The Jesus and Mary Chain's Psychocandy at 40

Jim and William Reid were caught between opposing forces from the moment they decided to start a band. On the dole in East Kilbride in the early 80s, they couldn't relate to the polished pop music they heard on the radio. New wave, disco and Americanised rock music had little in common with their upbringing in the original 'new town', which by this time was starting to feel the segregating effects of industrial decline and Thatcherite policies it never signed up for. But instead of retreating too deeply into abstraction and abrasion like many post-punk bands of the day, the Reid brothers held onto a deep love and appreciation of 60s melodicism; The Beach Boys, The Shangri-Las, even The Monkees. These were all as big a part of The Jesus and Mary Chain DNA as the rapidfire proto-punk of The Stooges and Ramones, and the industrial experimentation of Einstürzende Neubauten.

Until the release of Psychocandy, the JAMC were in danger of being a chaotic footnote in an era that often prioritised aesthetics over substance. The Reid brothers, in shades and all black, were already moody curmudgeons in their early 20s. They played fast, guerrilla gigs partly because they were banned in so many places and partly due to all the speed they were taking. They performed with their backs to the audience and wouldn't engage until things turned violent. Alan McGee had pound signs in his eyes when drummer Bobby Gillespie turned him onto this band that many thought would be the new Sex Pistols. What a pleasant surprise for all involved when it turned out they could also write a song.

Of course, the brothers already knew this. They'd just never had the chance to record anything properly and had to make to do with broken guitars and two drums (calling it a drum kit would be generous). The band romanticised their lo-fi equipment, with bassist Douglas Hart quipping, “That's the two I use. What's the fucking point in spending money on another two?” when asked about his two-string bass. But when they got in the studio in spring 1985 they brought all their contradictions out of the dark and into dazzling focus.

Originally a young Stephen Street was prepped to record Psychocandy. Fresh off his work on Meat Is Murder, there's a fascinating alternate universe where the famously fuzzy album is cleaned up and the JAMC become a burgeoning proto-Britpop band. Fortunately, those sessions didn't work out and John Loder stepped in. He was an engineer already steeped in grotty British punk and knew just what to tidy up and what to leave in. There's a reason he was revered by Steve Albini, and his minimalist instincts suited the JAMC to a tee. Its simplicity makes you wonder how no-one did it earlier; the realisation that imperfection is the appeal must have seemed obvious to the band, but in that era of impeccably precise production Psychocandy was a rare album that felt messy and raw, authentic and original.

Gillespie's fleeting legacy with The Jesus and Mary Chain is exemplified within the first ten seconds of the band's remarkable 1985 debut, Psychocandy. Flagrantly pinching the most famous drum riff in pop history from The Ronettes (Be My Baby), Gillespie instantly connected the band to pure pop royalty just moments into the album's opening song, Just Like Honey. Gillespie had only been in the band for a few months when Psychocandy was recorded, and would leave just after it came out to focus on his own game-changing rock band, but when that riff mixes with William's reverb-laden guitar, the juxtaposition that would fuel the sound of the band was born.

Squalling feedback appears on the second song, The Living End, where the band's love of Suicide also becomes apparent (see also: It's So Hard), both in the propulsive arrangement and references to motorbikes and leather boots. And from there, distortion is used liberally to smear the lens of what might otherwise have been perfectly serviceable two-chord melodies. You can practically feel the crackling electricity through the speakers on In a Hole and the first two singles, Never Understand and You Trip Me Up; both have a steady hum of feedback that will have you checking your connection.

Jim Reid's inscrutable vocals rarely rise above laconic, though he can occasionally muster up a bit of enthusiasm to sell a hook like on Sowing Seeds and Taste of Cindy; the latter a sub-two minute nugget of fuzzy bubblegum rock that laid the blueprint for The Vaselines. Lyrics are mostly vague and simple, revealing detail on closer listens but rarely demanding your attention. Jim almost affects a shout just before the album's 39 minutes are up on It's So Hard, but remembers his nonchalance just in time.

Psychocandy became the primary enabler for the nascent Creation Records, even though the album was actually released on Warner subsidiary, Blanco y Negro. Alan McGee managed the band from 1984-86 and the profits he made were funnelled into Creation, indirectly leading to now-classic albums from Primal Scream, Slowdive, Teenage Fanclub and, of course, Oasis. The JAMC were influential to varying degrees on all of these bands (the Gallaghers' back story is basically a Mancunian retelling of the Reids'), but the sounds they cultivated and popularised have had much more far-reaching reverberations.

Psychocandy is generally viewed as the platonic ideal of noise-pop, directly influencing the shoegaze explosion of the late 80s/early 90s close to home via My Bloody Valentine and Ride, and the emergent alt-rock scene in the USA via Pixies and Dinosaur Jr. This continued into the new millennium as bleary-eyed noise rockers abounded in the American indie scene, with No Age, Best Coast and Sleigh Bells just a few examples. However, it's Glasvegas who are the most blatant torch-bearers in Scotland. Jim Reid's throwback greaser look was already anachronistic in the 80s; it was basically cosplay when James Allan took it up 20 years later. But beyond that, the band's wall-of-sound approach, unapologetically accented vocals and alternating fragile/menacing arrangements tread a fine line between homage and tribute band.

After Psychocandy the JAMC went on to experiment with electronics and synths, dialling back the fuzz and aggression, and highlighting their melodic chops, but this remains the mission statement and foundational document 40 years on. They continue to be an influential presence through endless post-punk and psychedelic revivals, and the work of anyone who seeks to slather a bit of distortion over a catchy hook. There hasn't been a new generation yet that hasn't sought out Psychocandy for inspiration and as long as there are disaffected youths with charity shop instruments, there will be new converts to the cult of the JAMC.

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Psychocandy was first released on 18 Nov, 1985 via Blanco y Negro Records; a limited edition splatter vinyl to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the record is available now as part of last month's National Album Day celebrations