The 1985 Project Part 25: The Jesus and Mary Chain - Psychocandy

It's interesting how the way you remember music is different than how it sometimes sounds after a long break

“What will this band do when, as is inevitable, they learn to play their instruments?” I always think of this question posed by my boss at the record store back in 1985 whenever I think of the Jesus and Mary Chain. A quick sampling of 2024’s album Glasgow Eyes reminds me that ultimately, they would become boring. But it’s not as though we didn’t have some fun listening to them along the way.

Psychocandy is an album that broke all the rules for making rock music in 1985, but which enticed me precisely because it recalled a number of lessons from the past. Three chords, simple melodies, nods to Hal Blaine’s “Be My Baby” drum introduction, and the obvious influence of the Beach Boys and Ramones was enough to pique my interest. At the same time, Jim and William Reid removed all elements of emotional conviction from recordings, replacing it with a monotone vocal approach and an enormously loud and chaotic reliance on feedback guitar. (Technically, I think it wasn’t feedback as much as an effects pedal that made it virtually impossible to determine what notes were being played.) It was primitive sounding, but somehow it seemed to point to a future.

Well, damned if that future didn’t turn out to be shoegaze, one of the least interesting musical trends I’ve ever heard. Back in 1990, I reviewed a live concert by the J&M Chain and came to this conclusion: “The Jesus and Mary Chain was not there to entertain us, and certainly not to involve us in the music. The band was making its own noise and ignoring the audience as much as possible. The only reaction possible was to ignore the band.”

But that was in the future. In 1985, I only had this album to go by, and I liked it without loving it. I know I played it fairly often, but forty years later, I can only distinctly remember “Just Like Honey,” the opening track which set the tone for everything they did on the rest of the record. It opens with that “Be My Baby” drum pattern, albeit played without syncopation or drama. Soon, the bass plays one repeated note directly on the beats, and eventually the guitar comes in with a fairly elegantly toned arpeggio. As the chords change, the bass starts gliding to the new root note and ties to the bass drum pattern. Jim Reid starts singing about a girl and her beehive. He invests this song with a hint of ache borrowed from Shangri-Las backing vocals, though it doesn’t relate to the lyrics much. The guitar gets louder, and rings out on individual notes and chords. There’s a female vocal hugging Jim’s voice on the constantly repeated “Just Like Honey” lines at the end.

Wait! I said this sets the tone for the rest of the record. Where’s the feedback? It’s not on this track, and yet somehow it’s implied. The rest of the record puts it front and center over and over again, and the vocals become secondary figures to the overall sound of the band. There is a primitive energy which can’t be denied. By the end of fourteen songs, though, I’m worn out from wrestling with something that feels so detached. I thought I would be happier to revisit this record after all these years, but I think it works better one or two tracks at a time than the enervation achieved by the cumulative effect. Although it does kind of make me wonder if the compilation 21 Singles would make me feel better or worse.

The feedback would be minimized in the future. The songs would add chords. The bass player and drummer would be replaced by technically better musicians. Jim Reid would start worrying more about what he was doing as a singer. I don’t think I ever listened to a J&M Chain album more than once after 1990’s Automatic entranced me considerably. But the band would keep on keeping on, becoming a legacy act.

I’m giving this one a 6 out of 10 points.