BEATS OF LOVE
129. Never Understood: The Jesus and Mary Chain by William & Jim Reid
BEING IN bunker mode mentality because of more weird dark art shit has led to a lot of books being read.
Psychocandy was the ultimate antidote to the artifice of eighties pop, which grew the prettiest flowers on a monolithic slab of fuzzed up feedback and its creators, the first pop stars to speak directly to my teenage self. I'm still indebted to them for being so real then and now. The goths I knew were all middle-managers or bank clerks and hated the gritty realism of the Mary Chain. Unsurprising coz goths were all about that same artifice, I guess.
They glaze over this period of relative solidarity with a warmth that fades out with each subsequent chapter until they can no longer be on the same continent together. That said, a shared self depreciating humour accompanied by a hindsight that comes with age means the book remains colourfully gripping throughout and never once loses sight of the disorientating music. Music, as understood from the perspectives of at least half a dozen different versions of each brother.
That Dave Booth regularly span Never Understand at the Hangout was a testament to their musical influence. It was like a shot of something authentic that had more in common with Funhouse tracks than the sugary Inspiral Carpets tracks being played. It's tragic to learn that a band who, to my mind, at least existed within the confines of their own in-built mythology, was jealous of the happening scenes that sprung up around them. Tragic, but heartening to learn that they're human after all.
Ultimately, despite the authors' best efforts to convince you otherwise, that's their lasting legacy. They transcended the age in which they first came into fashion to become something truly timeless.
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