James still conjuring magic after 42 years
Aberdeen witnessed a rare phenomenon last weekend: a band, decades deep, not merely surviving, but thriving. James, the Manchester-born outfit that carved its own idiosyncratic path through the British Music scene, delivered a performance at P&J Live that defied expectations and reaffirmed their status as something truly special. Forget nostalgia acts; this is a band actively inventing their future.

Booth’s calculated retreat, a tactical maneuver
Frontman Tim Booth, ever the observant ringmaster, has become something of a savant at reading a crowd. He chuckled about adjusting his stage presence, acknowledging, “I think our audience has got to an age where they don’t want me to dive in.” While younger fans certainly populate their colossal fanbase – a testament to their enduring appeal – Booth’s candor reveals a keen awareness of the evolving dynamic. But what appeared to be a measured restraint was, in the end, a calculated tease.
Formed initially as a Smiths’ support act and later rising to Madchester prominence, James has consistently eschewed predictable career trajectories. Booth’s description of them as “this crazy, idiosyncratic band who improvise, change the set list every night and play new songs which don’t have finished lyrics” isn’t mere self-deprecation; it's an accurate assessment of their restless creativity. The eight-minute Nantucket, with its wordless chorus and electro/violin-driven pulse, is a prime example – a nascent hit already echoing with the band’s signature sound.
What sets James apart from their arena-rock contemporaries is their refusal to simply cycle through the greatest hits. The two-hour, 21-song set showcased a breadth of material, from long, moody passages to deep cuts from lesser-known albums. Influences ranging from Brian Eno to Italian house Music weave seamlessly into their sound, punctuated by lyrical jabs at billionaires and religion—all unified by an overarching warmth and palpable humanity.
The set opened with Come Home, a subtle nod to Booth’s Leeds origins. Trumpeter Andy Diagram sported a powerful “No more war” T-shirt, and a particularly poignant moment saw Booth clasping the hand of a fan during the performance. The band’s dynamism is fueled by powerhouse drummer David Baynton-Power, while recent additions Chloe Alper and Debbie Knox-Hewson contribute fresh textures to their already rich sonic tapestry. Booth, the band’s talismanic figure at 66, remains the guiding force, emerging unexpectedly on the balcony during Born of Frustration and delivering a sublime rendition of Say Something—a shared, almost transcendent experience.
Getting Away With It (All Messed Up) and Sit Down predictably ignited arena-sized singalongs. And when Booth, contradicting his earlier pronouncements, plunged headfirst from the stage, he was lifted aloft on a tide of hands—a visual manifestation of the connection between band and audience. The sheer joy and energy emanating from the crowd was undeniable.
James isn't just a band; it’s a living, breathing entity, constantly evolving while retaining the essence of what made them remarkable in the first place. Their continued relevance is a testament to their artistic integrity and their ability to connect with audiences on a profoundly human level.