Tonight's support were an uninspiring Dad rock ensemble, old before their time. I only caught the last song but the chorus of "my messiah, my messiah, my messiah: rock'n'roll." was in equal parts meaningless, pointless and derivative: an overtly obvious attempt to re-model The Stone Roses 'Love Spreads'. In their leathers and black jeans they ticked all the 'Madchester' cliché boxes but sadly failed to impress with their borrowed swagger. I saw The Jesus and Mary Chain putting a call out on social media for local support acts to fill the slot after their original tour support had to pull out, so I'm not quite sure how this lead to Manchester's Alias Kid bagging the slot, considering how many great local bands we have, but good luck to them, they must have persuasive management.
 
The Jesus and Mary Chain open up with 'April Skies' the first single from their second album, it's arguably their most recognisable song, certainly their highest chart entry but it sounds kind of tame tonight and it sets the pace for most of this short opening set, easy-going alternative pop full of characteristic Reid brothers motif's: William's slow-motion guitar solos and Jim delivering his distinctive vocal, simple but effective melodies with a sort of restrained aggression under-pinning it all. I must confess I've never really followed the Jesus and Mary Chain, their most active era was a little before my time so, although I was familiar with their sound from every indie club I'd ever attended, I never bought their albums to listen to at home.
 
In the middle of this intro set the band played 'Some Candy Talking' from the Psychocandy album, followed by the song 'Psychocandy' from the follow-up, teasing at their true purpose tonight. Both tracks are breathy, airy tracks that added to a false sense of security that it was going to be a quiet night. I was starting to get used to the slow, measured pace of everything, finding myself admiring the bands drummer for his consistency when suddenly things begin to step up a gear just before the end of the first set: volume, lights, smoke, but not the pace which remained steady and intentional. 'Reverence' from their '92 album Honey's Dead introduced a big-beat style baggy groove with the repeated line 'I Wanna Die' creating a raised level of intensity, but really it was the sound of William Reid's guitar waking up that was exciting the mix. They closed the set with 'Upside Down', their début single, and the warm-up was complete.
 
Somehow I'd forgotten that tonight the band were here to play us their début album 'Psychocandy' in full. Armed with this knowledge the perfunctory introductory set made perfect sense – a carefully curated potted history of the band complete with it's Psychocandy teasers. I was glad I'd taken the precaution of picking up a pair of ear-plugs at the door as from the first note of 'Just Like Honey' it was clear The Jesus and Mary Chain of this first album was a totally different beast. The lead guitar had reached a blistering level of volume and it's wall of feedback would dominate proceedings for the next 40 minutes. The rock-steady drums, bass and rhythm guitar became a solid, metronomic base for William Reid to dress in slabs of nasty frequencies. Even Jim Reid's vocal became another background instrument, for on this rendition of their classic album the guitar was most certainly king. The light-show – full of strobes, smoke and seemingly abstract projections added to the immersive experience as guards wearing over-sized luminous ear protectors became a distraction at the front, perhaps hunting for a dude smoking a joint in the middle of the standing area.
 
The more familiar, or laid-back songs, like 'Taste The Floor' or 'Just Like Honey' itself, which found it's way onto the soundtrack of 'Lost In Translation' in recent years, seemed to come alive beneath the wall of sound. This was not the Jesus and Mary Chain I was used to or one I was expecting. I have always thought their recordings sounded a bit shoddy, if I'm honest, especially the early stuff. Live, however, with volume levels ramped up to the appropriately ridiculous it becomes a much more avant-garde proposition. The simple pop songs beneath that wall of noise take on a new meaning because of it. It's deliberate sabotage deftly done – surely a blueprint for all the shoegaze bands that followed. William Reid's guitar-noise is a spell-binding thing of beauty, masterful management of a sound that is, by it's own nature, out of control. It was a visceral experience that seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye and, although I'm never going to love them or call them my favourite band I finally feel like I get what the fuss is about. Next time someone plays something from Psychocandy I'm going to insist they turn it up as loud as it will go.
Adam Kidd