Following the breakthrough success of the band's previous outing, James released Seven, a record that married the ambitious scope of the lyrics with a grand, anthemic feel. Horns give songs like the lead off "Born of Frustration" and the surging "Sound" a certain majestic grandeur, sweeping without being overblown. Lead singer Tim Booth is in fine form, lending passion to the proceedings, yet maintaining intimacy. They don't totally abandon the more jangly, folk elements of past albums; it's still noticeably there on tracks like the lovely "Don't Wait That Long" and the shimmering, sardonic "Next Lover." Other highlights include the dramatic "Ring the Bells" and the resolute title track, which is propelled by Andy Diagram's trumpet, Booth's assured vocals, and a thumping rhythm. Seven might not be completely embraced by older fans, but it's a confident, artistic step and a fine entry in the band's catalog
James became an institution on the British alternative music scene during the ’80s and ’90s thanks to their catchy songwriting and intelligent lyrics.
Early in their career, they were praised by the likes of Morrissey and even crashed the acid house-inspired “baggy” scene with the baggy-inspired Sit Down, a hit that helped catapult them to massive fame.
Buoyed by the success of that track, however, the band became more experimental and eclectic, changing their sound and creating a unique template for success in Tim Booth’s distinct vocal style and delivery – not to mention his physical prowess in live form.
Hits came in the form of the epic Sound, the euphoric Ring The Bells, the anthemic Tomorrow and Destiny Calling and the enchanting change of pace that marked the lush romanticism of Just Like Fred Astaire.
Unfortunately, the band decided to split as they seemed to be going from strength to strength, citing solo ambitions as the reason to part company. A farewell tour was memorably delivered but tinged with sadness at the loss of a band that was continually willing to push their sound forward and do something different on the mainstream indie scene.
That was 2001 and six years later they’ve decided to reform, hit the road and record some new material. But as a reminder of the story so far, they’ve put out another greatest hits compilation (to rival 1998’s Best Of) in the form of the double CD Fresh As A Daisy: The Singles.
As its name suggests, this is all about the hits rather than the personal favourites and picks up the story of the whole career – from early take-notice offerings Folklore and If Things Were Perfect to the songs that defined their biggest successes.
What’s most striking about the songs (particularly during the second CD) is just how timeless many of them are. Whereas a lot of “baggy” tracks contain a retro glow that keeps them rooted in the era, a lot of James’ work seems to transcend such boundaries.
Sit Down does sound dated and was even rubbished by the band themselves as one of their least favourite recordings – but songs like Sound, Ring The Bells, Born of Frustration and the beautifully under-rated Say Something continue to sound as fresh and inspired as they were way back when…
And it’s only through listening to an extensive compilation such as this that you begin to realise how many hits James delivered, from the easy sing-along value of live favourites such as Destiny Calling, Laid and Come Home to the more thoughtful moments such as She’s A Star and Getting Away With It (All Messed Up).
Of the two new tracks, Who Are You? expertly combines the vocal theatrics of songs like Sound with an altogether grittier guitar sound to produce a song easily capable of appealing to both their existing following and the uninitiated, and Chameleon is a clever stop-start track that’s delivered with verve.
So, whether you’re intending to buy it as a reminder of memories old, or trying to discover what the fuss is all about, or even just playing catch up, Fresh As A Daisy (clever name) is well worth a place in anyone’s record collection.
Fourteen years down the line from Stutter, Whiplash is far from a consolidation of past success. It’s the sound of a band fighting out of a corner, rising to their own challenge and proving themselves once again.
That isn’t to say the record doesn’t take it’s cues from previous efforts. The same thread of intimacy that drew together Laid is pitched with the experimental dance dynamic so prevalent in Wah Wah. Tim Booth’s crystal tone weaves typically potent tales of despair, but more pressingly of rejuvenation. "Got to keep faith that your luck will change", he intones on the charged gem of an opener, ‘Tomorrow’. It’s that track that sets the agenda for the revival, its punching melody and glorious chorus pushing the bands focus away from their recent introversion.
Though the single, ‘She’s A Star’ treads the same, successful vein it’s the tracks that follow which constitute a real progression. The sceptical broadside ‘Greenpeace’ serves as a bridge between the crafted pop of the first half and the unwavering dance of the second. Booth’s wistful vocal punctuated by bursts of drum and bass. Perhaps it’s a risk for an established band to take on a new sound without looking desperate, but more often than not they manage to pull it off. What Goldie and Ed Rush would make of it though, is another story.
What makes it credible is that it isn’t a token effort, the rest of the album follows in this modernist trend. The hard house sound of ‘Go To The Bank’ and ‘Play Dead’ may seem to eager to push the band’s dance credentials, but this is countered by the melodic techno strains of ‘Avalanche’ and ‘Watering Hole’. It’s on these tracks that the new sound is most effective, as it is combined with the traditional songwriting we’ve come to expect of James. ‘Avalanche’ in particular gives Booth chance to soar like a distant deity over its strong melody and sparse beats.
With a new future forged, the band allow themselves one indulgence. The foray into the past that is ‘Blue Pastures’; an intimate , acoustic track that harks back to ‘Laid's’ claustrophobic ballads.
It may be that this album doesn’t please the fans. It’s likely it won’t please the critics. But then, this record is primarily about the band themselves. It’s an album that had to be made to prove they have a future and that they can be part of the future. After all, if you stand still to long all you can do is sit down.
Titled as a direct result of the band increasing to a 7 piece, Tim Booth and cohorts released their fullest sounding, grandest produced and most satisfying release. Their stock as a live band had never been questioned, but their album releases up until “Seven” had been patchy, and it seems that the response would be to fill out the traditional jangly pop elements with a harder arena style rock sound. Many comparisons at the time associated the sound with classic Arena Rock similar to Simple Minds, which is an unfair comparison because although there is a surging crowd pleasing grandeur, singer Tim Booth maintains a level of resolute intimacy, expounding his lyrical obsessions of war, religion, and sex. The war theme seems a direct result of the Gulf conflict of the previous year and both “Bring A Gun” and “Mother” where Booth opens with the lines “These wars are motherfuckers, how many sons will we kill today?”Partly produced by Youth, Steve Chase and the band, the first half of “Seven” is James at their blistering best. The addition of Trumpet playing Andy Diagram adds to the plunging pop surge of the opener “Born Of Frustration”, and Booth yells out insecurities with abandon, employing lines like “I don’t need a shrink, but an Exorcist”. The dramatic “Ring The Bells” passionately displays Booths inner atheist beliefs as he repeats the line “I no longer feel God watching over me” and the rhythm and performance of the song seems to add a weird exaltation to his discovery. “Sound”, “Bring A Gun” and “Mother” continue the momentum perfectly, and although the quality isn’t maintained throughout, the final cut and title track “Seven” is the most gloriously produced and possibly best song of the bands career. A wonderful string arrangement is supported by Diagram’s lonely distant Trumpet and guitarist Larry Gott’s tender embellishment, all set to Booths questioning of the many facets of Love as he bares himself with the line “Darling, I’m open, Unguarded, Unbroken”.
“Seven” is a more than worthy addition; it’s a creative compilation of a band developing their ideas with a complete and wholesome passion.
Once dubbed the next Smiths, Manchester, England’s James – lead singer Tim Booth, bassist Jim Glennie, guitarist Larry Gott, drummer David Baynton-Power, and violinist Saul Davies – labored in something akin to musical obscurity until the release of its third album, Gold Mother, in 1990. Released at the height of “Madchester” indie rock, the album spawned the massive U.K. hit single “Sit Down”. But it wasn’t until the 1993 release of Laid (James’ fifth album) that the U.S. music industry and fans took notice. Perhaps it was the album cover artwork, which featured the band’s members sporting a variety of summer dresses, that initially drew attention. Or maybe it was the catchy, easy-to-sing-along-with title track (now a permanent fixture in many a bar jukebox). Whatever the reason, between the album’s release and the end of the band’s triumphant U.S. tour in 1994, the album became its biggest stateside hit. Even a cursory listen reveals why. On the heels of an acoustic tour with Neil Young, the band actively sought to steer their music into a quieter, more contemplative direction when they began the recording sessions for Laid. Working with uber-producer Brian Eno, they succeeded in creating an intimate collection of songs that both alluded to and expanded the indie-rock sound of their previous four releases. They refined their sound and sharpened their songwriting to create an album that is at turns folky (“One of the Three”), ambient (“Skindiving”), and anthemic (“Laid”, “Low Low Low”). The quick and dirty title track doesn’t hint at the album’s languid pace and emotional complexity. Laid takes its time unfolding, and throughout the album, the band marries stirring melodies to thoughtful, emotionally resonant lyrics. Haunting album opener “Out to Get You” begins with gently strummed guitars before swelling to the climax of Booth’s yearning cry, “The human touch is what I need.” Overall, the album hangs together on thematic threads of love, loss, hope, and spirituality. At one end of the spectrum are melancholy songs like “One of the Three” (a meditation on sacrificing oneself for others) and “Lullaby” (an eerie tale of physical abuse). Such poignant moments are contrasted with tracks like the joyous “Sometimes (Lester Piggot)” and its earnest, gospel-like chorus (“Sometimes, when I look deep in your eyes, I swear I can see your soul”). The bawdy title track – which got even more exposure from its use in the film American Pie – celebrates a lusty, if dysfunctional, romantic relationship. James doesn’t always take a sanguine view of love. Standout track “Five-O” at first seethes, then swells to a chorus that’s a stinging indictment of love (“If it lasts forever/hope I’m the first to die”). On “P.S.”, a sinister, loping guitar figure propels the song as it describes a disintegrating relationship (“You liar, you liar/You can’t live the dreams you’re spinning”). On the flip side, “Say Something” – the album’s second single and a minor hit on U.S. college radio – celebrates first love with synths and Britpop percussion. At the time of its release, reviewers on both sides of the Atlantic called Laid one of the best albums of the ’90s. Sixteen years later, it’s hard to disagree. From the opening strains of “Out To Get You” to the last haunting notes of the sprawling, ambient “Skindiving”, there isn’t a bad track in this collection. Moreover, the album sounds as vibrant today as the day of its release. A career peak for an underrated band, Laid proved that it was still possible to make intelligent, accessible pop music.
