Forty years after forming in East Kilbride, The Jesus and Mary Chain returned to the Barrowland Ballroom in Glasgow, celebrating both their roots and their current tour Glasgow Eyes celebrating 40 years since the release of the bands seminal album Psycho Candy. Tonight was a pilgrimage for fans who have followed the band’s noisy, trailblazing journey from local dives to shoegaze stardom.

Support act Ceil warmed up the Barrowlands with their ethereal, synth-drenched melodies that felt like Cocteau Twins dipped in a bath of 90s trip-hop. The Glasgow crowd, notoriously tough to please, were surprisingly gentle, nodding along in approval, likely out of respect for a band who felt like the perfect appetizer for the grunge to come .

As the house lights dimmed and the crowd surged forward, the JAMC sauntered on stage, opening with Jamcod, a dark, swirling blend of electronica and feedback that sounded like Kraftwerk meeting Moon Duo in a back alley. The song’s hypnotic, motorik groove proved the band hadn’t mellowed with age; they had merely evolved .

“Chemical Animal,” with its brooding two-note bassline and synth-laden doom, stood out as a high point from the new album. Its industrial-meets-goth swagger reminded everyone that even after four decades, the band could still surprise and seduce .

Older classics were lapped up eagerly by the crowd. Some Candy Talking turned the Ballroom into a haze of swaying bodies, while Only Happy When It Rains became a communal howl of catharsis, its ironic lyrics striking a chord with Glasgow’s famously moody temperament.

Between tracks, frontman Jim Reid joked, “Forty f***ing years, and there’s still faces out there!” The crowd roared back in appreciation, a mix of die-hards and newcomers caught up in the band’s timeless magic.

The encore started with Darklands, the melancholic anthem that brought a hush over the audience, followed by Just Like Honey, which sent shivers through the Ballroom with its iconic opening drumbeat. The night ended with Reverence, a searing blast of distortion that reaffirmed their punk roots and left ears ringing in the best possible way.

As the band ambled off stage as the final notes of the evening hung in the air this concert —it was a Glasgow love letter, inked with distortion, attitude, and a defiant middle finger to the passage of time. For The Jesus and Mary Chain, the Barrowland Ballroom wasn’t just another venue; it was home, and tonight they owned it. If you’ve never seen them live, you’ve been missing a piece of rock history.

Article: Angela Canavan