The band U2 wished they could be?

And they could’ve been as big as U2 – one listen to the soaring, aspirational numbers that make up the bulk of their set prove that, despite themselves, they couldn’t help but make what Mike Scott called “The Big Music”, and dream the big dream.

At the crucial moment though, James always took the slightly perverse, less obvious route : following their biggest record with a limited-edition, deleted-in-a-week 74 minute set of improvised jams, for example. Disappearing for three years at the height of their popularity and re-appearing with a record made (mostly) of semi-techno sketches. That kind of thing. James were always two bands, trading under one name.

Tonights show – number 7 on a raptourously received reformation tour – is chalk and cheese with the warmup show at Nambucca in London. There the band stumbled through an uncertain set that showcased the more obscure songs from lesser selling releases, and a pacing that offered an, at best, erratic view of their body of work. Tonight, bolstered by several more shows under their belt, and an eager, almost religious crowd, James perform what could possibly be one of their best shows. Certainly the best show of theirs I’ve seen. It feels like communion instead of a mere gig.

And they play to their strengths, moving slowly through their different styles to create a cohesive whole. Big numbers such as “Come Home”, “Destiny Calling”, “Ring The Bells”, and “Seven” are all delivered in a celebratory opening salvo that leaves the capacity crowd breathless and wowed. Around me, even at the back of the hall, people sing tunelessly obscure verses. It’s the new material – two fluid and seamless numbers known as “Who Are You?” and “Chameleon” – that prove that James aren’t some mere nostalgia act. They’re always pushing forward, and the new stuff manages to sound both utterly contemporary and classic James. “Chameleon” rolls on a dirty riff reminiscent of the under-rated Wah Wah album, and is followed by the generally unknown space freakout jam that is “Honest Joe”.

“Honest Joe” is the number that sorts out the fans from the people who bought “The Best Of”. Pockets of isolated spaz dancing throughout the room breakout whilst most other people catch a well deserved breather. The number is undoubtedly a high point of the set, as the band improvise their way through a fluid, flexible groove that seems to incorporate parts of “Jam J” in a heavy, compelling slice of mood music. This is the type of stuff U2 were aspiring for when they made those weird albums in the Nineties, but they weren’t good enough.

A gentle interlude follows, with a delicate take upon “Really Hard”, and stripped, reshaped versions of “She’s A Star”, “Say Something” and the dream thrums of the wonderful “Out To Get You”. The venue is bathed in a gentle blue light as the band lock into a different groove of ebbs and tides. Saul in particular, welded to whatever instrument he has, viola, guitar, tincan, plays with a passion as if he were born for this one purpose alone. Next to him, the long-missed Larry Gott welds his guitar as if it were some kind of divine hammer. It’s not just good to see him back on guitar : it’s right. As if things are back to the way they should be.

The remainder of the set is a compact précis of what made James great : the sense of aspirational hope and stubborn ambition that always produced their best music. Hits such as “Tommorow”, “Sit Down”, “Laid” and “Sometimes” are issued with an urgent and compelling vibrancy. The spiky “Hymn For A Village” is also played in an unholy clatter that is glorious in it’s noise.

Sure, some of the reason for this is money to finance a new album, but everything is about money.  Saul batters a cowbell inaudibly and sings to himself, lost in the joy of the music and the crowd sing along with him. Sometimes, when I look in your eyes I can see your soul. And that’s what all of this is really about.

Finding the poetry in our lives.

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