend. There’s something for everyone in the set, even though that means there isn’t the traditional build through the set you expect from a James gig, the more fragmented nature of the setlist doesn’t detract from the experience. As the music drops and five of them sing the refrain to Millionaires-era b-side All Good Boys, you know this is something that most bands would never dream of doing. Greenpeace, from 1997’s Whiplash, is also brought back to life and even some issues with Tim’s second microphone can’t spoil the impact of a song that’s always been downright weird, stop-start, up-down, but which with a more comprehensive light set-up in an arena will be a show-stopper. Millionaires closer Vervaceous is also resurrected, complete with distortion on Tim’s voice and it swoops and soars. Whether pairing these two together mid-set in bigger venues than this work remains to be seen, but it doesn’t particularly dampen the celebratory atmosphere tonight.
It’s not just about revisiting rarities of course though. In La Petite Mort, James have produced one of the strongest bodies of work to date and tonight they play seven songs from it, proving beyond doubt that the songs are fit to stand alongside anything they’ve ever done previously. With Frozen Britain and Bitter Virtue not being played tonight but having been fairly regular in the sets over the summer, we could be pretty close to hearing the whole album across this tour. Gone Baby Gone gets played for the first time ever live and works brilliantly, it’s a fun song and the version we hear is playful with multiple vocalists and piercing shrieks of trumpet. What’s also noticeable against previous post-reformation tracks is the amount of people who know every word of the “focus tracks” Moving On, Curse Curse and All I’m Saying, testament to the fact that James are finally getting some breaks from radio. Walk Like You is the highlight of them all though, a song that allows them to let go, improvise and take the song down different roads to the recorded version in ways only James can.
There is also a smattering of the bigger hits, opening with Say Something and Seven, Laid being pulled early into the set, but no less rapturously received and a welcome return of Just Like Fred Astaire into the set which sees Tim mounting the speaker stack considering whether to climb up onto the balcony. Come Home has the whole place dancing and singing, twenty five years on from it having the same effect at the university up the road. The encore has a sadly curtailed version of Interrogation due to over-running and they finish with a wild Born Of Frustration.
The sound mix was intriguing too. Andy’s trumpet is turned up in the mix and his involvement in the songs feels much greater, particularly in the new songs and more obviously in Greenpeace and Vervaceous where he adds to songs that he didn’t appear on the recorded versions. Vocals are also augmented on large parts of the set by Ron Yeadon, adding more lift to the choruses of songs like Curse Curse. One minor quibble is that the venue’s sound system couldn’t handle the volume and variety of sound at parts so there was a bit of distortion and buzzing ears at the end of the night.
These warm-up gigs are always a unique experience, a pointer as to what you might expect on the tour, the band rehearsing publicly, yet still they manage to create a celebratory atmosphere that has the audience wanting more and eagerly anticipating the bigger shows on the tour.
Competition winner set for Absolute Radio
Walk Like You / Moving On / Seven / Ring The Bells / PS / All I’m Saying / Sometimes / Dream Thrum / Interrogation / Come Home / Curse Curse / Top Of The World / Say Something
n/a
The final stop on James’ whistle-stop promotional tour of the UK was a hometown show at Manchester’s Hard Rock Cafe for Absolute Radio. Used to playing to 16,000 people just across the street at the Arena, this 300 capacity venue took them back to their early days of playing to small, enthusiastic and devoted crowds.
It’s a mixed crowd in the Hard Rock tonight from competition winners who’d tweeted, Facebooked, texted and would quite possibly have donated an organ to attend to a generally disinterested bunch of guestlist faces upstairs that Tim had to tell, in an inoffensive manner as possible to “fuck off outside if you want to talk” as they chattered about their new clothes and how many times they’d seen Radiohead and fought over dry mini burgers and jacket potato skins. Sadly we’d positioned ourselves on the balcony rail in front of the latter, but it didn’t ruin the show for us.
The set is a mix of tracks from the recent La Petite Mort album starting with the opening nine minute Walk Like You, which has already become a live fan favourite, showcasing James’ ability to merge multiple diverse musical ideas into the same song and it not sound horrifically disjointed. In a new twist, Saul and Larry join together like brothers in church huddled round a lyric sheet to sing backing on the middle section, a sign that they’re still trying to challenge themselves by making the song different each time they play it. Downstairs love it, upstairs bemoan the closing of the free bar and the fact that Darcy and Hermonia couldn’t make it tonight.
The sound is inevitably a little muddy as the Hard Rock sound system can’t cope with the multi-instrumental assault on it that James provide, but no one bats an eyelid as it’s rare to get this close and personal with a band of this size. There’s a few technical issues before and after Moving On – but when they get it started it’s a beautiful eulogy to Tim’s mum and others departed. The whole downstairs is singing along word for word and even take over at one point when Tim’s mic cuts out. Rather than stop the song, he looks on in wonder before it’s fixed for the chorus and makes a point of thanking the audience for singing along as it helps him through songs with difficult themes.
Seven and Ring The Bells follow and show another side of James. Songs that were built and have filled halls many times the size of this are squeezed into the room and are magically made intimate and fitting for the environment, although you feel that the ending of the latter could literally bring the building down as the bass makes the floor shudder.
It’d be easy, and many other lesser bands would take this route, to simply blast out a greatest hits sets with a nod to one or two more obvious tracks on the new record and everyone would go home happy, but that’s not their style. PS, a gorgeous melodic track laced with venomous lyrics, is probably wholly inappropriate for this type of event, yet James make it feel like just the right thing to play.
You’d probably say the same about All I’m Saying, except that it’s been chosen as the next single. It’s a song with deep personal meaning for Tim, being about the death of his mentor. He stops it before the first verse to admonish the crowd upstairs for talking and issues advice on what to do if they don’t want to listen and Larry later points out one miscreant and stares at him constantly till he shuts up. As it builds to its climax, it’s impossible to ignore the look on Tim’s face, this is a very public catharsis of something incredibly personal.
Sometimes has the whole place singing along even the chatterers at the back upstairs. It’s the big song of the evening, the crowd picking it back up and making them come back in. It’s magical when this happens spontaneously as it does tonight.
Typically awkward they switch back to Dream Thrum, a beautiful wisp of a song from the Laid album. It feels like they’ll being wilfully difficult refusing to bow to what’s expected at these types of events. Simply running through a greatest hits set isn’t for them, so in a way it’s actually exactly what we’d expect from them. Interrogation follows and is cut short. It’s a fabulous song with an incredible groove and a break down section that hits at the core of what makes James a special live band, but they curtail it tonight which is the one real disappointment of the evening other than the spring rolls not making it round to where we were stood.
They finish the main bit of the set with a bang. Come Home sounds nothing like a 25 year old song, it spits at you, it pokes you in the eyes and yet you can’t help but love its ramshackle rumbustious charm as Tim exorcises another set of demons in a communal celebration. Curse Curse, either by technological mishap or intent, loses the big disco intro tonight and is more guitar-driven than any point since its first airing last summer. Love or loathe the recorded version, live it gets the crowd going and again downstairs is singing along every single word.
We are then given a choice of Tomorrow or Top Of The World and the audience cheering is to determine which one gets played. Usually there’s a clear winner in such situations, but tonight there isn’t. Saul shapes to play Tomorrow, but they settle on Top Of The World and he concludes the song with a beautiful violin piece that just adds fuel to the argument that it’s an instrument he should pick up much more.
They nip out into the Printworks entrance for a photo shot before the noise draws them back for a set-closing Say Something. It’s a crowd-pleaser to send everyone home happy as the whole place sings along.
A few years ago, John Bramwell from I Am Kloot infamously stopped one of these gigs after four songs because of the wall of chatter from the non-fan guestlist, referring to the Printworks area as “Twatsville”. James didn’t need to do that tonight, but by sheer force of will and the ferocity of their performance in less than ideal circumstances they delighted the 200 or so who were there to listen to them and felt privileged to be there. The less said about the rest the better.