Sit Down EP

SIT DOWN - THREE SONGS BY JAMES EP

12" JIM3T - Chain Mail / Uprising / Hup-Springs

RELEASE DATE : MARCH 1986

CHART POSITION : -

EXPECT TO PAY : 7" £5-10, 12" £10-20

Signing to Sire in the winter of 1985, the band went into Liverpool's Amazon Studios to record their debut LP Stutter. The first fruits of the sessions were the Sit Down EP, rush-released by Sire to capitalise on the buzz around James. The EP came out in two formats - a seven-inch featuring lead track Chain Mail and Hup-Springs and a twelve-inch featuring an additional track Uprising. Despite the name, Sit Down the song was still two and a half years from being written.

Sire were unimpressed by the single seeing it as "too English" and not radio-friendly enough to make a significant impression on the charts. A precursor to what would happen throughout the Sire relationship, there was very little promotion of the single. The press adverts were bizarre as they carried disparaging comments about the band from previous reviews as a unique advertising technique.

Aside from John Peel, Radio 1 ignored the single and sales were disappointing. The press remained loyal to the band though, seeing James as the natural successors to The Smiths who were heading towards dissolution.

Artwork was yet again provided by John Carroll with the 7 and 12 inch formats having unique artwork which adds to their rarity value.

REVIEWS

NME

Cue woolly jumpers, cue real instruments, cue singer Tim mounting the vocal scales with frightening tunefulness. James' established fans will love it. Newcomers will probably be bemused at what all the fuss is about - but give it three listens and the Mancunian foursome's charms will begin to be revealed. The whimsy of a nursery rhyme, the bite of the most gruesome of fairy tales. This isn't a single to make James lots of money, but it should make them a few more friends.

MELODY MAKER

Typical rolling modernism from Manchester's strangest sons. Produced by Lenny Kaye (and it shows), Chain Mail taunts the listener as it trips through a full range of emotions. Cooky.

SOUNDS

The rustics who brought a racy edge and tumbling verve to their curious world on Hymn From A Village don't do much to suggest the excitement and fascination of that record here. This is cold, turgid and morose, cloistered in defiantly English whimsy - from the clip-clop primary school coconut shell sound effects that open to the clangorous Pete Hamill chorus that rises and groans throughout. I'm not sure what it's about - though I'd take a guess at strained misery being spiced by transcendent longing, but, more pertinently, I don't get the feeling I'd care anyway.