Old indie-rock bands don’t fade away anymore—they merely fester and split, then inevitably reunite for a lucrative run through the internet-fueled nostalgia circuit. More often than not, they then turn to the tried-and-true formula of touring their “classic” album in its entirety. And really, who can blame them? It’s a win/win situation for both band and audience—the musicians get to revel in crowd adoration and are handsomely compensated, while the fans get to relive their dim and distant youth. And thus, we have erstwhile East Kilbride art-pop terrorists the Jesus And Mary Chain currently touring their unhinged masterpiece and bona fide game-changer, Psychocandy, in all its febrile, demented glory, 30 years on.
And for the most part, they still sound astoundingly good, despite the dubious value of live albums in general. With typical perversity, they play their encore first, and so the set begins with a seven-song run through sundry classics, an especially bruised and gorgeous “Some Candy Talking,” being a standout. That said, JAMC do sound relatively restrained until they hit “Reverence,” where they suddenly shift up a gear—howling squalls of feedback begin to grow in intensity, the sound of the impending apocalypse is upon us, and all is right with the world.
While Jim Reid comes on like Leonard Cohen’s surly reprobate nephew, as Psychocandy unfurls in full, brother William revels in his role as one-man guitar army. Their heady blend of industrial white noise mixed with the pop suss of the Shangri-Las reminds you of just how genuinely incendiary they sounded first time around back in the shiny, glossy vapid mid-’80s. Cheap nostalgia and cynicism be damned. They still sound—on this evidence at least—utterly majestic.
—Neil Ferguson
