586. you trip me up

The Jesus and Mary Chain seemed to come from nowhere way back when, that lost decade found somewhere within the mid-1980s. Something’s gotta f***ing give, the zeitgeist was screaming, somebody’s gotta take all this noise to its extreme edge, give us all a smug, punk sneer, call it music, cause riots, get arrested, sell records. In the case of You Trip Me Up, that meant taking a nice little la-la-la love song and plugging it into the end of the universe. Sometimes on late night radio, we’d play it at the same time as Pink Floyd’s Interstellar Overdrive, both channels maxed to eleven – like competing nuclear mushroom clouds. It had to be done.” (Philip Random)

JAMC-1984

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664. kill surf city

“I have no clear memory of when I first heard this ragged Jesus And Mary Chain gem.  One of those songs that just sort of percolated into my consciousness in that aforementioned noisy year of 1988, not unlike a terrorist bomb in reverse. All dangerous up front and around the edges but get to the heart of it and you realize there’s a nice little surf tune humming along, deftly undermining the foundations of civilization in the nicest possible way.” (Philip Random)

JAMC-1988

756. April Skies

Proof that underneath all the noise and provocation of their early gigs and releases, The Jesus And Mary Chain were first and foremost a damned good rock and roll band doing their bit to keep the western world from imploding. Or more to the point, encouraging the right kind of implosion. Stark and raw, bleak but beautiful, like those first hints of spring sunlight after a long, bitter winter, and even then you know there are some fierce winds yet to blow. Because the Winter of Hate was a long one, no question there.  Ended up lasting more than a decade.

JAMC-1987