Twenty-twenty-four has been a banner year for UK bands helmed by male siblings. Not only did Oasis announce a handful of reunion shows that are totally gonna actually happen, the U.S. is currently in the throes of a 27-date tour headlined by The Psychedelic Furs with support act The Jesus And Mary Chain, two of the most enduring mainstays of the ’80s post-punk>new wave>alt-rock transition era. Both bands broke up in the ’90s and reunited within a decade, and both are celebrating what could reasonably be termed “comeback albums” released in the ’20s. The tour stopped in Milwaukee Wednesday night and drew close to a capacity crowd at The Riverside Theater, largely made up of fans from their Gen-X and older core demographic.
Kicking the night off was Frankie Rose, whose music career didn’t start until after the other two bands had already ended their breakups. After doing time in several indie bands (Dum Dum Girls, Vivian Girls, etc.), the New York-based artist struck out on her own around 2010, releasing six solo albums to date, most recently last year’s Love As Projection. Her half-hour set was right in line with the headliners; flanked by two guitarists and wielding one herself (as well as handling an array of electronic equipment including a drum pad, as there was no actual drummer), she fronted an engaging half-hour set of shimmery post-punk, the stage mostly dark except for a projection screen behind the band displaying trippy black-and-white screensaver-type videos synced effectively with the changes in the music.
At 8 p.m., with the house lights still on, the smoke machines started pumping clouds onto the stage, and within a minute the Jesus And Mary Chain emerged to play “Jamcod” off this year’s Glasgow Eyes album. That song title is meant to be chanted letter for letter, providing a rich tongue-in-cheek opening; this would be the only vestige of humor for the night, as nobody in any of these bands had much interest in addressing the crowd. Brothers Jim and William Reid and their current bandmates barely even moved around the stage. In fact the set was a bit dull for the next 15 minutes or so as JAMC slowly warmed up, finally building a head of steam with “All Things Pass” before taking it back down to a slower, meditative pace with “Chemical Animal.” The lull didn’t last: “Some Candy Talking” achieved a series of noisy surges that made the studio version seem rather skeletal, and “Far Gone And Out” finally got fans in the balcony on their feet in appreciation.
Later in the set, JAMC welcomed Rose back to the stage for “Sometimes Always,” taking on the role of Mazzy Star’s Hope Sandoval, who originally guested on the song. Rose also lent her vocal talents to the penultimate song of the set, “Just Like Honey.” The opening track off JAMC’s debut Psychocandy sounded as good live as it (presumably) did four decades ago, and the band closed with the upbeat, infectious “Reverence,” again much more a wall of sound than the more stripped-down album version.
The volume in the room typically ramps up with each act, but as The Psychedelic Furs ripped into their opening song, “The Boy That Invented Rock And Roll,” anybody without earplugs knew they’d be suffering in the morning. The funny thing is, the Furs aren’t historically a super noisy band, and the Riverside is a venue that usually sounds great, so it was a tad dismaying that the volume had to be cranked to distorting levels for this set. Rather than the crisp art-pop/new-wave sound the Furs are mostly known for, their set was such a barrage of competing sounds it was often difficult to even discern melodies through the din.
Frontman Richard Butler perhaps wisely chose a gravelly, unassuming vocal style from the very beginning, so at age 68 he sounds no different than he did on his group’s 1980 debut. He prowled the stage like the reigning pop star the crowd greeted him as—especially the stage-right front row. His brother Tim on the other hand was basically expressionless throughout the set; maybe that’s always been his shtick, but he was the only member of the band who didn’t appear particularly enthused to be up there. Everybody else, as with JAMC, joined the entourage post-reunification; unlike JAMC, they all at least performed rock-band movements and seemed to be enjoying themselves.
This tour is ostensibly in support of the Furs’ 2020 album Made Of Rain, their first in almost three decades. Obviously the proposed 2020 tour was scrapped, but it was a little baffling that they couldn’t manage more than two songs off that (surprisingly good!) record during their set, which lasted only about 70 minutes. The expected hits (“Love My Way,” “Pretty In Pink”) yielded the expected crowd adulation, no surprises, no frills. The Furs and the Chain were never showy acts; fans weren’t hoping for big instrumental solos or a laser show or a slew of rarities, but perhaps a little bit of banter? A story from the glory days? Some tiny acknowledgement of where we’d been or how far we’ve come? If you’re looking to hear the Furs and JAMC songs played loudly with a crowd around you, definitely catch this tour; if you crave anything beyond that, don’t.
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