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Sibling relationships can be difficult to manage in gangsas demonstrated by numerous bands, including yours. How do you balance your relationship as brothers and bandmates?? yesomecandytalking
Jim Reid (vocals, guitar): If I have learned anything it is how to deal with my brother, and he is the same. We used to have invisible lines that we didn’t cross, but in the ’90s we couldn’t stand each other. I am eternally grateful that most of the incidents occurred before smartphones, so they are not on YouTube. One night while we were DJing, we ended up rolling on the floor, fighting, looking at people’s horrified expressions.
William Reid (vocals, guitar): At the House of Blues (Los Angeles) concert in 1998, Jim got so drunk he couldn’t remember the songs. I kicked him off the stage, I tried to be the singer, but he didn’t know the words. He broke up the band for nine years, but we haven’t had a fight in a long time. Everything is fine if there is no alcohol involved. We are already mature. You don’t want to be arguing all the time.
Jim: By not having the band, the relationship healed. The song Jamcod from the new album (Glasgow Eyes) is about that night, but now we both know what not to say.
Jim once said, “After every tour, we wanted to kill each other, and after the final tour, we tried.”Who would have killed who? Zaropans
William: I would have killed Jim, because I’m bigger.
Jim: I must say that I would have killed William. As if Goldfinger was going to kill James Bond, tied to a table, with lasers.
At 15, I I picked up my vinyl copy of Psychocandy I went back to the record store because I thought something was wrong. How would you describe the sound of that album? TopTramp
Jim: Psychocandy was us trying to fix everything that was wrong in the music scene, so if it sounded the opposite of the diarrhea coming out of the radio at the time, job done.
I remember a song you did with Shane MacGowan, God help me. They got along well? stevelittlefingers
William: I used to see Shane around town. He was always very drunk and he always said, “Jim! Jim! You are a fucking genius! I would say, “I’m William,” but it happened so often that I let him call me Jim. We were big Pogues fans. He had written the song about me, but I thought it would sound good with Shane singing. It wasn’t easy to get that man into the studio. So he was doing heroin too, but we finally did it and it was fantastic.
Jim: In a just world, Shane would have kicked the bottle at 40 and lived to be 90, but he was great, everything you’d want him to be. He once sang that song with us at Madame JoJo’s in Soho. We were very nervous and they massacred us, then he appeared completely sober and looked at us as if we were degenerates. The concert was brilliant; he sang like he was back in the Nipple Erectors. Pure punk rock.
Did you agree with Alan McGee (the head of the band’s label, Creation Records) in the 1980s when he said you were the best thing since the Sex Pistols? galdove19
William: It’s a little easy to believe when someone tells you that you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened, but then you hear them say the same thing to (early Creation act) the Legend. Alan called everything “genius.” A chocolate bar could be great. The hyperbole got us positive attention and then a lot of negative attention. Jim got hit twice and people went to concerts just to throw bottles at us. So we told McGee to tone it down.
Jim: I think it was NME or Sounds that started it, but McGee (and I’m sure he would admit this) was going through his Malcolm McLaren phase. As soon as I read that, I thought, “That’s kind of dangerous.” I got beat up at a Nick Cave concert. The word “hype” used to get on my nerves, so I’m not sure all publicity is good publicity. In the end we left for six months. We thought all the rioting and violence at our concerts would calm down, and when we came back, it had.
the letter of The pimples’Mildenhall by the shins count James Mercer’s introduction to alternative music: “A kid in class handed me a tape, a band called Jesus and the Mary Chain.” How did you get into music and what band or artist was your first love? VerulamiumParkRanger
Jim: William got a Dansette for his birthday and all these Beatles and Bob Dylan records. The Beatles brought me to music. Then it was a journey of discovery from glam rock to punk. He transported us from East Kilbride to a fantasy world. With bands like Roxy Music, you’d think, “We couldn’t do that in a million years,” but then I spent the whole night trying to play Blitzkrieg Bop by the Ramones and I thought, “Fuck, I’m a musician!”
William: I had a dirty and dangerous job in a sheet metal factory in Glasgow. An interview with Johnny Rotten in the Daily Record, where he talked about not working a dead-end job, really affected me. After a year, I quit my job. Before I heard the Ramones, I was playing Coming Round the Mountain from Bert Weedon’s “play in a day” (guitar tutorial) books.
The sound of Just Like Honey during the final scene of 2003’s Lost in Translation is one of the greatest uses of music in film. How much involvement did you have in its inclusion and were you satisfied with the final result? VerulamiumParkRanger
William: The only implication we had was saying “yes.” We were going to say no, because the offer was so low, but then someone I knew who was working on the film told me that (writer-director) Sofia Coppola didn’t have any money, but she was committed to doing it and she would be devastated. if we said no.
Jim: Many times our songs were used in movies and played for like eight seconds coming out of a radio. So to have the climax scene in such a great movie was brilliant. It gained us a lot of new fans.
What’s the best boo you’ve ever had? Area3AAM
William: Boos don’t tend to be clever. It’s usually: “Fuck you.”
Jim: Once, in New York, there was a guy in a combat uniform, dressed like Travis Bickle, staring at me and making fierce gestures. I thought, “If he gets up, I’m done for.” Then he tried to get on stage. It took four security guys to restrain him and throw him out.
Did the Center Point nightclub in East Kilbride rival the Haçienda in Manchester? slum pop
William: When we lived there, the nightclub was the Olympia. I must say that the Haçienda was much less violent. I still have the snap in my jaw from a guy who kicked me at the Olympia in 1975.
Is it true that you shouted “Guilty!” in the song Drama by Erasure? YorksJambo
William: It is. We were in the same studios and his producer wanted a bunch of people to shout: “Guilty!” It was funny, because his singer, Andy Bell, had plastered our latest album in a music newspaper, so when we walked in he turned white as a sheet. But he had no reason to fear us. Despite our reputation, we are friendly people: tea and toast types.
The first gig I attended was on the Psychocandy tour at the Royal Court in Liverpool. You played for 29 minutes. Do you play longer now? Can I get my money back? butchoaks
William: No refunds, sorry! Today we play about an hour and a half, which is about right. We have many more songs.
Jim: I get bored watching bands for more than half an hour. Even if they dug up the Beatles or whatever. In that golden age, where we could do whatever we wanted, we even did 20-minute shows. You realize that people want to hear the songs they’ve paid for, but I’d still do 29 minutes if we could get our way!
What would the nihilistic, riot-inducing JAMC do if you kept doing it now? More sheep than humans
William: I think we would be proud, because when we started, interviewers asked, “What will you do in five years?” Everyone thought we would be a flash in the pan. After 40 years, I think we realize that it will only stop when we stop it.
Jim: The people we were then, we still are. I think we’d be pretty comfortable with what we’ve become, but we’d be surprised to know we’re still doing it. But if you’re doing it because you love it and you’ve made a new record that you think is as good as anything you’ve ever made, then why the fuck not?