(#9 in a series of 10 albums that shaped my musical taste)
I’d just like to say to all you young folks that if you’re playing in a band and your raison d’être is complete indifference.. if you’re playing that card, “look at us, we’re chaotic and we don’t care about anything, least of all our fans”..
Don’t. Pack it in, think of something else. You couldn’t hope to do it better than The Jesus And Mary Chain, and if you wanted to try, you’d actually have to put some effort in. And of course you’re not supposed to care that much.
For Jim and William Reed, the blistering sound of distortion and feedback said everything they wanted to say. Rank amateur Bobby Gillespie behind the “drumkit”, slovenly vocals, murky bass, amplifier hiss.. an unholy racket.
Penetrating the murk, however, were proper pop songs. Echoes of Phil Spector. The classic sound of The Crystals, The Ronettes and The Beach Boys.
Played by lazy slackers.
Drowned in screeching sheets of white noise.
Lovely stuff. Twenty five years ago, I’d heard nothing like it.
I didn’t see The Jesus And Mary Chain live until much later. Less daunting a prospect.
P.S. The final part of The Sacred Days You Gave Me: 1989