JAMES : WEMBLEY ARENA 10.12.01 reviews page 4

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by David Cheal, Daily Telegraph

THE departure of Tim Booth from his position as lead singer with James has not exactly shaken the pop world to its foundations. The Manchester-based band have been together for nearly 20 years and although they have won a sizeable following in that time, and have gained a reputation as one of the festival circuit's most reliably entertaining acts, I suspect that the nation is not lying awake at night wondering how they will cope without Booth.

Nevertheless, what was impressive about this show (the final date on their UK tour, and therefore Booth's last ever appearance with James) was the affection and esteem in which Booth is clearly held by the band's fans: by the end of the night I even noticed the beginnings of a lump in my throat as the crowd clapped and thumped and sang the praises of this wiry, wired performer.

The night was also notable for a live appearance by Brian Eno, who, during a long association with the band, has produced several albums for them; he joined them on stage for a couple of numbers singing backing vocals. Live appearances by Eno are vanishingly rare - I last saw him with Roxy Music in (I think) 1973 - and here he behaved like a man who has suddenly found a new purpose in life, dancing in tight, twitchy little steps and singing the chorus to the hypnotic Sometimes with gusto. It was not what you'd expect from such a notoriously studio-bound creature - has a frustrated rock'n'roll frontman been lurking behind that benign countenance for nearly 30 years?

The show itself was pretty much what we've come to expect from James: lots of warm, melodic, churning epics, but also a couple of googlies tossed in to confound the punters (the crowd seemed bemused by the almost unlistenably frantic God Only Knows), followed by a final chance to sing along to Sit Down, the band's anthem, which sparked off massed cavorting in the ranks.

Then, finally, it was farewell, and the noise was thunderous. Booth, who says his decision to quit was "intuitive", is planning to pursue various creative projects, including music. I hope he relished his moment of glory, because it's hard to imagine that he will ever again be feted so lustily by so many.

by James Berry, Crud Magazine

It is a cliché, though when they've spent near on two decades skirting around them, or wriggling clean from their restraints with glittery snake-hips at any rate, it's an allowance you'd expect as they make their final stand. But there really isn't a single dry eye in this house tonight. For a man who's made a career from dancing across imaginary minefields, Tim Booth - for it is he that's leaving and he on whom our eyes are undoubtedly focused, as far as they can be - looks like he's actually found himself in an emotional no man's land for probably the first time.

With legions of elated unsuppressed fanatics before him and generations of band line-up around him, having just finished a burgeoning run through arguably and aptly the best version of commercial signature tune 'Sit Down' they've ever committed to a stage (slight tinkering audience-supported verse, pounding live chorus, stimulating climax - undoubtedly still a cracking song) he looks almost lost, drifting gracefully through every one of those final gig clichés.

Of course, it would have been easy for this final curtain call to melt amongst the mutterings of non-existent album sales, lost record deals, below capacity gigs and as a sum of all that, or maybe on top of it, the feeling that James' peak, relevance and even reverence, was now nothing more than a fading speck confined to their background. But if this has to be a wake then everyone'll be draped uniformly in trademark flower t-shirts, sat in regulation cross-legged salute, beaming with thoughts hooked only to the highest times. As accomplished as the last album 'Pleased To Meet You' was then, a consistent vintage return to form after the bitty 'Millionaires', for the occasion (save for a sturdy 'English Beefcake' and so so 'Getting Away With It') they choose wisely to ignore it. A memorable two-hour, 20 song best-of set, only made all the more worthy by the fact that they still miss half your favourites (no 'Say Something', no 'Fred Astaire', no 'How Was It For You'!?), assures you can leave with only the right dynamite and decidedly off-kilter lasting impression that they surely deserve.

Because although these tunes may not stand comparatively alongside many of today's scene-led trends, not only do they as a band seem like the last of a kind (I mean, who else is there that embodies their huge, sprawling, group-embodied, visibly heart-felt ambitions? Gomez maybe?), but the songs breath with individuality, more often than not beating a path to your raptured attention. 'Sometimes' remains the most beautiful storm, 'Sound' ruptures inspiringly from delicate to distinct and damning and 'Come Home' reminds of a time when they did skim closer to a scene, rumbling with colourful baggy delight. Harking back to an era when they were still eccentric electric folkies with Manchester blood running through their veins, the furious impassioned preaching of 'God Only Knows', the virtuoso build of powerfully stark 'Johnny Yen' and the stripped down acoustic 'Protect Me' see a couple more bald associates adding to the occasion.

Ex-guitarist Larry Gott (Tim: "When you leave James you lose your hair" ) and legendary producer and Mr Roxy Music, Brian Eno (dances like your dad), strike a chord with the audience, Larry especially, and at least give it more of a party feel. But tonight is all about Tim Booth. The way he howls vocal aerobics across the likes of 'She's A Star', 'Hymn From A Village' and a divine 'Top Of The World' (performed from the back of the arena).