As befits an album bookended by tracks titled "I Love Rock'n'Roll" and "I Hate Rock'n'Roll," the Jesus and Mary Chain's Sub Pop label debut, Munki, is schizophrenic and impassioned, a record that both summarizes the band's career to date and cleans the slate for their future. Virtually each of the 17 tracks here echoes a prior moment in the Chain's existence, moving at breakneck pace from the volcanic noise of their earliest material to the bleak grace of Darklands, through to the sleek, supercharged pop of Automatic -- even Mazzy Star's Hope Sandoval makes a cameo, as she did on Stoned & Dethroned. In a sense, it's an ideal primer to the Reid brothers' mercurial world, flirting with both brilliance and mediocrity; even after well over a decade, the Jesus and Mary Chain continue to thrill, irritate, and confound -- they're a true love/hate obsession. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
Having made a name for itself through its career for punishing noise combined with candy-coated hooks, the Jesus and Mary Chain took a sideways step on Stoned & Dethroned that actually worked rather handsomely. The Reids turned the emphasis toward much calmer, acoustic folk/country-tinged songs and, for the first time since Psychocandy, recorded with an actual full band, with Monti from Curve once again doing the drum honors and touring bassist Ben Lurie handling the same duties in studio. The appearance of Hope Sandoval on lead single "Sometimes Always" makes perfect sense, as Mazzy Star's electric/acoustic psych flow is, if not the inspiration for Stoned & Dethroned, a close enough cousin. "Sometimes Always" does indeed make for a lovely little duet, not quite a Lee & Nancy combination for a new generation, but a fine romp anyway, while on the other guest number Shane Macgowan from the Pogues takes a nicely mournful lead turn on "God Help Me." As for the album in general, the songs are much more than simply a toned-down Mary Chain -- it's almost as if the group were making its bid to finally demonstrate that it really was comprised of actual musicians, honest to goodness. What feedback there is appears as smoky atmosphere rather than skull-crushing scream, and oddly enough the end results almost suggest early-'70s Rolling Stones more than anything else, tinged as always with pure pop hooks and melodies. William's singing actually comes more to the fore than before, his warmer, less sneering vocals suiting the burned-out feeling of the album very nicely. A few songs could easily be full-on monsters -- the brief "Come On" and the almost uplifting "Girlfriend" in particular -- but, by and large, the drama is implicit rather than explicit. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
Again working with Alan Moulder but now also using a live drummer on most tracks -- namely Monti from Curve, one of the Mary Chain's many descendants -- the Reids came back strong with Honey's Dead, on balance a more consistent and satisfying record than Automatic. There's a sense of greater creativity with the arrangements, while the balance between blasting static rampage and precise, almost clinical delivery is the finest yet, making the album as a whole the best straight-through listen since Psychocandy. Monti's drumming finally replaces Bobby Gillespie's properly; he's a much more talented musician than the Primal Scream overlord, using the warped funk hits familiar from Curve's work to the Mary Chain's advantage. Even the drum machine-driven cuts work better than before, especially the brilliant, coruscating opener, "Reverence." Burning with some of the best nails-on-chalkboard feedback the band had yet recorded, combined with a whipsmart sharp breakbeat, all it took was the finishing touch of Jim Reid's sneering lines like "I wanna die like Jesus Christ" to make it another stone-cold classic single from the band. Other winners include "Sugar Ray," with beats and melody so immediate and addictive the track was actually used for a beer commercial, of all things, and the steady slap and crunch of "Good for My Soul." If there's a danger in Honey's Dead, it's that the near bottomless pit of reworked melodies and lyrics had almost reached its end -- even the final track, "Frequency," combines both "Reverence" itself with the Modern Lovers' "Roadrunner" -- which made the stylistic shift on Stoned & Dethroned a logical follow-up. William and Jim Reid split all the vocals almost evenly, the former especially shining on the nearly gentle "Almost Gold," the closest the record comes to a sweet ballad. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
The Jesus and Mary Chain's third studio album was a mixed bag, a touch rougher and more aggressive-sounding than Darklands, but still not the equivalent of Psychocandy for sheer kicks. Part of the problem was the actual studio setup; while soon-to-be superstar producer/engineer Alan Moulder did a great job on the sound, finding a way to mix thick guitar rumbles without sounding uncommercial, the fact was that the band was really just the brothers at this point. Like on Darklands, all drumming was courtesy of machines, and here the approach often felt monotonous; Bobby Gillespie's approach, for better or worse, really was distinct and individual, fitting with the style of the band beautifully. Meanwhile, much of the bass was also created via keyboards, another unusual switch. When Automatic was on, though, it was on, especially courtesy of another blazingly brilliant single. If "Sidewalking" was a T. Rex homage, "Head On" paid tribute to rock's eternal image of supercharged cool; one can almost smell the black leather as Jim Reid delivers the ultimate "Break on Through" lyric: "Makes you wanna feel/Makes you wanna try/Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky." The music sure didn't hurt either; even the synth bass sounded perfectly right. Other songs, like the brawling "Blues From a Gun" and the aggro-sneer of "Her Way of Praying," suggest a new energy on the part of all involved, though likely enough they came across better live in the end with the Reids' then-touring band of the time. Meanwhile, there are definitely some sharp individual moments: the sudden massive feedback clang during the instrumental break on "Coast to Coast," the "Sweet Jane"-inspired melody on the nicely moving "Halfway to Crazy," and the hint of strings on the brief "Drop." ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
Feeling no doubt burdened by the various claims of being the new Sex Pistols, and likely fed up with accusations that the walls of feedback were their own trick, the Reid brothers underwent a bit of a rethink with Darklands. The end result must have fallen squarely between two camps -- hardly eligible for sunny commercial airplay, not quite as flailing as the earliest efforts -- but, from a distance, this is an appealing, enjoyable record. Songs were often longer while the album itself was shorter than Psychocandy, walls of sound were often stripped away in favor of calmer classic rock twang and groove, while William Reid took the lead vocal at points, showing he had a slightly sweeter, wistful tone in comparison to his brother. However, the changes on Darklands can be overstated -- the basic formula at the heart of the band (inspired plagiarism of melodies and lyrics alike, plenty of reverb, etc.) stayed pretty much the same, even if the mixes were cleaned up -- compare "Down on Me" to any Psychocandy cut for a good example of the difference. The use of drum machines in place of Bobby Gillespie's rumble tended to enforce the newer focus, but at the album's best, such a seeming dichotomy didn't cause too much worry. "April Skies" made for a great single, while the soaring-in-spite-of-itself "Happy When It Rains" was another winner, one that Garbage more or less made its own some years later for its own similarly titled hit. William's singing turns made for other highlights as well, notably "Nine Million Rainy Days," the overt misery of the title suiting the dark crawl of the song, and the lengthy lament "On the Wall." Darklands is no Psychocandy in the end -- nothing the band released later ever was -- but it's still a good listen. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
Arguably Psychocandy is an album with one trick and one trick alone -- Beach Boys melodies meet Velvet Underground feedback and beats, all cranked up to ten and beyond, along with plenty of echo. However, what a trick it is. Following up on the promise of the earliest singles, the Jesus and Mary Chain with Psychocandy arguably created a movement without meaning to, one that itself caused echoes in everything from bliss-out shoegaze to snotty Britpop and back again. The best tracks were without question those singles, anti-pop yet pure pop at the same time: "Just Like Honey," starting off like the Ronettes heard in a canyon and weirdly beautiful with its bells, "You Trip Me Up" and its slinking sense of cool, and most especially "Never Understand." Storming down like a rumble of bricks wrapped in cotton candy and getting more and more frenetic at the end, when there's nothing but howls and screaming noise, it's one hell of a track. However, at least in terms of sheer sonic violence and mayhem, most of the other cuts were pretty hard to beat, as sprawling, amped-up messes like "The Living End" (which later inspired both a band and a movie title) and "In a Hole." "My Little Underground" is actually the secret gem on the album, with a great snarling guitar start, an almost easygoing melody and a great stuttering chorus -- not quite the Who but not quite anything else. What the Reids sing about -- entirely interchangeable combinations regarding girls, sex, drugs, speed, and boredom in more or less equal measure -- is nothing compared to the perfectly disaffected way those sentiments are delivered. Bobby Gillespie's "hit the drums and then hit them again" style makes Moe Tucker seem like Neil Peart, but arguably in terms of sheer economy he doesn't need to do any more. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide