Roy Jurgens on August 10th, 2019

0

Gen Xers rejoiced in unison at the Greek Theatre on Wednesday, as the reanimated friendly ghosts of many a John Hughes film swept over them. The last of the 24-date joint Psychedelic Furs/James tour saw both bands deliver hearty helpings of nostalgia to a rapt audience. Indeed, there was a temptation to write something snarky about the crowd checking in with their sitter between bands, but upon further reflection it dawned that many in the audience were quite possibly grandparents by now. Yes, with the headliners pushing toward or into their ’60s, and “Pretty in Pink” debuting on the silver screen 33 years ago, post-punk is now eligible for AARP. 

James deserve to be spoken of with the same reverence as the much more popular Mancunian bands, partially because they inspired many of them. Born in 1982, James were also more cerebral and diverse than their fellow football punters, dabbling in Celtic, electronica and Northern Soul, along with a great makeout session with Brian Eno to their credit. They also shunned the typical four-piece guitar, bass, drums format that defined almost every band of that era, employing horns, strings, keys and percussion, which created something known as the “The Big Music,” similar to the Waterboys, their Scotch/Irish brethren to the north. It took until the 1990s for the band to break the States, and break they did, as their single “Laid,” a tongue in cheek foray about a sexy romp dominated the airwaves in 1994. And it was that song, the fourth of their 11-song set, where the Greek Theatre audience collectively gasped, realizing “Oh my God, this is who sings that song.”

James sing modern campfire songs, vulnerable, endearing and cheeky. But as sunny as James can come across, their wordsmith is biting. “This crackhead’s tiny fingers / accusing you of what he’ll do / white fascists in the White House / more beetroot in your Russian stew” — lyrics from their new single “Hank” — don’t pull any punches regarding the current political climate. Singer Tim Booth is the illuminating frontman, wiry and fluid (now we know where Thom Yorke got his “Lotus Flower” dance from). He has that gravitational shaman-like persona that transcends. Booth, who more and more has come to resemble the fearsome Don Logan, Ben Kingsley’s marvelously unhinged villain in “Sexy Beast,” ventured deep into the crowd during their 1990 Madchester hit “Come Home,” the kind of musical sojourn that lent itself to a welcome early-evening walkabout. 

An hourlong set is criminally short for a band that has 250-plus songs in their catalogue. Hit singles such as “Sit Down,” (Liverpool rewrote the lyrics in 2018 as a new terrace chant for star striker Mohamed Salah), “Sometimes,” “Born of Frustration,” “Moving On” and “She’s a Star” didn’t make the abbreviated set, as the band chose to feature five songs from the 2018 release “Living in Extraordinary Times.” While the new tracks did sound surprisingly fresh, one hopes they make continued use of their U.S. visas and come back for a headlining theater tour of their own. 

The sun had finally set behind the trees of the Greek, and the evening’s tone went from light to dark for the Psychedelic Furs. The familiar xylophone hook of the “Love My Way” brought immediate applause, as singer Richard Butler swept in like the darkness, donning polka dots amid his elegant black outfits. While James came across as organic and fervent, the Furs came across a bit too perfect and calculated. While James emoted, the Furs performed. To be fair, the Furs haven’t released an album of new material since 1991, so they aren’t exactly pushing the envelope of creativity.

The diminutive Mars Williams has always been the Furs’ secret weapon. The saxman’s penchant for jazzy counter-melodies always set the Furs apart from their post-punk brethren. Thus, they’ve always sounded like a London band that came from the bowels New York City. But the instrument that gave the Furs their distinctive sound has always been Richard Butler’s voice. It was in all its raspy glory Wednesday night, steeped in a lifetime of cigarettes and alcohol, his trademark ashtray full of broken glass in full croak.

The anthemic “Heaven,” with its chiming chord progression, sounded every bit as heavenly as it did when Butler twirled in the rain on MTV 35 years ago. “The Ghost in You” is off the same album. 1984’s “Mirror Moves” is another legit ’80s warhorse that rings true. But the biggest cheer was reserved for “Pretty in Pink,” from the 1986 film of the same name. The Furs do ’80s nostalgia better than most of their peers. Far from one-hit wonders that populate the package tours, they have a vast catalog from which to draw from. So vast that “All that Money Wants,” “Dumb Waiters,” “All of This and Nothing” and “Until She Comes” didn’t make the evening’s cut.

“President Gas” held a bit of that piss and vinegar that the Furs were so good at delivering in the heyday. Coming out for the encore, the closing number, “India” finally let loose of the reins, the band driving along furiously as Butler sarcastically snarled “I’m an American, Ha, Ha, Ha…,” while Williams honked wildly outside the lines. The 13-song set delivered everything an ’80s kid could have wanted. T’was a night of brief escapism so succinctly described in the lyrics of “Love My Way”: “So swallow all your tears, my love and put on your new face, you can never win or lose, if you don’t run the race.”

Opening the night, Los Angeles quartet Dear Boy proved themselves worthy heirs to the sound of their British forebears, performing songs from their “The Strawberry” and “Parts of a Flower” EPs, as well as their new single “Heaven Moves.”