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An acoustic tour with Neil Young in 1992 put James in the mood to make their mellow, new studio album, “Laid.” But when the British supergroup hit the stage at Peabody’s DownUnder Thursday night, it was with the full force and volume of a thundering, electric rock band.
The six-piece group from Manchester, England, regularly plays arenas and stadiums in the United Kingdom and Europe. Armed Thursday with a semitruck full of sound and light equipment, they came close to blowing the doors off Peabody’s. The spectacular 90-minute performance had the look, sound and feel of a full-blown arena extravaganza, complete with dizzying light show and special sound effects.
The group plays a catchy blend of folk-tinged rock and pop that mixes the Gypsy flavor of the Grateful Dead, the bouncing melodies of the British Invasion, the boozy melancholy of the Doors and the anthemic ardor of U2.
The spark is lead singer Tim Booth, whose tussle of brown hair, sleepy eyes and gaunt face give the appearance of a Generation X Bob Dylan.
His singing and stage presence are something else. He has a baritone-to-falsetto vocal range and an opera singer’s flamboyant flair for delivery. He punctuates his with whooping, yodeling, even raps occasionally using a megaphone. He is also one of rock’s most energetic performers, with a patented series of whirling dance moves.
Booth whooped and whirled through a 15-song set comprised mostly of material from “Laid” and the band’s 1992 album, “Seven.” The songs from “Laid” were beefed up with electric instrumentation and arrangements that featured a louder, brawnier rhythm section.
It was a wonderfully diverse show, running the gamut from jazzy psychedelica (“Skindiving”) to hymnlike pop (“Ring the Bells”) to tribal techno-rock (“Low Low Low”) to sultry blues (“P.S”). Crowd favorites included the anthemic “Born of Frustration” and the bouncing, quirky “Laid.”
Booth’s supporting cast is a formidable one, with guitarist Larry Gott, drummer David Baynton-Power and violent-guitarist Saul Davies turning in particularly stunning backing work and solo performances.
Two years ago, a lucky crowd at Peabody’s got to see Pearl Jam make one of its last club appearances before becoming national stars. Those fans fortunate enough to see James Thursday will soon have a similar story to tell.
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It was a two-bands-in-one event that Manchester sextet James presented over the weekend in two sold-out nights at the Opera House.
James is a folk band. James is also a dance-pop band. And the way the group convincingly shifted between the two styles was tribute both to its skill at reinventing itself, and to the crack musicianship of its players.
The group has been around since the early ’80s, almost as long as fellow Mancunians New Order. But whereas New Order nailed down a moody, dance-rock sound early on, the James gang has constantly experimented, swelling from its original four members up to seven, more recently becoming an even six-pack.
They’ve dropped horns from the lineup and stripped down to acoustic basics for their superb new album, Laid, encouraged by timely advice from admirer Neil Young and producer Brian Eno.
The band has a new confidence and focus that was seen, heard and felt right off the top at the first show Saturday, as James confidently tore into “Out To Get You”.
Standing festival style in a line at the front of the stage, dimly lit by blue lights that barely revealed faces, this was a group determined to subvert individual stardom in favor of team strength, although each member shone in his own right.
Singer Tim Booth poured on the emotion, with a voice and tousle-haired stage presence that mixed the messianic intensity of pre-Zoo TV Bono with the vulnerability of ’60s hippie guru Donovan.
Drummer David Baynton Power and bassist Jim Glennie held down a tight rhythm section, with Baynton Power maintaining a tribal beat with brushs and sticks, driving out demons at the end of “Ring The Bells” and throughout the early anthem “Sit Down”.
Lead guitarist Larry Gott handled both six-and-12-string acoustics and a Stratocaster electric with equal assurance, adding chiming, stirring runs and fills to songs like “Sometimes”, “P.S.” and “Say Something”.
Guitarist/violinist Saul Davies (he’s particularly impressive on violin, especially for “Johnny Yen”) and keyboard player Mark Hunter completed the winning team.
The switch to dance-pop came five songs in with “Gold Mother”, complete with a colorful slide show, blinding lights (but still not on the band) and Booth singing through a bullhorn. It was a vision true to the band’s roots in the Ecstasy-fuelled “Madchester” club scene, and a sound that explained why Toronto club act Rail T.E.C. was chosen as the well-received opening act.
And for the James gang, it was just like business as usual, a switching of gears without skipping a beat. The debut of the experimental new “Honest John” late in the set, with its industrial beats and renewed bullhorn bleats, indicated James is ready and willing to pursue this direction more in the future, after it enjoys its current predominantly acoustic phase.
The band is apparently also enjoying this tour, judging by the choice of the rarely played early hit “Come Home” for the encore, which included another crowd-pleaser, “Frustration”.
If the term “folk rave” hasn’t been coined yet, it should be after seeing what James is up to.
No longer six characters in search of an author, this is a group that has found itself, and a distinctive, unified sound.
A remix of Skindiving included on a periodic compilation CD / magazine
Skindiving 1-3-4
| Release Name: | Volume 8 |
| Artist Name: | |
| Release Date: | 1st February 1994 |
| Format: | Compilation (non James) Album |
| Catalogue: | 8VCD8 |
A remix of Skindiving included on a periodic compilation CD / magazine
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This show was recorded by BBC Radio 1 and highlights broadcast and then released on a bootleg CD called Sounds And Moods. A slightly different selection of tracks was also aired on the Westwood One syndicate network in the US.
It’s been a bumpy ride for James, Manchester’s oddest success story, from cult obscurity ten years ago to their present position as an internationally respected band. Their eccentric stance and willingness to swim against the pop tide has made them many friends. As if to prove their new position as grown-up contenders, their new LP Laid was produced by in-demand producer Brian Eno, who has worked extensively with U2. It has received glowing reviews. But good reviews and commerciality don’t always go together. James are not as popular as they were a couple of years ago when Sit Down was gracing the Top Five and their fourth LP Gold Mother, was wooing the nation. The last time they played G-Mex their distinctive T-shirts could be seen on all the right people at all the right places. The gig was a sell-out. Saturday’s show was busy but not full.
Playing songs that spanned a decade – from oldie Johnny Yen to unreleased tracks off their forthcoming double LP – they were nevertheless on top form. Singer Tim Booth has the most passionate and perfect male voice to come out of the city, the crisp sound quality making sure it’s full depth could be heard. And he was glad to be back on home territory: “There’s so many good memories here,” he told the audience.
With the acoustic strum of recent single Sometimes and the stadium rock bombast of Born of Frustration – with ex-trumpet player Andy Diagram making a guest appearance – James showed they are an outstanding live band. The impressive light show and projections added to the sense of occasion. They may not sell as many of their cheeky Get Laid t-shirts as they have previous designs, but musically the band just get better.
So it’s back to G-Mex, the 12,000-capacity venue once treated as a regular local showcase by the long~one baggy powers that be. In the current climate, only cabaret bands like the Wets, Madness or Status Quo pack the place, the thought of Suede pulling it off is laughable, it’s in this context that James’ near-capacity gig has to be placed. The baggy generation has grown up and they are here to pay homage to some unlikely heroes.
The real strength of James’ astonishing pulling power (Fwooar! -Ed} is the way that they have always sat on the edge of fashion. Their whole trip has been long and lonely. More tolerated by the hip than truly dug, they have plied off-kilter pop for more than a decade, powered by the waifish charisma of Tim Booth; one part sixth-form guru, one part primary school headmaster and one part loose-limbed pop star with his own gentle yet determined charisma.
They hit the stage to the echo of one of the Brain Eno remix album tracks, all oddball rumblings and dark dangerous grooves, before crashing into “Sometimes” , the exquisite single off the recent “Laid” album. The song underlines the new James. Back in touch with their rural roots, this is a move away from the Simple Minded clod-hopping of recent years, that saw them almost disappear up flatulent veggie arses.
Eno, or someone, has twisted the songs with an almost doo-wop Fifties flavour, stripping them down to the requisite three minutes and encouraging Booth to let go in that high-pitched wail that is a curious mix between Frank Ifield and Klaus Naomi. It’s a great start, the years are peeled back as G-Mex becomes a seething mass once more.
The only drop in the set is the long acoustic middle section that follows the as-yet-unreleased “Honest Joe”, a bizarre stumble, but a monster song, that sees James come over like the Butthole Surfers, trading in lop-sided ruffian blues. The second Eno album from the “Laid” sessions sounds like a really interesting journey. Release it soon, please.
The acoustic stretch is a 20-minute communion between the band and their closest fans. The rest of us trawl the toilets, stare at the ceiling, talk about football and look for a better vantage point in the hall.
It’s 1993, and we have no time for such sensitivity , we want some noise and some stomping tunes! The encores are a triumph: “Lullaby” , a spooked song about child abuse – a bizarre and typically risky move in front of the hungry thousands – and then switch to “Sit Down” , the band now “getting in touch with their feminine side” decked out in cotton dresses, the puffs.
“Sit Down” still provides an opportunity to build on the band’s special rapport with its fans, the venue feels tiny, intimate and it’s at moments like this that James do seem to have something very special going for them. Triumphant shows like this can only bode well for their upcoming 1994 Stateside stadium tour supporting Duran Duran (ha!).
Born in a different age, their stance seems alien and yet somehow fiercely contemporary. Some people hate Tim Booth, hearing that I’ m reviewing they urge me to give him a good kicking, citing his smugness, but he seems as confused as the rest of us, skilfully articulating this in pop terms. James are now back to the land, stadium rock has been well and truly binned.
James have weathered many a career storm and come up laughing, redefining themselves in leaps and bounds but still keeping that initial spark alight.
They’re old hands at this big arena lark – and it shows in the attention to detail and meticulous presentation, the neat but never cloying feeling of intimacy and the willingness to throw the occassional curveball as a nod to their roots. Tim Booth feeds off the massive hometown crowd’s energy and proceeds to lose himself, to strip away layers of repression as if shedding skins. He might wrestle with the concept of religion, but he doesn’t take the standard option of playing Rock Messiah.
There’s no reason for James to play a role when they can drown you, bathe you and make you (almost) whole again with music.
And what startling music it is; working with Brian Eno has brought a sense of experimentation within tight structures and their sometimes mournful Mancunian melodies have come to the fore again. The overhauled old songs turned the crowd into a heaving, pulsating mass, and singalongs are conducted – although not by James prompting, that would be too showbizzy – where possible.
The six-piece, helped on occasion by Andy Diagram on trumpet and Martine McDonagh on vocals, turn “Johnny Yen” into a campfire tale, “Come Home” into a rousing plea and the final, truncated “Sit Down” into a modern morality tale. Conversely, the newer songs show why James survive and will continue to do so, by bridging the gap between performer and audience. There’s a closeness to the near-unplugged section of the show that should be lost in the arena and yet isn’t : “Out To Get You” mixes a touch of paranoia with acute loneliness; “Chain Mail” spews out a torrent of words; “Sound” is anything but bombastic, taken at a delightfully measured pace.
After this, electric energy returns, but, sadly, “Gold Mother” hasn’t aged well and provides a moment of weirdness even the two experimental ambient songs avoid. But then rescue comes swiftly to hand with a crushing “Born of Frustration” and a very evocative “Sometimes”, wherein a natural disaster – monsoon – is described as the music swells and epiphany is gained. And that’s James all over; triumph over adversity and a release after endless rain.