THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN: THE RIOT YEARS

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN: THE RIOT YEARS
Everybody loves a riot, and I am no exception. But real riots can be so unpredictable. It's all too easy to get a brick in the back of the head or a truncheon up the jacksy. One rioter once asked me if I could lend him a handkerchief with which to obscure his features, but the only I had had bogeys, so I was forced to pretend I hadn't got one. When I first started working in the Basque Country, Friday night was riot night. We would come out of work to be met by the huge hulking figures of riot police and would have to basically follow a line of them up to the railway station, which was being guarded to dissuade the disaffected youth from indulging in one of the favourite pastimes, setting fire to means of public transport. This is all very well, but it can (and did) go wrong, and the regular bouts of stone throwing were as unpredictable as forest fires. Good fun, I admit, but best to keep your distance if you value your freedom and/or physical integrity. So what better way to enjoy a riot than in the controlled environment of a small concert hall or nightclub? This was the brave social experiment carried out by followers of The Jesus and Mary Chain in the mid-eighties. Like May '68 without the slogans. The Jesus and Mary Chain made great records, records with cheese wire solos and dustbin lid drums. They were unavoidably exciting, and the experience of very loud feedback in a confined space could be quite agitating. Add to this the group's habit of playing for ten minutes or so before skulking off-stage and it is no real surprise tempers could be stretched to breaking point, if indeed this is what happened rather than just people "having a laugh" or whatever.

I went to see The Jesus and Mary Chain at Nottingham Rock City when the riot thing was still in the air. I was under-age and had borrowed my brother's provisional driver's licence. I had some kind of mental block at the door when the bouncer asked my date of birth and was ejected from the queue and put in some kind of holding pen, all my rock'n'roll dreams in the balance. I can't remember how I managed to convince my interlocutors that I really was over eighteen, but I did. Me in my cut-off donkey jacket. This was, after all, the time of the miners' strike (another false legend) or thereabouts and a cut-off donkey jacket seemed like a nice balance between a statement of solidarity and Duranee-baiting stylishness.

Once inside the venue (a fairly charmless place next to a car park, but by the far the most exciting place I had ever been) the long wait began. I think there were two support bands, but they were the kind that pay to get on the tour and everybody hates them. They must have got a fair bit of abuse that night. Someone's elder sister was working behind the bar (no doubt a glamorous student at Nottingham Poly), and gave my friends cheap drinks, but not me, because I had embarrassed myself in front of her in some drunken incident or other involving vinegar. I considered being mortified but... nah, no point. We waited. And waited. We had some chips. We waited, waited, waited. By now the venue was filling up and it was clear that quite a few people were there for a ruck - men with moustaches and white trainers, Terry-from-Brooksidealikes, Clough-era Notts Forest fans, definitely not people interested in The Jesus and Mary Chain and their clearly delineated scalpel slice through Warhol-fuelled selective rock'n'roll history. My clearest memory of the night is everyone, JAMC freaks and ruck boys alike, standing around trying to look tough when the DJ played Time Flies By When You're The Driver Of A Train by Half Man Half Biscuit at ear-bleeding volume. Try it some time, it's a pretty tricky pose to pull off.

Eventually the objects of our adulation shambled onto the stage. Obviously at the time I had a Bobby crush, so I was disappointed that Gillespie had either decided on a new sticky-uppy haircut or had been replaced. It later transpired (via the Hello Goodbye section of Mojo Magazine) that this gig was the début of John Moore. Bobby G was there, but backstage, giving his replacement moral support. Apparently he told him that all that was expected of him was to keep time, look good and dodge the bottles. Well, he didn't look good, and there were no bottles thrown. It was a disappointment, Bobby G not playing, and I find it hard to cling to the notion that this was some kind of historical event, a new drummer being baptised. I suppose in effect it was the beginning of a very slow end. The gig itself wasn't very good really, not after such a long wait. I think they were on for about half an hour, and I think they'd learned to defuse the latent violence by playing an excruciatingly long version of one of their more tuneless B-sides. Certainly the aforementioned Terrys from Brookside were hoping to start something by shoving and pushing and swearing and threatening, but the majority of punters were gentle souls more inclined to Pastelism than punishment, and nothing really happened. I'm glad I went, but to be honest, it wasn't much good. I loved the feedback, loved the melodies, loved the idea, but the vocals were almost inaudible, the shape and texture of the records was lost, and you couldn't help feeling that the band's obvious contempt for their audience was kind of deserved. That's not a nice feeling. So we all trooped out and some of us returned to the land of the tractor and the cow-pat, and went back to school next day with something to brag about and a legend to start building.

Years later I saw The Jesus and Mary Chain again in Prague. They were fantastic, but my abiding memory of that particular ghostly tube stop on the Revolution line from 1968 to 1989 was the wonderful sound of Big Star's Big Black Car hollowing its way from the PA in a cavernous venue as the audience trickled in. This time I was with people who'd taken real risks in the name of rock'n'roll, for which read freedom, people who'd run samizdat printing presses and so on, people who felt it was a really big deal to see The Jesus and Mary Chain. So I knew I was in the right place, and that I had been in the right place all along.

(I wanted to embed this, but I can't get it to work, but please click away.It is a video entitled The Jesus and Mary Chain North London Poly Riot)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hclcrEpui64

It's good to hear your voice, you know it's been so long

And it's hard to believe this song is 30 years old.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPq9tF1FbnA

(having trouble embedding it if someone can help me out?)

Maybe you should welcome the new soul vision

One of the first LPs my sister and I bought together (by the cliched but nonetheless effective methodology of saving up our pocket money) was Dexys Midnight Runners' debut album, Searching For the Young Soul Rebels (1980). Listening to it again, it's stood up very well; it's full of humour, intelligence and acute observations as well as the distinctive sounds of a kick ass horn section. Classic songs on the album include "Geno", still a great and curiously moving song; and the hyperarticulate "There There My Dear".

One song in particular, Thankfully Not Living in Yorkshire It Doesn't Apply, reminds me of dancing in the livingroom with a guy we called Randy Andy, a friend of my mum's in the category normally known as "freak", laughing with sheer joy because he was such a funky mover. The song contains the inimitable line "Lord have mercy on me, keep me away from Leeds". Which at the time, based on a complete absence of evidence, we deduced was about the Yorkshire Ripper.

Dexys went through some odd incarnations after this northern soul, teams-that-meet-in-caffs period: moving from serious, rather po-faced men in black clad in woollen hats to embrace the excesses of the day. Who can forget the risible dungarees circa "Come on Eileen" and the questionable hair? To the jaundiced eye, the age old problem: they seemed to have sold out as they got more popular. Their appearance on Top of the Pops for Jacky Wilson Said was notable for the pictures of darts player Jocky Wilson displayed in error by BBC props staff. Kevin Rowland went through several breakdowns and ended up heavily made up and wearing a dress on the cover of his solo album My Beauty. Not that there's anything wrong with this, of course; better a dress than dungarees.

Absolute Beginners (the Film)

I think this was the most expensive British musical ever, or something like that, and was a total flop on release. Well, I think it is time it got the digging it deserves. It is so highly stylised that anyone who doesn't fully surrender themselves to its logic will not enjoy it. Once you enter into the spirit of its studio-bound Soho, however, it is top entertainment. The music, despite the involvement of Gil Evans, is a bit trying, to put it mildly. But surely this is better than an attempt at "authenticity", especially when the plot deals so explicitly with falsehood and prioritising practicality over idealism. That is does this with the help of Slim Gaillard is surely a one-off worth celebrating. Sade is surprisingly good, both visually and vocally. The protagonist, Colin, mouthing along to Paul Weller is quite a jolt. The choreography is competent (to my ignorant eyes) and there are echoes of Fellini (explicit at one point), Ken Russell's Tommy film and Cliff vehicle The Young Ones. It is surprising to me that the likes of Patsy Kensit and Eddie Tenpole are not bigger stars than they are. Presumably Ray Davies's career was pretty slow at the time it was filmed, and his turn as a henpecked husband is gloriously understated. Surely this film would find more of a welcome in a world where the Pirates of the Carribean series is such a big earner. And where else are you going to find a film featuring a fight between rival groups shouting their allegiance to either "Mods!" or "Trads!" respectively. Not to mention the equally hens' teeth occurrence of the insult "chocolate drop" used in anger.

Four stars out of five.

PMQs

One unexpected advantage of the digital age is that I am now able to review Prime Minister's Questions every week. I can just press a button and my hard disk recording device will tape it for me, whether or not my attention is drawn to it by a lot of preceding fuss. This week was Nick Clegg's debut as Liberal head honcho. I thought he did OK, although I did not know who he was until he stood up. Never having watched PMQs in its entirety, I was surprised by how, erm, likable, or at least relatively entertaining, Big Dave Cameron is. At one point he answered a question from Big Gordon Brown, who insisted that he hadn't. This was a bit odd. Not side-splitting, just a it weird. The theatrical nature of the event helps, I think. After all, the proper debates are often unwatchable except by the hardy few. It was a few days ago, so I have forgotten most of it. I will have to either take notes or be a little more prompt next week.

PJM 2007

Here is the tracklisting for my end of the year roundup CD, with reasons for choosing them. No one has heard it yet, but still.

1. JOHN BARRY – THE WHISPERERS

I watched this film when it was on the telly.

2. IAN BROWN – ILLEGAL ATTACKS

I particularly like Sinead O'Connor's contribution to this record. It is also here as a tribute to me seeing Ian Brown having a fag outside his hotel in Reading.

3. STYLE COUNCIL – SHOUT TO THE TOP (INSTRUMENTAL)

Not sure why this is here. It's good though. Better with the words, mind.

4. R DEAN TAYLOR – THERE'S A GHOST IN MY HOUSE

Got this on a Motown compilation for a quid out of Fopp before it went into meltdown.

5. GRINDERMAN – NO PUSSY BLUES

Apart from everything else, what I really love is the guitar sound, which is one of those little guitars. I did some research and found out that they are called travel guitars.

6. DINOSAUR JR – ALMOST READY

This is just brilliant really.

7. EDWYN COLLINS – HOME AGAIN

I went to his comeback concert.

8. JONA LEWIE – STOP THE CAVALRY

From the Stiff Records box set, most of which is rubbish. It was cheap, but I would still like my money back. Roogalator.

9 and 10 ROKY ERICKSON – BERMUDA/THE INTERPRETER

Again, I went to a concert, in this case, Roky Erickson's British debut. It was good, but nowhere near as good as these two songs, which are from a 7 inch single originally.

11 and 12 THE MONKS – CUCKOO/I CAN'T GET OVER YOU

This is a 7 inch single too, now extra tracks on the CD of the album. Edith has spent the past few minths asking for "cucko music", so I am always delighted when I come across something that fits that description.

13. TONY CONRAD WITH FAUST – THE DEATH OF THE COMPOSER WAS IN 1962

I went to a Tony Conrad concert in which he droned on for bleeding ages. Here is a nice short drone from his session with Faust.

14. TELEVISION – BLANK GENERATION (LIVE)

From a Richard Hell compilation CD, which might be the album of the year if I could be bothered listening to it more often.

15. YOKO ONO/J SPACEMAN – WALKING ON THIN ICE

From an album in which "guests" do new music for Yoko Ono songs. They are all pretty good, but this one stands out for me as WALL OF PAIN of the year.

16. SUPER FURRY ANIMALS – WALK AWAY

Bought this especially for this end of the year roundup. Had never heard it before, but it is good. Reminds me of the Dion does Roy Wood and Wizzard extra track on Dion's Born To Be With You (?) CD reisssue. And it has been another year of Wales in my head.

17. ESG – ERASE YOU

From a "rarities" CD, which I think is better than the non rarities CD I got a few years ago. I suppose the word is "insistent".

18. GORDON JACKSON – THE JOURNEY

19. LAURIE JOHNSON – THE PROFESSIONALS

My idea of a joke. Still, they are both very good. I find Gordon Jackson a bit too much like hard work, as is true with most of the folkies that are being dusted off these days. I hope they are all growers. This track is the most "psychedelic" on a fairly plodding album.

20. JOHN LENNON – NOBODY TOLD ME

I like this song. It is from the soundtrack to the film "John Lennon vs the USA" which was on the telly at some point. All the tracks on the soundtrack are political in some way. Here we are concerned with "Nazis in the bathroom", which has inspired me to draw a little Hitler moustache on our Toilet Duck.

It has very much been a year of Nazis too, what with "Downfall" and "Winnie and Wolf" both dealing with the Fuhrer.

I am begining to warm to my task, but there are only two tracks left.

21. CANDIE PAYNE – ONE MORE CHANCE (INSTRUMENTAL)

This is a Mark Ronson production. It has been his year as well. I hate the little twat. I like Candie Payne though, for bringing back kitchen sink psychedelia, my favourite imaginary genre
.
22. WHITE NOISE – BLACK MASS: AN ELECTRIC STORM IN HELL

I hadn't actually heard this before putting it on here.

God Gave Rock and Roll To You

Here is a zip file of mp3s of my "best of" for 2007. It is a bit early, but who cares? At a later date I shall provide detailed sleevenotes and link to vaguely related videos, but in the meantime, here is the zip a de doodah:

http://www.gigasize.com/get.php?d=r1vo6xtk7tc

I hope it proves entertaining, perhaps on a long journey or at the launderette.

Radio Two Shitefest

I haven’t done this in a while, for various reasons too dull to mention. Anyhoo, I’m going to be a bit briefer than before, so that it seems easier to do. And also because my critical faculties don’t really extend beyond ‘this is shit’ and ‘this is transcendent’.

I’m only basing this on this week’s playlist on Radio Two, as I have failed to note down what got my attention recently. Finally, there’s a whole new section, now - not only is there Good and Bad, but also a section for the songs I am Unsure about! Woo.

nb, some of the videos are not proper videos, just those shoddy fan videos you get on Youtube.

GOOD

Richard Hawley – Serious – this reminds me of something I can’t identify. I don’t think it’s much of a song really, but it’s catchy enough. The video is amusing.

Kylie – Two Hearts – of course this is going to be great. Plucky Kylie etc etc.

UNSURE

Take That - Rule The World I quite like this, but my 16 year old self is recoiling in horror. To appease this I imagine that it’s being performed by Suede, and that helps a great deal. Besides the lyrics are kind of Prozac Brett Anderson anyway.

Seal – Amazing – I never knew that Seal’s real name was Seal Henry Olusegun Olumide Adeola Samuel until I looked on Wikipedia. Now I know. I’ve never been a fan, and this song hasn’t changed that but it’s a bit of an earworm, I’ll give it that much. If it was by Unkle Jam I'd probably give it an easier time.

Mika - Happy Ending – it utterly pains me to say this, but this would make a passable Scissors Sisters b-side, and is therefore classifiable as ‘not absolutely fucking mind numbingly dreadful’, therefore elevating it many levels above Mika’s previous effluvia.

The Hoosiers - Goodbye Mr A I want to hate this, I hated the previous single, and feel this is very similar, but it’s somehow not as awful. I would make the ELO comparison but it’s been done to death.

Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love – I’ve only heard this once, and a perverse 5% of me wants to like it. It’s how I imagine power ballads were like in early 1990s South America. Although thinking about it I’m not sure why this would be a good thing.

BAD

Amy MacDonald - L.A. – Her previous single was dire, yet this surpasses it in the shite stakes. I can’t quite express the baffled rage I feel in regard to this song, and indeed to her. I honestly cannot believe that anyone would think her voice is at all pleasant – it’s almost comedically low, and ‘oirish’ to the point of being distorted. I saw her do it live on some TV show, and she dropped her voice at least an octave, and it was fucking bizarre. And wrong. Perhaps she is an elaborate joke. I hope so.

Orson – Ain’t No Party – Tedious, just tedious. The singer’s voice is retarded, they’re clearly gay for Toploader, and have written this song expressly with the intention of it getting using in adverts and the other inbetween bits of telly. If I’m ever at one of their parties I’m going to kill myself. After I've dispatched with them and their moronic mates that is.

Ben’s Brother – Carry On - My antipathy to this lot is already known, and nothing has changed with this song, it basically the same song as last time, so I won’t repeat myself. Basically, they really shouldn’t ‘carry on’.