Since their landmark 1985 debut Psychocandy, the Jesus and Mary Chain thrived on the familial tension between William and Jim Reid, the brothers at the heart of the band. The friction that spurred their artistry during their heyday ultimately proved to be their undoing, culminating in a notorious onstage implosion at the House of Blues Los Angeles in September 1998. The Reids finally immortalize that incident in “jamcod,” the first single from Glasgow Eyes, an album that answers the question: What would a harmonious Jesus and Mary Chain sound like?
Glasgow Eyes is only the second album of new material the band has released since reuniting in 2007. After nearly a decade apart, the Reids mended fences so they could headline Coachella, then spent another 10 years figuring out how to move forward as a creative unit. They reemerged in 2017 with Damage and Joy, co-produced with Youth, whom the Reids hired because they believed they might need a mediator. Damage and Joy offered a spruced-up spin on the JAMC’s signature blend of rock sleaze and dreamy drones—evidence the group could still deliver new material yet suggesting they could be in danger of recycling past ideas. The Reid brothers opted to push back against looming stagnation by producing Glasgow Eyes themselves, revitalizing their rock’n’roll by focusing on synthesizers, not stompboxes.
Electronics always have lurked within the Jesus and Mary Chain’s sound, shaping the rhythms of Darklands and accentuating the ominous, saturated hues of Automatic. Glasgow Eyes flips the emphasis: synths often take center stage, leaving guitars as either punctuation or texture. The shift in direction is evident from the moment “Venal Joy” kicks off in a whirring squall of electronics underpinned by primitive sequenced drums. “Venal Joy” is insistent but not combative, demonstrating the Jesus and Mary Chain’s ability to bend old-school synths so they sound like the noise-pop that is their stock in trade.
They spend much of Glasgow Eyes pursuing retro electronics to a logical conclusion. Whether it’s the sneering “American Born” or chilled-out thrum of “Discotheque,” the group winds up playing murky new wave that walks the line between homage and satire. A few pointed exceptions arrive during the duo’s strolls through rock’s back pages. “Hey Lou Reid” is split between fuzz-toned garage and oceanic waves of strums—the two sides of the Velvet Underground combined in salute—and “The Eagles and the Beatles” is propelled by a riff that purposely nods at “I Love Rock ’n Roll,” the Arrows glam-rocker that Joan Jett & the Blackhearts turned into a standard in 1981 (not to be confused with JAMC’s own “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll,” which opened their 1998 album Munki).
It’s not as simple as nostalgia; the Jesus and Mary Chain have been keenly aware of the arc of rock history since their start. Yet there’s an unmistakably wistful undercurrent in these looks back, even if few songs apart from “jamcod” could be explicitly labeled as autobiography. The brooding “Chemical Animal” plays as a confession (“I fill myself with chemicals/To hide the dark shit I don’t show”); other turns of phrase suggest that former feuds are now resolved. The lyric “Brother, can you hear me calling you?” pops out on “Second of June,” whose bridge concludes with Jim Reid singing his band’s own name. Such fleeting moments of reflection intertwine with a clutch of songs draped in shimmering melancholy. The best is “Silver Strings,” a lithe slice of nocturnal new wave that illustrates the benefits of favoring synths over six strings: It floats, unencumbered by earthly notions.
Beneath its electronic veneer, Glasgow Eyes sounds curiously settled. The synthesized arrangements are something of a sleight of hand, disguising how the Jesus and Mary Chain aren’t abandoning their old obsessions; they’re still singing about longing and decadence. Ultimately, what’s different about Glasgow Eyes is not the form but the tenor. As they advance into middle age, the tension between the Reid brothers has dissipated, giving Glasgow Eyes an unusually congenial spirit.
