Style survivors
James mix old U2 with new trip-hop
by Gary Susman
"Everybody thinks the new wave is super/Just ask Linda Ronstadt or even Alice
Cooper." So sang Weird Al Yankovic two decades ago in his parody "It's Still
Billy Joel to Me," at a time when seemingly everyone in the pop universe was
jumping on an up-from-the-underground bandwagon. In those days, it was the
skinny-tie, power-pop, post-punk, so-called new wave. Today, it's electronica,
techno, jungle, drum-and-bass, whatever they're calling it this week.
Mainstream popsters from U2 to Eric Clapton are trip-hopping all over each
other in the rush to make electronic hay while the ambient sun shines.
So listeners can be forgiven if they perceive the veteran pop sextet James as
only the most recent Tricky-come-lately on their new release Whiplash
(Fontana/Mercury). The Manchester-based band have been around for 14 years,
building a rep on endless touring, finally breaking through in America with the
goofy title track to their sixth album, 1993's Laid. The group's
traditional pop smarts were evident, both in the tightly crafted arrangements
and singer Tim Booth's literate, introspective lyrics (he named the band after
James Joyce). A cursory listen to the 1993 edition of James wouldn't have
suggested a band eager to rumble in the electronic jungle.
Still, in 1994, after three years of touring America, James nearly fell apart
over the departure of longtime guitarist Larry Gott, the discovery that the
band owed five years of back taxes, and Booth's creative restlessness. James
released Wah Wah, a double album of experimental outtakes from the
Laid sessions; waited while Booth satisfied his solo-project jones with
1995's Booth and the Bad Angel, an album he made with atmospheric
composer Angelo Badalamenti; and finally reunited in early 1996 to record
Whiplash, with consulting producer Brian Eno, who had overseen
Laid. (Actually twiddling the knobs on Whiplash was producer
Stephen Hague.) Given the presence of ambient godfather Eno and New Order vet
Hague, as well as the three years of esoteric experimenting, the electronic
noodling on Whiplash seems less a jarring jump into trendiness than a
logical evolution.
Perhaps in an effort not to frighten off old fans, the new album moves only
gradually into the jungle. The lead track, "Tomorrow," echoes "Laid" in David
Baynton-Power's galloping, heart-racing drumbeats. Its dramatic build-up of
rhythmic tension, soaring guitar riffs (played by Gott's fine replacement,
Adrian Oxaal), circular chord progression, and vaguely inspirational lyrics all
recall U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name" and "With or Without You." Booth's
keening, ringing, breathy voice evokes Bono's throughout Whiplash.
"Lost a Friend" continues in a similar vein, as does the single, "She's a
Star," with Booth showing off his fine falsetto and the band displaying a
penchant for Beatlesque harmonies. There's even a folksy, pub-sing-along,
may-the-road-rise-to-meet-you song called "Waltzing Along" (though it's in a
4/4 shuffle) before the trip-hop hits the fans.
The new stream begins to flow under "Greenpeace," where the burbling
electronic undercurrent sets the mood for a compassion-fatigued meditation on
environmentalism. James expertly evoke a similar sense of ennui and futility
with the electronic bleeps of "Go to the Bank," which wryly offers consumerism
as a cure for depression and heartbreak. The band explore a variety of other
soundscapes, to uplifting, ironic, or brooding effect, on the next few songs
before working their way back out of the electronic underbrush with the final
two tracks. Even here, on the eerie "Watering Hole" and the deceptively quiet
pastoral "Blue Pastures," there's a sinister humming synthesized ostinato.
Yet the most stirring songs on Whiplash reflect a surprisingly gloomy
vision in their lyrics. "Lost a Friend" moans about the narcotizing effects of
television. "She's a Star" is actually the tale of a lonely, unappreciated
woman. "Avalanche" offers a bitter fuck-you to an ambitious adversary. That
these tunes still play as anthemic fist wavers is testament to the band's
expertise at creating rousing, rich textures. (Besides Booth, Baynton-Power,
and Oxaal, the line-up includes bassist Jim Glennie, keyboardist Mark Hunter,
and violinist Saul Davies.) Nonetheless, it's unusual to see a Beatles-inspired
band with a full-time fiddle player experimenting with cutting-edge electronic
music. Maybe James named the album Whiplash after the way one feels
trying to look backward while moving forward.