MILLIONAIRES REVIEWS 2

No Lifelines Left by Daniel Booth, Melody Maker 10.99

DON'T look surprised, of course they haven't gone away. They'll never go away now. 

James have outlived their Greatest Hits phase, which is something of a shock, but not as big a shock as James reaching that phase in the first place. Besides always being a bit twatty, the Grand Dickheads of pop, they've never actually written more than two types of song; the funereal ballads and the swoon-along anthems.

Sadly, inevitably, it's the emaciated torchsongs that ruin "Millionaires". "Surprise" was written about a suicidal friend of Tim's, which is ironic because its ponderous dirge almost led me to the razorblades and a freshly run bath. During the yawn-drones "Strangers" and "Vervaceous", I had to struggle to stop my Walkman spitting out the batteries. At the end of the latter, Sinead O'Connor gurgles in, though for all the reverence afforded her usually stunning voice, it might as well have been Molly Sugden.

Things do improve when James move into the darling-did-you-remember-my-lighter territory of "We're Going To Miss You" and "Shooting My Mouth Off", and the shuffling jerk-pop of "Crash", but it's all undermined by Tim's never- more-shite lyrics. Resilient in his pitiful task of rewriting Aesop's Fables in the language of Mystic Meg, Tim gels really profound on our long-suffering ass on "Afro Lover": 'The land between the trenches was patrolled by the deaf and the blind / The blind were shouting, 'Listen' / While the deaf said can't you see?' Throughout "Strangers" he mewls, "This is not the end" though you know it's just prefacing a tediously predictable twist. And, as sure as dogshit smells, it arrives. .."This is the end': So lazy, so inane, as poignant as a bucket of custard. Tim has been called "enigmatic" so many times that he believes his cliche-saturated psychowibble means something. He can no sooner examine the complexity of human existence than a squirrel can lift a tractor (You should see the f***ing squirrels round where I live, Booth. Bite your head off, man - Ed).

That said, Tim could be the new TS Eliot and it wouldn't save "I Know What I'm Here For" from being an ungracious composite of old singles "Come Home", "How Was It For You?" and "Lose Control". The other single, "Just Like Fred Astaire", is equally poor - a not-on-the-first-date cuddle, rather than the gleeful shag'n'tickle of "Laid" (and, ha ha, the real reason Tim feels like Fred Astaire is not because love bunnies are hopping around his heart, but because he looks like Fred Astaire).

So, ahem, who wants to be a millionaire? Possibly Ye Olde fans nostalgic for the days when they sat down to "Sit Down" in student discos, and who now visit Wembley Arena so often their eyes have evolved telescopic lenses. But no 16-year- old, surrounded by posters of Kelly, Richey and Robbie, will care what James are here for. Is this album a) Complete arse, b) Not that bad really, c) Pretty good, or d) F*'"*ing fantastic? Trust me, you won't need to phone a friend.

It's Life Jim - Dave Simpson, The Guardian 10.99 5/5

Last week the nation voted Sit Down their eighth favourite lyric of all time. A fine achievement, but in a mythical chart of the most bizarrely memorable gigs ever, James at Leeds Astoria in 1985 would surely come closer to topping it. It wasn't so much a gig as a Sam Peckinpah-directed Wild West brawl. Sections of the audience took exception to the band. Tempers flared, chairs flew, tables were wrenched from their fittings, a pint pot hit the promoter full in the face, and miraculously nobody ended the night in a wooden box. But most amazingly the band played on. They even managed to play on as drummer Gavan Whelan held his bass drum two feet above his head and shrieked at the audience "Come on you bastards"

This sort of Dunkirk spirit has served James well as their "career" has veered between triumph and catastrophe. Key members have left (inevitably Whelan first); record companies have refused to let them make records; Tim Booth has been put in a neck brace by his hyperactive dancing. and the band have emerged from the wreckage of styles from bedsit angst to Madchester to Credible (ish ) Stadium. Why, they've even overcome the Love of Morrissey, a potentially crippling disease which has done for everyone from Gene to Raymonde.

What these Manchester sons have lacked is a killer album; 1998's million-selling Best Of took care of that commercially, but prompted by the fact that the Verve are no more and Oasis are imploding, James have come up with an album that bids for the heavyweight crown of British rock.

Millionaires is not a "Thank you, now we're rich, sod off" gesture, but an adventure laced with matters transcendental. The subject is not just "Millionaires, us?" but "What has value anyway?" In many senses the album shares themes with Lou Reed's Magic And Loss. There are lots of "this is the end"s, several "when you're gone"s; there's also an unmistakeable sense of time running out (is it coincidence that Booth, 17 years Reed's junior, has a history of medical problems?). But where Magic.. was instilled with dread, Millionaires is positively pop and life-affirming. In I Know What I'm Here For, it's as if they've taken the Mancunian forefather Ian Curtis' query "Existence, well what does it matter?" and replied "Everything while you're here." The tracks bleed love, life and detail. It's impossible to imagine the James of a few years ago (Laid period, say) penning something as peculiarly moving as Strangers, seemingly a hospital deathbed anthem. Crash is jaggedly anthemic; better still is We're Going To Miss You, possibly a sneer at those who have dismissed them, which soars into the kind of helium heavenly chorus that characterised Eno's 1970 vocal albums.

Eno (back for the first time since 1993's Laid) is one of two unsung stars here. His pared-down intimate production perfectly amplifies the power of the ascetic Booth's lyrics. Equally guitarist (since 1989) Saul Davies, who took on the songwriting mantle last year, has conjured up the gravitas of REM and U2, whose airy chimes are fleetingly recalled on Shooting My Mouth Off. Every play opens up another delight. Even the self-consciously funky Afro Lover, which initially seems to disjoint the album, eventually serves as a diverting interlude between darker, more scarring tracks.

The rock world should sit up and take notice. Eighteen years into their lifetime, James are setting the standard.

The Manc Of England by Nigel Williamson, Uncut 4/5

 "I Know What I'm Here For" Tim Booth sings on the new James album. Encouraging news indeed as last year's renaissance around the million-selling Best Of didn't really provide any answers at all. Sure, it restored the band's confidence and they played some staggeringly good live shows on the strength of it.  Then they tried to cash in on it with a recycled version of "Sit Down" and you wondered whether they were going anywhere except backwards. But James never progressed in linear fashion. From Madchester indie heroes to stadium rockers to mature elder statesmen of pop, ever since they formed in the dark Thatcherite days of 1983, they have always seemed to be on the verge of disintergrating.

Then they pull it back and each new album is hailed as a miraculous regeneration. It must be emotionally exhausting, but at least they have seldom stood still, even if it isn't clear where they're going. Then again, when you can write great three-minute pop songs with such uplifting hooks as easily as it comes to James, perhaps you don't need a purpose.

Listening again to the Best Of collection, you suddenly realise that although they have always masqueraded as a serious album band, what they have really been all along is a cracking singles outfit, with something like 18 Top 40 hits at the last count. Millionaires will add to the tally, even though they will be disappointed by the lacklustre chart performance of the first single "I Know What I'm Here For". With Eno assisting with the production duties for the first time since 1993's Laid, the album represents forward momentum regained, in part due to the edgy tension between the rest of the band and the idiosyncratic Booth, an ascetic yoga-practising loner surrounded by a bunch of substance-loving party-going hedonists.

The dark and slightly sinister "Surprise" was written about a friend of the singer who was on the verge of suicide although its opening lines "So you thought we were over / Surprise, surprise, we're not going anywhere" suggest it could equally apply to the band and those who wrote them off. "Fred Astaire", which ran into trouble with the dancing one's estate, is the album's big love song, while the bouncy "Afro Lover" has a contrastingly intense war-torn lyric about guns and missiles that Dolores O'Riordan would have loved to have written.

Things begin to get really strange on "If Anybody Hurts You" which Booth describes as a "spell". He wrote it to deflect a curse (no, really) which is why it opens with him paranoically chanting "This is not a song, this is a shield" before moving into a big production "Singing we're going to miss you when you've gone" football chorus. It's bizarre, paradoxical and totally magnificent.

In fact, this is an album on which nothing is quite what it seems. "Strangers" starts with a doom-laden "Knocking On Heavens Door" riff before taking some unexpected and intriguing melodic twists, and "Someone's Got It In For Me", featuring Faithless' Jamie Catto, begins as an exercise in lo-fi but is soon fooling us all with a typically expansive chorus. Then, in addition to more tightly structured potential singles, there are those songs that clearly started life as jams, a traditional James way of working, best typified by "Hello" and "Vervaceous" which features Sinead O'Connor on some haunting vocals. It's a strange, unpredictable and at times perplexing record. Which is why it might just be the best album James have ever made.

FHM - November 1999 4/5

In the boom of the Madchester scene there were two bands who could pack them in at the infamous Hacienda club - the Happy Mondays (now sadly peddling out half-arsed Thin Lizzy tunes) and dorky little indie band James, who have actually improved with age. Not as morose as Laid or as electric as Whiplash, Millionaires is a more straightforward pop album harking back to James glory days of 1991 when spotty, floppy-haired fans all "sat down" at concerts. Stuffed with foot stompers like Crash, Shooting My Mouth Off and the single I Know What I'm Here For - the album's finer moments are the laid-back tracks - We're Going To Miss You and Just Like Fred Astaire.

Music Week - October 2nd 1999 (ALBUM OF THE WEEK)

After the double-platinum success of their surprise chart-topping Best Of collection, James return in a confident mood with the lush sounding Millionaires. Co-produced by Brian Eno, the album boasts many different styles from the catchy pop of I Know What I'm Here For to the anthemic We're Going To Miss You to the darker Someone's Got It In For Me. With the next single Just Like Fred Astaire making a strong showing at radio, this album should become one of their biggest sellers.

Heat - October 14th 1999, 4/5 by Martin Aston

In a nutshell : James couldn't sustain their arena-level fame but 1998's Best Of was a surprise Number One (their first). Here, guided by producer Brian Eno, can they sustain momentum?

What's it like? : People like James singles so they've made an album dominated by killers choruses: opening rally Crash, a swaying We're Going To Miss You, percolating Afro Lover and Just Like Fred Astaire plus two superb ballads (Strangers, Hello) and archetypal anthemic finale (Vervaceous). Minus points for over fussy arrangements but Millionaires is never dull.

How many good tracks? : Nine, out of 12.

Best track : Just Like Fred Astaire, their best single in eons

Best line : "Doctor, what is happening to me? / Palpitations, my mind's diseased / Even my vision is impaired / I'm losing my hair" (Just Like Fred Astaire)

Verdict : If Millionaires isn't a self-fulfilling prophecy, James might as well retire

Time Out by Peter Paphides - 6 October 1999

Who said irony was dead? Here come James and they've called their album "Millionaires" because they're apparently a bit strapped and a little wishful thinking couldn't do any harm. Which, of course begs the question : WHAT DID YOU DO WITH ALL THE MONEY YOU MADE FROM 'SIT DOWN'? HAVE YOU LOOKED UNDER THE BED?

Except that we're here to judge James music, not their expenditure, man. And Millionaires meets all the criteria a reasonable man could lay down for a great album. Thanks to Brian Eno's return on production, they've rediscovered the edge that made Laid such a corker. 'Someone's Got It In For Me' sums up the mood here, a meditation on adversity that manages to snatch a redemptive orchestral crescendo from the jaws of misery. 'Strangers' is better still, a beautifully paced hymn, which probably wouldn't mind you calling it another 'Sit Down'. And then there's the stuff you're already hearing on the radio: 'Just Like Fred Astaire' and the fabulously embittered 'We're Going To Miss You.' Both possess hooks so huge you could pull down the Eiffel Tower with them.

All of which frogmarches us mercilessly to a single unavoidable conclusion. If James don't become millionaires this time around, they might want to have a word with their singer about that fucking awful cowboy hat.

Sunday Mirror 10 October 1999 - 8/10

Another formulaic slice of sensitive indie rock that should keep their bank balance ticking over.

Times / Metro 9 October 1999 - 7/10

Like the proverbial cat, James are the band with nine lives. Throughout their career they have continually seemed to be falling apart - then they dig deep into their reserves and come bouncing back - with renewed vigour. After 15 years in the business, 1998's greatest hits compilation was the band's biggest seller and so Millionaires comes with high expectations. Their forte has always been the great three-minute pop songs with uplifting hooks and there are plenty here, notably Just Like Fred Astaire and I Know What I'm Here For. But with Eno helping with production for the first time since Laid, Tim Booth, who grows ever more eccentric, explores darker territory on the sinister Surprise. With help from Sinead O'Connor, the comeback kings have done it again.

Independent On Sunday 10 October 1999

After 1993's Laid, James momentum was disipated by experimental detours and side projects, accountancy mishaps and resignations until it looked like a band who once seemed set to rule the decade would be remembered instead for nothing more than some flowery t-shirts and a song about sitting down. It was only when last year's Best of compilation went double platinum that a reinvigorated James realised they had another shot at the title. Amazingly they haven't wasted it. Millionaires had big ambitions, a bigger heart and choruses that are bigger still. It bounds to life with Crash, a spiralling anthem custom-built to shouted along to by a stadium full of revellers. Track three, I Know What I'm Here For, is another weighty but nimble singalong. And in between is Just Like Fred Astaire, a towering bravely romantic devotional worthy of its titular hero. "I believe in happiness / I believe in love" sings Tim Booth and his clearly enunciated anti-cynicism illuminates the whole record.

Someone's Got It In For Me is a satire on grunge martyrs, but it retains compassion for its self-pitying narrator, "another victim selling suffering". And Strangers, an aching country campfire ballad is the most straightforwardly caring pop song since Everybody Hurts by REM, the band against whom James measure themselves.

If Millionaires sometimes approaches polished eighties pomp rock, Brian Eno's quirky production usually steers it down more interesting paths just in time, and the anthems are balanced by quieter moodier songs on which Booth could be singing to himself late at night. A year and a half after the Best Of James, they're releasing Best Of, Volume Two.

Maxim - November 1999 4/5

James? All hippy shit and veggie breath, aren't they? Afraid not. This is glorious good-time music on a grand scale. From the barmily romantic 'Just Like Fred Astaire' to the anthemic 'We're Going To Miss You', this is indulgent, swaggering and even survives Sinead O'Connor on 'Vervaceous'. Sure, there's the love and peace bit, but this will get you dancing.

Scot On Sun 10 October 1999, 5/5

Confession time. I really thought James had passed their creative peak and could not possibly have this career best record in them. Having made the transition from pasty indie vegans, heavy on the quirky side of pop, to arena rockers, it seemed their fate was to endlessly regurgitate 'Sit Down'.

So when the opening 'Crash' shimmies about the place under a supremely confident Tim Booth vocal, it is time to sit up and pay attention.

The single 'Just Like Fred Astaire' is a practically perfect pop moment, but the entire collection impresses with subtle but substantial variations on the mainstream.

James have much more musical baggage than the New Radicals, but have managed to make a record of similarly unfettered zest, guided by the conviction of a group who know exactly what they want to do executing it with some style.

Their experience makes for joyous rather than jaded, the control exhibited on the simmering song 'Surprise' proving to be exactly that.

Paranoia is almost rendered precious and personal by the very splendid 'Someone's Got It In For Me', the penultimate track on a record which is not so much the last gasp of an Indian summer as a satisfying spring.

Independent Information 9 October 1999 - 4/5

Buoyed by the success of  1998's Greatest Hits album and tour, James have delivered their most complete album to date. It's an upbeat collection, ranging in style from the New Order twiddles of 'Shooting My Mouth Off' through worldbeat to the rustic charm of 'Strangers'.

James Latest Is One In A Million - Daily Mail 8 October 1999 - 5/5

Millionaires, James tenth album, ranks alongside 1993's Laid as one of their finest. It strikes a winning balance between inventiveness and accessibility.

The band's familiar signature - sharp riffs and cascading backing vocals - is evident on the upbeat songs and the album also features some excellent ballads, with Just Like Fred Astaire among the best. A darker side emerges with We're Going To Miss You and Vervaceous featuring a guest vocal from Sinead O'Connor.

Lead singer Tim Booth's sensitive powerful singing and multi-instrumentalist Saul Davies' adventurous instincts combine to give Millionaires a confident majesty which few British bands can match.

What's On 13th October 1999

James are a band who have always seemed to exist on the point of implosion. For every success - the era-defining Sit Down of last year's chart topping greatest hits collection - there's been a half-arsed album and personal upheaval. The one constant, of course, has been vocalist and spokesman Tim Booth. His voice - a mixture of rousing holler and fragile quivver - has so often rescued what might otherwise have been an ordinary song. For Millionaires, he's again belting out the sort of choruses you normally hear behind a goalmouth on a Saturday afternoon - check the recent 'I Know What I'm Here For'. They've been written off far more times than they'd care to remember, but, once again, James are about to make a glorious comeback. As the saying goes, they've never really been away.

Nineteen, November 1999, 4/5

Produced by the legendary Brian Eno and James, this was sure to be a winner. Some rockin' guitar tunes with a Nineties twist, including the brilliant I Know What I'm Here For. One of the most consistently top-class bands who ever sat down.

Mojo November 1999

Singer Tim Booth says he got laid when James made Laid, he got whiplash when they made Whiplash - so they called this one Millionaires. Following their Best Of's restorative success last year, it might just work. Sometimes James' hit tracks have felt as lonely as Kevin Keegan's strikers, but here the singles - positivity paean I Know What I'm Here For, boyish romance Just Like Fred Astaire - have plenty of support. Apart from the massed choir choruses - We're Going To Miss You - the best of them - strength and depth is sustained by the restrained Strangers, angry Surprise (friends tell a potential suicide not to do it) and ethereal Vervaceous (Sinead O'Connor in fairy robot mode). It would take a team of experts to detect that Eno co-produced Millionaires, which is ample evidence of James weird unity.