Music review: James, Hydro, Glasgow - 'actual goose bumps ensued'

Never mind the slight awkwardness created by their ‘no phones please’ policy, James are the more than acceptable face of arena rock, writes Paul Whitelaw

James, OVO Hydro, Glasgow ****

The show began with a polite and not unreasonable request from a disembodied voice: James would like us to switch off our phones for the duration of the performance. Most people complied. Some didn’t.

After the third song, while standing – somewhat precariously – on the crash barrier, frontman Tim Booth gently chided the refuseniks: “If I’m going to risk my neck for a Glaswegian audience, the least you could do is put your phones away? You’ll need two hands to support a rather frail sixty-four-year-old.”

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James frontman Tim Booth PIC: Michael GillenJames frontman Tim Booth PIC: Michael Gillen
James frontman Tim Booth PIC: Michael Gillen

Even that didn’t do the trick. Several phones remained stubbornly aloft, much to Booth’s obvious annoyance. This created a weird tension in the enormo-dome, but the band ploughed on like the seasoned pros they are. The occasionally transcendent power of their music eventually prevailed over the nagging awkwardness.

They delivered all the hits – Laid, Born of Frustration, Come Home and, inevitably, Sit Down – plus several songs from their pretty good new album Yummy. Resplendent in a capacious pair of white pantaloons, hippie guru Booth – whose supple voice hasn’t aged one bit over the years – rewarded the faithful with his signature ‘fighting off invisible bats’ dance, and a crowd surf/walkabout during Just Like Fred Astaire.

As requested, most people in the first few rows supported him with their phone-free hands. Others filmed him.

The undoubted highlight was a genuinely moving rendition of their best song Sometimes, which climaxed with massed backing vocals and the audience repeating its exultant refrain: “Sometimes, when I look into your eyes, I swear I can see your soul.” Actual goose-bumps ensued.

James are the more than acceptable face of arena rock: tuneful, sincere, touchy, feely and mildly despairing of the prevalence of mobile devices at large social gatherings. I’m on their side.

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