Hecklergigs: The Jesus And Mary Chain - The Roundhouse, 12/3

Jim Reid once described the experience of playing in a band with his brother William as ‘like being locked in a cupboard with somebody for 15 years’, the point being that if it was anyone else you could open the door, push them out, then kick them in the arse for good measure.  

Of course, you can’t really do that to your brother (just think of the trouble you’d be in with mum), but the Reid boys managed something similar when they killed The Jesus and Mary Chain live on stage in 1998 with a raging argument.

Unfortunately, there’s no footage of that event on YouTube, but you can find a video of the 1985 riot that the band were blamed for. It’s legends like this, coupled with the bickering of the brothers Reid, that built the bands reputation as mad, bad and dangerous to know, and it continues to linger today.

In fact, it’s the reason that, when the first gig of a two day stint at London’s Roundhouse is cancelled, fan forums go into overdrive with speculation that William and Jim aren’t as chummy as they would have you believe following their recent reunion.  

The other theory is that ticket sales were poor, but they have at least consented to play their second engagement, so the venue is packed as they appear.

Jim’s the first out, and his new (sensible) haircut suggests a more mature frontman. In contrast, William appears at the side of the stage with exactly the same barnet as ever. Although the added weight he’s carrying makes it look like the JAMC have got Tim Burton on guitar, you’ve got to admire a man so committed to one do.  

They quickly strike up Never Understand and the effect is immediate, yanking the front row back into 1985 by the lapels of their leather jackets. Jim’s vocals sound achingly cool as ever above the Velvet Underground drumming and Williams’ scratchy feedback, and as they run through singles including Some Candy Talking and Far Gone And Out, they settle down and even chat. Of course, this increases the potential for arguments, and Jim has to reassure his brother that a remark "wasn’t about you. I’ll tell you later."

Close, but they manage not to fight, and treat the crowd to more hits plus rarities like their cover of Syd Barrett’s Vegetable Man ("if Syd Barret wasn’t dead, this’d kill him") before finishing with the once-banned Reverence.

They sound so good that nostalgia is unavoidable, and with the current crop of JAMC wannabes like The Raveonettes, Magnetic Fields and The Kills, it would be easy to enjoy this as just a hearty blast from the past.  

However, the presence of new tracks like All Things Must Pass and the promised new album suggest that the JAMC will become a credible and current presence in the music world once again. Let’s just hope they can stomach being back in that cupboard a little while longer.

[story by Tom Atkinson]