Feels A Lot Like Love That I Feel For You…

No reviews this time, no gigs unfortunately, though the upside of James being locked away in a studio recording the new album is tantalisingly exciting. This is the inspirational bit, the bit where I attempt to put into words the importance of what this band do to me, physically and emotionally. I’ve said a lot about the transformational effect that this year and it’s James related activity has had on me. About a year and a half ago I rediscovered James and started writing again, proper writing that one day will add up into a novel of some sort. It was very cathartic, I listened, cried buckets, picked up a pen and the words just flowed out from some locked up place. But more has been released than just my words. I guess at its most basic level I’ve felt connected again, connected to everything that at my core is important to me at a very primeval level. I wanted to go home, but I’d lost the map. This year and the James related madness has been, excuse the cliche, a voyage of discovery where I've found myself again and been able to move on after an overly extended hiatus.

Not just any music does it for me. Something happens when I listen to James that moves my spine, stretches my neck, moves me at a molecular level. I regularly laugh out loud at the insanity of what I’ve had to re-remember this year. Movement is something that has been a part of my life for so long that for a while I forgot what it meant to me. This year has thrown so much back into place with all of that. Many years ago when I was a student I picked up two leaflets for two different courses, one was for a Gabrielle Roth 5 Rhythms class, the other was for something called Life Moves with an amazing woman called Mala Sikka, who was based in South Wales at the time. It took the mindfulness of yoga and tai chi to some fantastical space beyond, at the time I couldn’t put into words what it meant, I needed space and time to grow older and wiser before I could understand the path I’d embarked upon. The movement work was very bare and raw, we worked in silence, it was a very intense period of attunement. At the time I had no idea that Tim was involved in the 5 Rhythms thing, which is amusing and bizarre at the same time. For me in the last couple of years, one of the funniest and most intriguing things about rediscovering James is finding out how so many of the things I spent 10 years trying to work out had their seeds sown way back. Listening to Chainmail live this year suddenly made the penny drop, my body began to move properly again. Consciously, unconsciously and sub consciously all at the same time. Ah well, that’s life I guess. I'm glad to be alive again.

Something was said recently on one of the James forums recently about the sexual side of James’ performances. Moving your body, dancing, sweating with strangers doesn’t have to be limited to being a sexual thing. It is and can be sexy, but it’s so much more. We’ve narrowed down our routes to experiencing joy so much, that I think we confuse ourselves at times into thinking that things are the only way. When I dance it goes beyond words. When James play they throw out energy in all directions, I think it’s why Tim stresses the importance of connection so much. That energy circles, it goes from band to audience and back again. When you feel that take you, and you dance into oblivion, then yes it is sexual and impulsive on a very everyday level. But step outside your conditioning, what you feel is release, release from the crap that accumulates on us and wears us down, release from our self imposed boundaries, release from reality. I’m trying to find words that won’t end up being twisted by others into a suggestion that James gigs are some kinda mad tantric orgy. James are a sexy band, in particular they have a divinely sexy Tim and Larry, and the others aren’t bad either. Their music is impulsive and spontaneous, it gets confused with sex because most of us only experience that total abandonment during sex, we associate all that mad fizzing joy with that alone and don’t realise that it exists in so many other forms. Hence Tim saying ‘Sex is overrated, I need to dance.’ God, I understand that. There’s that line in a Sit Down, that Tim is singing to Doris Lessing and Patti Smith, ‘Feels a lot like love, that I feel for you’ and that just encapsulates it. Love, joy, passion, lust they all operate in so many ways, not just by the surface and obvious.

I say all this largely because I’m clutching at straws to find a way to explain how this band have cast such a magical spell over me. I sometimes wonder if there are subliminal hypnotic messages embedded in their words and sounds. I’ve spent years travelling around India, trying to learn, and yet it is listening to James that opens up the cosmos to me. Irony is a splendid thing. Magic abounds when those guys get up onstage, I can only believe they have an awareness of that.

A non review of a non performance

A night not really like any night I’ve ever experienced. It’s hard to write a review on the basis of songs heard once fleetingly, so much of the intensity and expectation was of the moment. It truly was a night of the gap between crack and thunder, a moment that hung briefly in time, never to be repeated. If that sounds dramatic then it’s meant to be. It was a very special night.

Waiting outside during soundcheck and hearing sounds we’d never heard before was thrilling. We knew it was going to be different, but even so the frisson of excitement that came when we saw the setlist inside the venue, a setlist comprised entirely of new songs took me by surprise. It bravely did what we’d been told to expect, there were no concessions to even new songs we know like Upside. It also marks a crunch point for James. This is where the reunion really begins; the derailment of writing processes caused by the tour and festivals over the summer was part one of this story. This is part two, the part that counts the most, the part where these guys have to pull out the stops and play their cards. We’ve heard about these new songs all summer, now ladies and gentlemen, the show is really beginning….

What follows is my attempt to make some sense of the hungover notes I scrawled on the train home to Nottingham. I’ll go through my thoughts on each song and then add some comments at the end. Like the gig it’s a bit raw, a bit unstructured, but that seems to be the best way to describe such a strange and beautiful night.

CHILD TO BURN – Good start, not staggering, but I enjoyed it. I’d probably have preferred a slightly bolshier introduction.
GOOD MOOD SUNDAY – Loved the title when I saw the setlist, but not so sure about this one. That’s to say it got a seven… It wasn’t the most memorable track of the night.
OUT OF OUR HEADS – Gig gets rocking for me with this one. It’s catchy and gets me bouncing along merrily, always a good sign. Can’t help but sing along. I love the fine line James walk between throwaway and divinely inspiring. This one has potential to be one of those songs.
HEY MA – Been looking forward to hearing this, as I wasn’t at the Edinburgh gig. I liked it a lot. Couldn’t make out the lyrics clearly enough, and I can’t read backwards through the lyric stand. I could make out the ‘boys in body bags coming home in pieces bit’ which frankly is something that needs to be said. We seem to be living in an absurdly apathetic age, and no one is making music that makes a stand. The critics will probably pan it for the 9/11 thing, but who cares, I’d rather speak out than be one of the senseless party-goers as Rome burns around me. Aside from subject matter, musically it sounded excellent.
WATERFALL – Sounded good, probably more of an album track than a live one, like Fear.
PURE BEAUTY – Larry’s guitar sounded ace on this one, really ace.
I WANNA GO HOME – More guitar heaven from Larry. Had that yearning thing going on that I love. ‘In this bar I’m dying’ –love that line. I could quite easily have cried.
A/B – This one felt a bit rough, there’s something in there but I’m not sure where it’s headed right now. Loved the guitar, which was reminiscent of the reworked Chainmail - a favourite of mine, it was a bit funky and pulled together more could sound very good.
MOTHERS A CLOWN – I laughed at the title of this one. My Mum wouldn’t babysit for me because she was waiting in for a case of wine to be delivered. My Mum truly is a clown, but not in a good way. Apparently the song is about Mum’s being clowns in a good way. I’m hoping my own kids see me in the good category. Despite the way I keep abandoning them too run off to James gigs. I was trying to listen to the lyrics but couldn’t catch them clearly enough, my one complaint about Hoxton as a venue is that the vocals get lost a bit, to the point of inaudibility at times.
BETTER IN BLACK- I wrote down something about fish heads and stray cats on the original setlist that Larry nabbed off me. I really liked the vocal style on this one; it was punchy and really had something about it.
OH MY HEART – This one was epic, again Larry’s guitar was awesomely good. Oh My Heart? I thought it was going to burst.
FEAR? – I can imagine this as an awesome album track. I’d lie down and float off somewhere. Live it drifted a bit for me, but I think that was environment more than song. When you’re stood so close to the band it’s sometimes hard to know where to look, especially when Larry has his inscrutable sunglasses on.
WHITE BOY – The cow bell one. Great. It had a slightly manic feel, in that way James songs are a bit off kilter and not like anything else any other bands do. As keeps being said, focus track potential.
BUBBLES – At last a song I’ve heard before! This blew me away at Belladrum, and it blew me away again tonight. That chorus, I’m Aliiiive, it just does it for me in that James way. It is joy, it is celebration of life, and it is connection. It’s why I love this band so much.
BOOM BOOM – I was expecting some fireworks, but this seemed a bit of a flat way to end. I think there could be something good in there, but it’s not found its way to the surface yet.

Saul getting the violin out more was brilliant, I hope that continues, in fact I insist it continues.

There was also some awesome drumming from Dave on a couple of tracks, very old school James, one track reminded me a bit of Medieval, whichever song it was, it sounded really good and I hope that stays through to the final cut.

It was slightly disappointing not having an encore, Upside and Not So Strong would’ve really finished the night off for me, we were literally begging for more, and it would’ve been nice to have been finished off …

I really hope that the production is good on the new album. Lee Baker being involved cheers me greatly as I have a tremendous amount of respect for him. The songs on Monday were raw and unpolished, but I hope that the rawness shines through the final cut. So often James seem to get overproduced, songs seem to get perfected beyond perfection and the final result detracts from what James truly are, a band whose greatest strength is tightrope walking the fine line between anarchy and chaos. When James are on fire live they create a divinely beautiful spontaneity. I’m not sure how that can happen in the studio, I’m not a musician, but I really do hope Lee can tweak that out of them.

.

My strongest connection with James is lyrically, I just love the way Tim writes them. I can’t remember the exact quote but somewhere in my age addled brain is something Nietzsche said about music filling a gap that words can’t express. For me song lyrics do something poetry can’t, they express emotion and intensity perfectly. I am a text person, and for me to like music the lyrics have to stir my soul. On Monday some of the lyrics seemed a bit too reliant on repetition. It’s not too long before recording begins, and I was expecting something slightly more coherent by now. Not having been privy to such an opus in composition before, maybe that’s the way it always is. Maybe things magically come together, my personal writing processes are very unstructured and I guard my work in progress cautiously, so it’s a brave move to stand up and be counted when you’re only halfway there. This is not meant as a slight in any way, and it’s going to be fascinating to see how the songs evolve.

So really this is it, the bit where James have to do what they’ve been promising us, all that stuff about balls and risk taking is crucial now. The gigs so far this year have filled my heart with absolute joy, now I want to hear an album that does the same. On the evidence of what I’ve heard I’m feeling very positive. Do us proud boys!

The road to Belladrum

This is not a review. It’s more an explanation of why roadtrips and general madness are such a good idea. Don’t expect objectivity, or comments on sound quality and what guitar Larry used for which song. This is the road to Belladrum and beyond through the eyes of Goldmother.

A little over a year ago I didn’t do this kind of thing. There I was in my little suburban life growing my organic veg, taking the kids to school, being normal, doing normal things. That’s not a slight on growing your own veg, or taking the kids to school, but things had got a bit boring. And I’m not a boring kind of girl. Then in January I got an email. It was an email that changed my year entirely. I think you know what that email informed me of.

Since then, well, it’s all gone a bit mad. I started off with a ticket for the MEN gig in April. Through fate and madness I ended up getting to the first Hoxton gig in March. Armed with train fare, a hotel room booked and a couple of tickets, off I trotted to London. It became a defining feature of the year. Just the MEN gig wasn’t going to be enough, so tickets for Birmingham were quickly bought, the MEN gig turned into an entire weekend of James festivities. A couple of months later came another mad, last minute dash down to London for Hoxton 2. When the fellow Mums in my village started to question whether I was having some kind of mid life crisis, the only reply I could think of was that maybe I was, but at least I wasn’t on Prozac like them. I had James instead.

Then there was Glasgow. Three women, one car, and a mission to see James play 6 hours drive away. We made it, a great night ensued. Suddenly Scotland didn’t seem so far away. Hell, thought I, Inverness can’t be that much further than Glasgow, lets go to Belladrum. Stupidly, at this point my mind lost all reason, I began to imagine balmy evenings, the children playing in the setting sun….. Belladrum was a great idea… taking the kids to their first James gig was an even better idea. Tim thought it was, and who can argue with him?

Fast forward. Thursday 9^th August. I have dropped Mr G off at work, and now I’m heading northwards to the furthest reaches of this country. With two kids in the back of the car, and a journey ahead of me the satnav predicts to be 7hrs 44mins. The weather forecast is not brilliant. The car is packed with head to toe gore tex outfits and wellies. It was not what I had planned to be honest. However, the miles slip away in a pleasant haze of chocolate éclairs and plenty of singing along to James. My lovely daughter perfects her technique of screaming for no reason. Why are you screaming Amber? Because I like screaming. I can scream really loud! And yes indeed she can.

As the miles rack up I start to wonder how many people out there do this kind of thing. I begin to question my sanity. I start to feel sick from eating too many sweets. Then the motorway ends and with at least a couple of hours drive still ahead of me, it’s A roads all the way. The reality of just how far away Inverness is starts to hit me. The A9 north of Perth is the longest straightest, possibly dullest road I’ve ever driven on. Especially when you’re stuck behind a hay lorry. Going at 35 miles an hour. There’s not nearly enough dual carriageway on the A9. Nor enough snipers taking out lorries.

After getting lost in Beauly (the genius that is satnav doesn’t recognise the Belladrum postcode) we finally arrive at our destination. As I climb/ fall out the car I have a sensation akin to sea sickness. I have stopped moving at last. Now I just have a tent to put up, kids to feed, and a really long queue to get wristbands. At this point huge kudos goes out to Su and Zip, who helped me enormously, ferrying stuff from the car, helping get the tent up. A huge and much deserved thankyou.

Stuff happens inbetween Thursday night and James. My son decides he hates dark tents (so any bands playing in tents are out) and more disturbingly decides he doesn’t like loud music. My daughter decides she is unable to walk anywhere, and needs to be carried. I start to worry that by the time James get onstage I’ll just be a hunchbacked cripple. There is a bouncy castle though. I have driven 500 miles to take the kids on a bouncy castle. I question my sanity again. A drunken public schoolboy stops by our tent on the Friday night. A legend in his own imagination, he asks me which school I went too. Bless him, he was in a state of trauma because all he wanted to do was be a musician (man) but his parents wanted him to be a diplomat. They never offered that as a career option at my school strangely.

James.

The rain begins mid afternoon. Proper rain. Proper festival mud inducing rain. Armed with my wellies and lovely waterproofs I find Lisa and Mac. With outrageous luck (or alarming predictability) my husband and kids manage to find us outside the beer tent. As James – time approaches Me Lisa and Mac abandon Mr G and the kids to their wet and muddy fate. We bustle our way to the front, to claim our spot in front of Larry.

The comments started pretty soon, by fellow festival goers who as Mac so succinctly put it, blamed us personally for the death of William Wallace. I have been to many places in the world and been accused of many things because I was born in England but nowhere have I faced quite such bitter hatred. I didn’t care frankly, James were about to come on. But I could’ve done without it to be honest.

After so many gigs this year, I still haven’t lost the thrill of seeing the boys walk onstage. It still seems like a miracle, I want to pinch myself and ask if it could really be happening to me again. Larry’s intro to Born Of Frustration begins and the excitement sweeps me away, we’re all whooping away, dancing frenetically, oblivious to the rain. If it couldn’t get more frenetic, Tomorrow lifts me up beyond frenzy and Sit Down, which always seems such a cliché on paper just always hits the spot live. You can’t help but love it. The abuse starts to make a return during Chain Mail. I can’t help but REALLY dance to this song. It’s about dancing, loosing yourself, freeing yourself afterall. Some girl behind me takes exception to me having a small backpack (and I mean small) No I am not going to put it down in the mud so you can stamp on it. I may be English, but I didn’t leave my brain at the border. I carry on dancing and try to loose myself again.

Play Dead has sounded amazing this year. I’ve enjoyed it so much, as an album track I liked it, but it didn’t blow me away completely. I have revised that opinion since Hoxton 1, and it’s got better and better. Out To Get You is just always right. It makes all the grand gestures without ever becoming too cloying or sentimental. It has more perfection in one note than anything ever written by U2. And that is fact, it’s not up for discussion or debate. Unfortunately my enjoyment of it is darkened by a tap on my shoulder from annoying girl. As I haven’t let her stamp on my bag, she has unzipped it, emptied the contents out (new gore tex coat included) and trodden them into the mud. I miss a good deal of this magical song because I’m trying to retrieve my possessions out of the sodden ground. I am unimpressed to say the least. Bag safely dispatched to safer ground with Robin and Dave at the barrier, I get on with my gig.

Tim begins introducing Bubble with a dedication to Tony Wilson. While some make their appreciation known and applaud the memory of the legendary man, I can’t help but hear someone shouting ‘welcome to Scotland.’ It’s a shame, but probably to be expected from a festival crowd. Bubble and Upside are songs that get me very excited about the new album. They have everything that I want from James songs, and then more. While Bubble sounds raw and new and very unpolished as yet, it has that James quality that makes it an old friend on first airing. I was still singing ‘I’m Aliiiive’ the next morning. Upside truly does feel like an established James classic now. It’s yearning, it soars, it’s just beautiful. I lose the ability to speak with any clarity on this one, all I can say is that I’m with Jim, I love it.

Disappointingly, but perhaps sensibly, Tim looks out at the audience, sussing out his escape routes into the crowd but decides to stay on the stage for Say Something.

Next up is my song, Gold Mother. I can’t help but feel slightly proprietorial about this song. It is mine, and Larry knows it. He’s calling me up onto the stage for the customary fan dance off, Tim acknowledges this by giving me and Mac the nod. Reader, my heart is pounding. Mac is up and over the barrier. I am stuck. The barrier is very high, and as I scramble over it, pulled by security one way, my feet held onto by annoying girl, I’m starting to wonder what I did to her in a previous life. It’s not a pretty sight, I feel as inelegant as a beached whale. In Skegness. But once over the barrier, the bastard security start trying to evict me. Larry protests for me, and I scramble onto the stage before further mishap can occur. I bounce across the stage to an ecstatic Mac, who’s grinning away like you’ve never seen a man grin before. This song is infectious. For me it embodies what James are about live. It builds and grows, you never know where it’s going. On the edge of anarchy and collapse it just keeps going and gets better and better. And then Larry kicks in. Pure, pure, excellence. And I am up there. It feels damn good. I get a quick chat and kiss from Larry at the end of the song and we are escorted off to claim our backstage passes. There is a story behind all this, but you’ll just have to make your own guesses at that one…

Ring The Bells and Sometimes I hear, but don’t see. In my overexcitement I forgot I’d left my bag at the front of the stage. Money, cash, cards, phone and car keys. Everything. I’m abandoned to the moment but not that abandoned that I want to spend the rest of my life a pauper in Inverness. Numerous battles with security ensue. In the end I give in to my fate. There’s a lesson there.

My ears prick up when I hear She’s A Star, which I adore. The pared down reworking seems to suit the core of the song better, makes it more fragile and less bombastic, taking it back to the meaning of the lyrics as Tim wrote them. As it soars to its conclusion I hold my head in the air, close my eyes and just drink it all in. It is gorgeous. Even in a patch of mud outside the production portacabin.

We catch Getting Away With It, down at the side of the stage, my security battles forgotten for the moment. Another song which was good but not sensational, that’s been transformed this year.

Come Home from the side of the stage is phenomenal, the speaker is painfully close to me, I can feel the blasts of air as the sound pumps out of it. Tim lingers on the intonation of the vocals making it sound just as visceral as it first did to me 17 years ago in my teenage bedroom. Then the fireworks start. I am dancing like a loony and James are onstage playing Come Home to within an inch of its life. I am singing my heart out, the sky is on fire, this is joy, pure joy. Only James can exalt you to these levels of ecstasy. There is possibly nothing better. Well not in a muddy field with 10000 other people anyway.

Coda:

Once my bag dilemmas have been resolved, a task that required running and hiding from a vicious security Nazi I get to enjoy the aftershow. Believe me, if you’d told me a year ago I’d be stood in the rain chatting away with the band post gig, and not for the first time this year I’d probably have laughed in your face. And then laughed again. The warmth and generosity the band have shown myself and others, their willingness to put up with ‘the stalkers and obsessives’ is outstanding. Particular mention has to go to the very wonderful Larry who is a total gentleman and my hugest thanks go out to him. Mr Gott, if you happen to read this, one of those ‘Goldmotherly kisses’ in your direction right now. To answer a question he asked in a less rambling and drunken fashion, all this craziness this year hasn’t been about reliving some halcyon youth. It’s been about rediscovering fun and myself again after a long hiatus. Lots of things have suddenly started to make sense again, maybe that would’ve happened without James, I don’t know, but James kickstarted that, which makes them special and this whole year special. Watching James this year has filled me with joy and connection more than they’ve ever done. When I hear James play I feel like I’m stood on a mountaintop with the howling wind blowing through me, my spine tingles and I feel unbelievably alive. This is not a rehash of greatest hits and golden times, this is the way forward and a new beginning. For all of us. I’m looking forward to it.

I’m Alive…. Repeat to fade

Hoxton 2 June 25th 2007

I am about to go out to take my son to school, and my daughter to Mums and Tots. The phone bleeps with a message. It reads two simple but joyful words. Gig Alert. Unceremoniously, my husband is turfed off the computer while I log into the James cyber hotline. There is a gig in London in 5 days time. I gabble away excitedly to my bemused husband. I probably jump up and down a lot. We are going, there are no ifs or buts or maybes anymore. It's James. We are going.
An hour later I walk into Mums and Tots, a friend clocks me, sees my grin and rolls her eyes. You're off to see James again aren't you she asks. Predictable? Me? Perhaps when James are involved.
Of course these things never run smoothly. In the meantime our house nearly gets flooded twice. On Monday morning the waters are rising again, frighteningly close to the house which is sandbagged in preparation for worse to come. Again we have no power. The kids are dispatched to higher ground at my Mums. I try not to think of the worst possible outcome - not getting down to London that afternoon and missing James. In the end the prospect of waking up in a cold flooded house with the empty feeling that we've missed a fantastic gig is dismissed in favour of seeing James and waking up in a nice warm, dry hotel room. We paddle across the driveway to the car in our wellies and set off.
By the time we reach London the sun is out and we watch the reports of flooded northern England on the news with a sense of disbelief. As ever I'm itching to get to the venue and I'm too excited to eat a thing. Once there we start bumping into the travelling James army, the familar faces are there, and we find Su and Zip in the queue. Once the doors are open we rush in and claim a spot so at the front we rest our drinks on the monitors. It is a shoebox of a venue, with a tiny stage. Tonight will be upclose and very personal.
Excitedly we spy a setlist taped to the floor and get to see that not only is Born Of Frustration being played tonight, but two new songs, Not So Strong and Traffic. The excitement reaches feverpitch when we spy a trumpet next to the drumkit. Could it be? Can it really be? Are we really going to get to hear Andy Diagram tonight? I'm starting to feel like Charlie in the chocolate factory. Excited and slightly overawed by possibilities.
After what feels like an eternity the band finally come on stage, beginning with Say Something, before Andy joins them onstage for Seven. It is magical hearing James with a trumpet playing again. We are blown away.
Play Dead sounds fantastic, and Larry's guitar is stunning. There are so many layers of gorgeous sound that culminate in the divine harmonies at the end. Tonight, I can tell is going to be an epic one. Some wags at the front who can also see the setlist start calling out for new songs "play Traffic!" and they do. It's raw and undeveloped but it sounds great. My world is coming down like the Berlin Wall around me, I'm abandoned to this incredible music thats moving my body from head to toe. Another 2007 song follows, Chameleon, which simply rocks.
Although I can see the setlist, I still feel disbelief when I hear Larry begin to play the intro to Born Of Frustration, augmented again at long last by Andy's trumpet. The crowd break into spontaneous whooping, before Tim lets rip and pure James heaven begins. I spy Mr G stood on a chair at the side of the room grinning away and dancing like mad. I dance myself into a frenzy too. That trumpet sounds divine. Chainmail follows, which has sounded epic this year. Those who know me know how much dancing means to me, and this song is a celebration of the body. Your hips move.... it gets inside your head.... Words fail me from this point, Chainmail is a song to loose yourself too. And that's precisely what I do....
I continue to be lost to Out To Get You another exercise in song perfection. It's fragile but powerful, tender but not cloying. I'll never tire of this song. Next, another new one, Not So Strong has me mesmerised. It is wonderful. Like Traffic, it's still raw and undeveloped, but has a core of stunning beauty. And from I hear the lyrics are a work of exquisite beauty. This band hit my soul like no other. They just make sense like no ones ever made sense before. "when you're willing to live and you've nothing to lose, that's when you've found your own faith" Perfect.
Upside Downside still sounds as astonishingly good as it did on the April tour, and Sometimes as ever is a frenzy of songwriting genius. I am in agreement with Brian Eno on that one. A brace of fantastically good classics follow, Getting Away With It and Ring The Bells, and with no (frankly pointless) encore break the beautiful pared down intro to She's A Star kicks in. Mr G moves down from his go-go dancing perch to brave the front and comes and stands behind me. I lean back against him and we move together in James heaven to the first verse of Star. I close my eyes drinking in the gorgeousness of it and when I open them I realise with some surprise that Tim has moved the mike in front of us and is singing the song at me. It was, a very lovely moment, and testament to the very special connection that James make with their audience.
My joy is continued by what follows, Gold Mother, to which I predictably dance like a loon to. Yet again, Larry and Andy make this song something else. Something very stunning indeed.
Laid is the icing on the cake. A fantastic, joyful end to a fantastically joyous night..... or so I thought....
Half an hour later I'm by the bar having a drink with the band. I am very, very glad I'm not keeping floodwatch at home.

The Manchester Weekend

Wake up on Saturday 28th April with a buzzing nervous excitement. I can't quite believe that I've waited months for this day and it's finally here. I try to chill out, we listen to James in the garden while sunbathing. I am ridiculously excited. In the end we give up and head off into Manchester early. Sitting in the sun outside Urbis it feels like mid summer not April, it's one of those divinely charmed days that you wish could go on forever. Forgoing the Wetherspoons meet up (Kate threatens me with possible death should she be seen in there) we meet up with some of the oneofthethree crowd at the MEN arena. Once inside I'm a bit daunted by the size of the venue. I hate big venues, I prefer more intimacy. We are at least only a few feet away from Jim, so that makes up for it. After the Twang (alright if you like that kinda thing) we wait for James. As you may be able to see from the lovely photo I was just a tad excited. The gig was of course amazing from the moment Come Home began. The marching band were of course ridiculously cheesey, but in a whimsical, bizarre typically random Jamesian way. This band are about throwing out the rulebook, and they do it in style. Tim departs into the crowd during Say Something and gets completely mobbed. People desperately try to reach him to rub his head as if he's some strange talismanic presence. Deities are shown less respect than the mighty Tim. The gig goes by in an ecstatic blur, it was an epic night. Post gig myself Su and Kate carry on partying, witness a tramp pissing himself in Kro Piccadilly, and end up in the hotel bar at the Jarvis hotel. I have seen more salubrious Salvation Army Hostels. Trying to find the loo brought back scary images from The Shining. Fortunately I was too pissed to care too much. Somehow we got home around 4am. I woke up in my bed alone, so I know I got home, I'm just not sure how.

When I do wake up, through the blur of a hangover and a mouth that feels like a cats arse I find that my feet are still dancing. Perhaps thats how I got home, I danced my way, so if you read reports of a deranged woman wandering around Heaton Chapel dancing and singing in the streets then that was me.

Monday, woke up at silly o clock to go to queue up outside HMV. Gave up waiting for the train, so got a taxi instead. Got covered in soot and ash from the towering inferno, but got the wristband. Wahey! TMA (Mike) then took us to the greasiest greasy spoon in Manchester. Fortunately we lived to tell the tale.

Went back to the flat and tried to sleep. Impossible as my feet continued to dance and Tim continued to sing in my head. It's hard to sleep when you're thinking about Tim.

At 3 o clock gave up waiting and went back into town to go back to HMV. Watch a cute little set (Including the so far neglected Fred Astaire!) and managed to get 'Chelle a prime spot at the front. Go Girl!
Queue up again for the signing, getting more and more nervous, but Lisa and I manage to hand over the t shirts to the band without making too much of a fool of ourselves. They are genuinely rather touched by it and Tim held my hand to say thankyou until I was dragged away by a bouncer, (Move along NOW please!)
Shaking like a leaf, jump into a taxi and head off to Oxford Road. Still shaking violently leap up and down whooping whilst telling my mate Kate about the signing.

Try to eat some food. Fail. Far too excited.

As a coda to the days theme we queue some more at the Academy. Then some more.

James come onstage and play the most magical performance EVER! It's a tiny litle venue, fantastically intimate and our queuing pays off by getting right to the front. The highlight of the evening is for me, Upside, a new song that's treated more like an old classic. Tim may need his lyric sheet, but the crowd sing the words back to him triumphantly. Tim grins away in possible disbelief at the scene of devotion in front of him. Watching this band play live is an act of pure joy, the ecstasy bounces back off the walls and infects everyone. Kate is converted to the indisputable fact that Tim is the most divinely beautiful man alive. Having seen him dance up close she is well and truly besotted now.
After the gig we stand around in disbelief for a while, stunned and awed by what we have witnessed. We head off back across the road for a drink, but myself and Su get itchy feet, maybe, just maybe.....

We find an open door at the back of the venue, and simply walk in. There in the bar in front of us are Jim and Larry, who we get to chat with. We buy Larry a beer and make him blush when we tell him what a legend he is!

4 hours sleep later and I'm on a train in Stockport. I meet Mr G in Nottingham, he hands me my daughter, we tearfully say goodbye (I have Upside Downside on repeat in my head) and he gets on the next train to London, so he can fly out of Heathrow to India in the afternoon.

I now have to face no more gigs and a month of single parenthood. I can see a big comedown approaching, but right now I am so truly full of joy from the last few days that for the moment I don't care.

Looking forward to getting some sleep though.....

Birmingham Academy 24 April 2007

Setlist : Come Home, Destiny Calling, Ring The Bells, Seven, Who Are You, Chameleon, Honest Joe, Really Hard, Out To Get You, She's A Star, Five-O, Upside Downside, Getting Away With It (All Messed Up), Say Something, Tomorrow, Sit Down, Hymn From A Village, Gold Mother, Laid and Sometimes

Imagine the scene. Three o clock in the afternoon in WH Smiths at Nottingham Station. Stood in the queue and over the radio a familiar intro blares out. My feet start twitching, my fingers start moving. It's Sit Down. The guy in the queue behind me starts singing along. I feel as though James fever is sweeping the nation. It's synchronicity, timing, coincidence, call it what you will. I take it as an omen that tonight will be a very good night indeed.

The train rattles it's way over the dull midlands countryside, never has it seemed so exciting. By the time I arrive at New Street Station I'm sucked into the busy throng my frenzy and anticipation building. It's happening, it's actually happening. Here we go again, Ladies and Gentlemen the show is just beginning...

We try to calm ourselves down in the Wetherspoons around the corner and I force myself to eat something. A few pints later at 8.30 we realise we really ought to go to the venue, having decided to leave The Twang for tonight. Inside it's packed, and I'm not one for standing at the back. With a determined shimmy and an air of intent I edge through the crowds till astonishingly I find myself 2 rows from the front, right in front of where Larry will be standing. As I wait it gets hotter and hotter, this is truly a cauldron of a venue. When the lights go down and the siren keyboards of Come Home begin, the crowd erupts. The guy next to me 3/4 of a pint looks at his glass worriedly. Whoosh, half gone. Whoosh, all gone. The packed crowd are transformed instantly into one hot, sweaty collective organism. If you'd asked me pre-tour which song I'd have liked them to come onstage with, I would have probably told you that Come Home was a bit of a cheesy choice. It wasn't. It sounded dynamic and fresh. It sounded bloody good.
Ring The Bells and Destiny Calling follow, but for me though the set really gets going with Who Are You. It gets me dancing with it's crazy riff, and I probably started to annoy those around me. Sorry, but how can you stand still to something as infectious as that? Same goes for Chameleon, ridiculously catchy, I was still singing it as I staggered across Birmingham later after the inevitable post-gig drinks. I was still singing it when I woke up. And as I waited for the train. Honest Joe continues my dancing theme. I loved hearing it, and my dance induced trance means that any objectivity as to how good it sounded are completely out the window. Out To Get You builds magically, Larry, Saul and Tim bouncing off each other as the song builds at the end. This was true James magic, Larry is a legend and it is truly great to have him back.

The slowed down She's A Star sounds beautiful to me. It catches some of the crowd out who want an anthemic singalong, but then this is not about historical James and they need to take the risks to keep things fresh. Five-0 is always a great song and provides a slightly slower pace for a bit which is welcome to those of us at the front who are now soaked with sweat from head to toe. Of course as it builds in it's glorious way that doesn't last long and I am dancing away again. At this point a special mention should be made to Johnny Yen, who kept passing me glasses of water. Without him, I probably would have collapsed in a heap at some point and ended up being passed over the barrier to be revived. Not a good look.

Next song, Upside Downside was completely new to me having missed out on the Nambucca gig. It is a song that has something about it. It sounded great. I want an album full of new material as good as this song frankly, and if it means I have to lock the boys in a studio until it's finished then that's fine by me.

Getting Away With It gets the whole crowd heaving again, then Tim embarks on his audience foray for Say Something. Luckily for me, he chooses to balance on the barrier right in front of me. When he asks us to hold on to him, what's a girl to do? Answer: hold onto his leg and not let go. To be honest, I have no idea what the song sounded like at all, but from where I was standing underneath Tim it seemed good.

Predictably, the highlight of the set for me was Gold Mother. Reader, I swayed my hips and danced till there was no return. On record I have to admit it always sounded a bit flat, but live it takes on a flowing, improvised quality. And boy, can you sway your hips to it. Sometimes and Laid close the set with a frenzy, the crowd going beserk in that joyful abandon that James provoke in their audience. And then they're gone. I stand exhausted and delirious. The heat of the venue has very nearly killed me, and looking around it looks as if we've all taken a communal shower with our clothes on. This wasn't the most exciting setlist they could have played, but hey, James are back onstage, and playing with a passion again. If this is the future, then it's looking good.

One down, three to go.

This Is Our Destiny Calling........

No poetry today, no purple prose is necessary. It is a little over 9000 minutes till I get to see James on stage in Birmingham. Or approximately 150 hours. Or 6 sleeps. A few days later I will be seeing them again in Manchester for the greatest home-coming ever.

The waiting is nearly over. From receiving an email in Goa in January telling me of this crazy news, to booking my tickets online in an internet cafe under palm trees, the surreal nature of my surroundings adding to the sense of unreality that this was actually happening. A crazy trip down to London for the Hoxton gig and now the finishing line is in sight.

Bring it on. I cannot wait.

The Gap Between Crack And Thunder Is Closing In....

'Sometimes' is an amazing song, a moment of songwriting genius. I love the song live in it's guitar soaked frenzy racing away, the crowd carried away by it's wave of euphoric possibility. Equally I love the version Tim Booth sang at Glastonbury in 2004 with The Individuals. Stripped down to the bare bones of vocals, sax and piano, the song is vulnerable and haunting. My skin tingles every time I hear it. Apparently when Brian Eno heard it for the first time he declared that it was the highlight of his musical life. It's that kind of song.

When I heard 'Sometimes' for the first time as a teenager I was intrigued by the peculiar poetry of the lyrics. These strangely beautiful and yet violent images in a song that sounded so joyous and celebratory had an oddly unsettling and discordant effect. This sense of something extraordinary being around the corner, standing in the rain, making choices no matter what the consequences. It's really brave and powerful. I'm always totally blown away and wrung out to dry by Tim Booth's lyrics, but this one has a special power of it's own.

One of my favourite lines has to be the one I've stolen for the title of this blog. It has an unworldliness to it that hints at all kinds of possibilities. The gap between crack and thunder is a moment frozen in time. A split second of indeterminate length, the frame has been briefly stopped and you choose where the next step takes you. For me it's a moment that allows the gaps between worlds to shift and the magic to escape. The moment the Shaman moves and weaves his spell. That one man can see a rainbow, the other only endless rain. That death can be a choice, a positive act, that sometimes being delivered on to the next round isn't always a bad thing. That a soul is a tangible thing to be touched and held. That a storm can bring good in it's havoc and that waiting for the storm to break is an act of defiance as much as an act of cowardice.

I tend to see the world in the four new colours rather than the endless grey. To me magic and mystery are woven into the fabric of our existence. I believe in the multiple rather than the singular, I don't believe in fixed outcomes. This song is about choices, about being tiny in the face of such enormity, the fishing boats being spewed onto the shore and the buses stripped to chrome, and yet still being able to remain human. To make the choices that make us human and to still see our souls. To always look for the spark that lies inside our eyes.

In The Beginning There Was Sound....Or How James Changed A Girl's Life Twice

A girl sits in her bedroom, listening to the radio. Out of the usual slush of indie suspects she hears something new, something fresh that stops her in her tracks. She sits still on the edge of her bed as if Moses has just appeared from the behind the burning bush. Her heart is in her mouth as she listens intently. There are great guitars and an amazing keyboard riff, but it's the voice that does it. Something touches her inside and it won't go away.

Over the coming months she greedily reads everything she can in the music press about her new find. They're called James, the voice is a guy called Tim Booth. When she hears them playing on the radio she'll tape it and soon she has a collection of their songs, and she loves it all. Hard earned cash goes on her prized possession, a red t shirt that reads 'come' on the front and 'home' on the back. Nobody gets it but she doesn't care. She's found her tribe.

Months pass and an obssession grows. They re-release Sit Down which goes stellar so at least people get the t shirt now. A tour is announced, and begrudgingly two parents give permission for their firstborn child to see her favourite band play live for the first time. The gig is amazing, despite being in the appalling Nottingham Royal Concert Hall, a venue more suited to piano concertos, than an electrifying rock and roll performance. It's a very long time ago now, but she still remembers a hurricane of images; the front row seat, the stage invasion, Tim scaling the audience and the balconies. And the music, a strange melee of what would become the Seven album, parts of the previous Goldmother album and stranger jangly folky stuff from further back. All these instruments, all this sound. She is transfixed.

Time begins to speed up, the girl becomes less of a girl. Seven is released, she makes it to the Alton Towers gig thanks to a guy in the sixth form who's a James fan and has a car. Then comes Laid and another tour. Wah Wah is released and then what? The trail goes quiet. For our heroine, girlhood becomes a distant memory, as she escapes the numbing tyranny of smalltownsville and goes on wonderful adventures, living in Morocco, finding her soulmate. At long last living outside the frame and finding a world out there that is just as thrilling as it always promised to be. She discovers a sub-continent, India, and her escape route, once limited to music becomes a blaring technicolour world. University and all sorts of new things are thrown into the mix. James are still there, but in their absence the place in her heart as been filled with so many more things. Her attention is focused every which way, the world has so much to give her.

Time speeds away from her now into the 21st century, passing quicker than she realises. She gives birth to a son and then a daughter. Amazing, joyful events, but nonetheless she becomes more and more disconnected from the girl inside her. Joy does not dwell in her heart the way it once did. She becomes stretched - her body, her soul, her dreams no longer feel like her own. Circumstance has led her back to Nottingham, but a nice village, a good place to bring up children. Boden conformity beckons, and it is so easy to fall in, to close her eyes and let it all wash over her. Then, one day, alone in the house, she plays a CD, her old Best Of James and the tears begin to fall, like proverbial scales from her eyes. She feels a connection running like an electrical charge to this music, these words. The sounds she is hearing shine like a light on her soul and she ceases to sleep. She picks up a pen and begins to write. Suddenly for the first time in a long time everything begins to make some kind of sense to her.