James formed in 1982 and they’re still here. That alone puts them in rare company. Tim Booth, Jim Glennie, and Larry Gott started the band in Manchester and have outlasted Madchester, Britpop, and whatever came after. They weren’t fashionable in the 80s, became massive in the 90s, went away for a bit, came back, and now sell out arenas again. The survival instinct is remarkable.
Sit Down is the one everyone knows — that chorus, arms everywhere, a communal experience that still works at gigs decades later. Laid was a hit in America thanks to a film soundtrack. Come Home, She’s a Star, Ring the Bells, Sometimes — the catalogue is deeper than the casual listener realises. Early records like Stutter and Strip-mine were produced by a pre-fame Brian Eno, which tells you something about their ambition from the start.
Booth’s dancing is its own thing. Eyes closed, arms extended, a kind of ecstatic flailing that looks ridiculous and completely sincere simultaneously. He’s been doing it for over 40 years and shows no sign of stopping. Live, James are genuinely powerful — the band is big, the sound is layered, and the crowd does most of the work on the choruses.
They’ve played the MEN Arena, the Apollo, the Etihad. The Christmas shows at the Arena became an annual tradition. Manchester adopted them properly during the Madchester years — Morrissey had championed them early, Booth was knocking about the same scene — but they were never really part of any movement. They just kept writing songs while movements rose and fell around them. Over 40 years in and still pulling 20,000 people at a time. You don’t argue with that.