born of love and rivalry... GENE LOVES JEZEBEL

In a world awash in black and raincoats, Michael and John (Jay) Aston were the true Glimmer Twins...

Identical twins have a relationship like none other, a closeness that is almost telepathic. Yet sibling rivalry, and the battle to be seen as individuals, remains a potent force. While the world sees only the sameness, twins may battle to show their uniqueness, drawing attention to the fine line that separates them. And it's on this fine line that Gene Loves Jezebel created their music - born of love and rivalry.

Their look was unique in their heyday. In a world awash in black and raincoats, Michael and John (Jay) Aston were the true Glimmer Twins, drop dead gorgeous, glitter drenched and kohl smeared, their clothes a riot of colors, dresses, and scarves.

GLJ started in embryonic form back in Wales, then took shape once Michael left his native Porthcawl, Wales, and moved to London in 1981. The embryonic band was named Slavaryan, says Michael, "because of the bands like Joy Division at the time. We were playing around with the idea of the Slavs and the Aryans, the conflict of the races, we liked the idea of the duality of it. And it was dark, the Nazi nonsense, that was Joy Division's influence. We got rid of that name though, because we thought it was too dark."

Jay and a friend, guitarist Ian Hudson, also made their way to London around this time, but they didn't stay long, returning to Wales, where Jay continued songwriting. Michael, meanwhile, had met drummer James Chater - whose grandmother owned the house where Led Zeppelin's Led Zeppelin IV and Houses Of The Holy were recorded. "When I was a child, Led Zeppelin were gods to me," Michael confides "We ran into Jimmy Page there once, I didn't speak to him, it freaked me out; that kind of synchronicity is just too weird"

Michael completed the rhythm section with bassist Steve Radwell, but a guitarist was more difficult to find. London, at that point, was a really interesting time, after the Clash and all that. Michael explains, "it was really wide open. You played with anyone that was interesting in any way, and it really broke down a lot of barriers." So, a myriad of guitarists came and went, even a reggae-loving rasta.

By this time, Jay and Ian Hudson had returned to London, sharing an apartment in Pimlico with Michael, and with Jay having been a constant, if unspoken, presence in the band, even during his absence in Wales, Hudson's recruitment into the group completed the puzzle. Now all they needed was a name.

It was Jay who came up with Gene Loves Jezebel, one of the few things both twins agree upon. The pair were already attracting attention, even before GLJ took the stage, and a local film maker wanted to include them in a movie he was shooting.

"So this filmmaker's introduced to me," Jay elaborates, "and he thinks I said my name was Jezebel - my Welsh accent, I don't know. It wasn't like I was going swanning around calling myself Jezebel! But it was just funny. We were aware of Bauhaus and Killing Joke wearing all black, so I thought we'll be totally colorful, we'll go the exact opposite way; we won't have a one word name, we'll have a long name."

"Gene is the thing with Gene Vincent. Mike broke his leg (he was a brilliant soccer player - he could have played for Wales, he was absolute genius, still is), and he was limping around for a little bit, like Gene Vincent. And then one of my friends, Steve Davis, noticed that even though Michael and I got into these huge arguments, in the end we always came in on each other's side. If you can imagine what the two of us against you must be like… nasty. He said, 'You guys just love each other, you always stick together', so I just went, 'oh' Michael loves Jay, Gene Loves Jezebel."

It was all very spur of the moment, decided the day the poster was being drawn up for the group's live debut at the prestigious annual Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) Rock Week. GLJ was born. Melody Maker journalist Steve Sutherland caught this first show, and immediately started championing their cause Then they came to the attention of the independent Situation 2, who offered them a contract before they'd even played their third show.

Gene Loves Jezebel debuted with the "Shaving My Neck" single.

"That was an accident in itself, because what should have been the single, was the B-side," Michael laughs "It's really interesting stuff, it was Melody Maker's Single Of the Week because it was so out there, so cool. But Situation 2 put two of our earlier demos on there, and a really ugly demo called 'Shaving My Neck', which Jay and I are pretty embarrassed by. But the Goths of course absolutely thought it was the greatest thing they'd ever heard."

Soon after, GLJ underwent a confusing series of lineup changes. Chater left, to be replaced at various times by fellow Welshman Richard Hawkins and former Associate John Murphy. "John was an absolutely phenomenal drummer," Michael enthuses, "and the most eccentric human being on earth." Which is why Hawkins oftimes took his place.

Juliane Regan, who later went on to form All About Eve, stepped briefly into the band, providing backing vocals, piano, and occasionally bass. Around this period Albi DeLuca, whom Michael calls "a really gifted guitar player," also joined, at which point Hudson shifted to bass, although Radwell still occasionally played with the band as well.

Somehow, miraculously out of this confusion, GLJ returned to the studio and recorded their next single, April, 1983's "Screaming For Emmalene" - with screams courtesy of band friend Kymille Chambers (also Jay's girlfriend at the time).

With material like this, it was obvious why the band were so appealing to the Gothic crowd during this time. The dark guitar riffs droned and shimmered like specters, with obvious nods to the Banshees, the melody was strong, yet also shrouded in stygian gloom.

"Yeah, that definitely tied into the more Positive Punk, Gothy stuff in England," Michael agrees.

That tie was further strengthened by a tour with Goth greats X-Mal Deutschland. However, because of personal problems, Regan did not accompany GLJ, although she did rejoin them in the studio for a Radio One session, recorded for the David Jensen show on June 30, 1983. There they performed stellar versions of the still unreleased "Sticks And Stones," "Upstairs" (which reappeared on the Promise album) and their upcoming new single, "Bruises" (Regan left the band soon after, and did not take part in the single's recording nor their debut album.)

In September, the group returned to the BBC to record their first John Peel session. This time, the band showcased songs off the upcoming album, "Pop Tarantula," "Shower Me With Brittle Punches," "Screaming For Emmalene" and another rendition of "Upstairs". (By this time, DeLuca was gone, and Hudson had returned to guitar. Radwell remained, at least for the Peel session, and with his departure, Steve Marshall [Woodentops, Specimen] joined.)

In October, GLJ's debut album, Promise, hit the shelves. It opened with the powerful "Upstairs", a pure early Gothic offering: ominous, driving, and atmospheric. The aura shifts for "Bruises", which had the guitar parts re-cut with Hudson, then swings back for "Pop Tarantula".

The album centers around the nine-minute epic of "Screaming For Emmalene"/ "Scheming", and this version of "Emmalene" also featured new guitar work. "Emmalene" ends in a bloodcurdling scream, and then up comes the specters of "Scheming". Melody dips in and out, the guitar drones and soars, only the rhythm section keeps the song from spinning out of control.

"Bread From Heaven" is even more experimental, sparse instrumentation and spoken word segments combine to create a haunting beauty. "Influenza", in contrast, incorporates tribal drumming, acoustic guitar, and lush keyboards - a sound that at a later date Ian Astbury's Death Cult would make their own. "Wraps And Arms" is equally groundbreaking, a slow, brooding ballad, which provides the antecedents for a thousand later darkwave bands. "Shower Me With Brittle Punches" picked up the pace, and shifted slightly towards pop. The album closes with the Goth-rock kick of "Psychological Problems", and its stirring guitar lines.

Although Promise's antecedents are clear, GLJ's disparate influences and their truly unique vocals immediately made an impact. The album did well, and the band's profile was growing as swiftly as their fan base, at which point the group underwent yet another lineup shift. John Murphy became "too crazy," according to Michael, and left the band for good. Thus, GLJ now comprised the twins, Hudson, Marshall and Hawkins.

And it was this lineup that in January, 1984, flew to NYC to record four songs with Beggars Banquet labelmate John Cale. They had recently opened for him at London's 'Victoria Venue' and the Welshman was suitably impressed

"That was one of the trippiest, scariest, most exhilarating experiences of my life," adds Michael. "I was the only one sober in New York, which tells you everything. It was our introduction to the netherworld."

Unfortunately, the weather was more arctic than that. In fact, a snowstorm grounded Marshall's flight for two days, and, by the time he finally arrived in New York City, it was too late. Pressed for time, Jay had filled in on bass in his stead! But in a way it didn't matter, for the recording never saw the light of day.

"The simple answer is that Beggars [Banquet, parent to Situation 2] didn't think it was right for release," Jay explains "We can't be objective, but we love listening to that stuff, because we both have such warm memories of the experience."

"It was a tragedy," Michael continues, "we tried to pick those tracks up for a comp, but I think Beggars had wiped all of them or lost them. Typical Beggars Banquet, absolutely, utterly incompetent."

At any rate, the band returned with the final single to be culled from Promise, in March, 1984, the stunning "Influenza," and in May the "Shame" single hit the shops. It proved how quickly GLJ were maturing. The song seamlessly grafted gothic roots to a pop/rock song.

By the time GLJ embarked on tour, they were sporting yet another new member. Richard Hawkins had departed, and Marcus Gilvear was brought in as his replacement.

"He was one of the most popular members of the band," Michael enthuses. "He's not the greatest drummer, but everyone loved him."

GLJ returned to the studio and began recording new songs. They cut two versions of "Always A Flame", one with John Brand, which was never released, and another with Cockney Rebel Steve Harley. Some other tracks were done as well, but there wasn't enough for a record, so nothing was released.

However, the Harley version of "Flame" was handed to a fanzine compilation, as the band considered it too commercial and poppy for a full release. Needless to say, in this case Beggars can be choosers, and the label was far from pleased with the band's unwillingness to release the song as a single. "So Beggars said the hell with you, and that was it, our careers were definitely on hold for a long time," Michael explains.

"We'd been through a lot of weird stuff," Jay elaborates. "Ian wasn't doing very well. It was a very weird period, we didn't realize at the time that Ian was having severe mental problems. We pissed off the BBC, because we'd come for a session and Ian had fired Steve Marshall (who was eventually replaced with Peter Rizzo), so we didn't have a bassist, and I had to fill in. We weren't in great shape basically."

"That final Peel session was a complete mess," Michael mourns. We had told them that we weren't ready, that we couldn't do it. But they wouldn't allow us to reschedule, they accused us of being unprofessional. That's why the BBC would never play us, because we pissed them off. The whole thing was a disaster."

That Peel session was recorded on May 12, 1984, and included ramshackle versions of "Shame", "Waves" (which would eventually metamorphis into "The Immigrant") and "Five Below" (which has never otherwise seen the light of day). But it's clear the band were far from fit, as Jay notes. "Beggars weren't happy with us. The Cale stuff hadn't come through, the Harley stuff hadn't come through, John Brand hadn't worked out, we're spending all this money and nothing was happening."

"Eventually I went back in," Michael concludes, "and begged [them] to please let us make a record. They said, 'If you do it for a few thousand pounds,' and I said, yes, whatever."

"There was an A&R guy there, Terry Hollingsworth," Jay adds, "who just kept pushing for us, and he called [producer] John Leckie [Simple Minds, XTC, the Adverts] up, so he worked with us."

The result was the Immigrant album.

"In my opinion," Michael states, "that was our best work up to that point. It's my favorite record, for whatever reason, because it was a real triumph of will over circumstance, wasn't it?"

Regardless of that particular morass, Immigrant was the natural continuation from Promise. The record opens with the problematic "Always A Flame," now recorded for the third time, and finally brought to fruition. It was well worth the wait, a shimmering, shuddering Goth-pop masterpiece. Under Leckie's ministrations, GLJ were well on the way to wedding together their dark experimental mental sound with purer pop. This was particularly true of "Shame," which would be GLJ's next single. Deeply emotional, shrouded, yet ringing with an almost stadium guitar sound, "Shame" heralded the band's upcoming shift in direction.

In contrast, "Stephen," is a thunderous slow tempo number, with a hint of C&W. It would've been perfect for the soundtrack of Dracula Meets Billy The Kid! The title track returned to the classic Jezzie Goth sound; an unforgettable melody direct from the crypt.

And then there's "Cow," all dark, jangly guitars, injected with a Celtic folk aura a bit reminiscent of early U2 (both bands proudly displayed their Celtic roots in their formative years), and a rousing anthemic chorus. "Cow" was dancing pixies weaving black magic spells. Deservedly, the song was released as a single in early 1985.

"Worth Waiting For," was an upbeat pop-rocker, with hints of shadow, brightened by a big guitar sound. In contrast, "The Rhino Plasty" was a chuttering, stuttering number - Led Zep in Jezzieland. "Deep South Wale" was equally creative, guitar drones collide with an intricate rhythm, as the melody swirls across the song, driven by both the lead and backing vocals. The album concludes with the beautiful, atmospheric ballad, "Coal Porter".

There's no way to know how many exist, but on some copies of Immigrant, "Desire" makes an untoward appearance. To add to the confusion, the cassette (like the other US formats of Immigrant) included "Bruises" as a bonus track, but doesn't bother to list it on the sleeve. And just to make matters even worse, "Cow" does indeed appear, but in the wrong place, and thus it appears to be under a different name - and all that doesn't even take in to account the deliberate misinformation GLJ included on the record sleeve. Although Gilvear is credited, it was actually Chris Bell who played drums on the album. Band politics said Gilvear got the glory and Bell received a thank you.

With the release of Immigrant, GLJ climbed up the musical ladder, quickly climbing from clubland to venues holding eight to ten thousand people. The Astons were ecstatic, but Hudson was having serious problems that had little to do with the band's success. "He was doing weird things, wandering off and stuff," Michael explains, so, I went to check out some guitar players. I checked out [ex-Rich Kid] Steve New, but he was a bigger basket case than Ian! He's a really beautiful creature, and he would've been great for the band, but…

"But James (Stevenson) was playing guitar with him. I thought he was a good guitar player, then I kind of forgot about it. Then James turned up on TV and I knew my management knew him. So I kept it in the back of my mind, if Ian didn't work out, I'd give this guy a call." That band, incidentally, was Hot Club, and besides Steve New, the lineup boasted former Pistol bassist Glen Matlock, and ex-Clash drummer Terry Chimes.

GLJ went off to tour America hoping the situation with Hudson would improve. It didn't. In fact, it got worse. "Ian had a nervous breakdown, cut his wrists, and tried to jump out of a 16th-floor window," Michael continues. That's what my song "Sorry" (from his solo Why Me, Why This, Why Now album) is about. It's my apology to this girl, a friend of Ian's, because I know she's held this grudge, blaming me for Ian's emotional state.

"Anyway, it was getting ridiculous by this point, Ian doesn't even know what songs he's playing. So I said, 'Ian's got to go home, he's just too sick'. I called up my management in England and said get James Stevenson on a plane. And they did."

James Stevenson began his musical career at 17 in Chelsea, a second stringer, first wave punk band. From there he moved on to play with Kim Wilde, and scratch up another hit single, "Kids In America". And from there, it was on to the post-punk supergroup Hot Club.

So it's perhaps not surprising that Stevenson knew little about the Gothic Gene Loves Jezebel. In fact, the guitarist hadn't even heard their new album yet. "I got on the plane and put on a tape of 'Immigrant'," the guitarist recalls, "and the first thing I thought was... 'Oh my God, what is this?' It took a few more listens before he packed his parachute back up.

"He learned about three songs and went straight into a 60-date tour of America," Jay states with awe.

"James came out," Michael elaborates, "and learned four or five songs. What we did during the first part of the tour was play the same songs and just exchanged the lyrics. Then a few shows in, we got everything down.

Amazingly, considering the situation, the tour was a smashing success. American label interest was intense, and GLJ soon inked a licensing deal with Geffen.

GLJ returned from America and began juggling recording with British shows, TV appearances, and interviews. And in November, 1985, their new single, "Desire," was released and entered the UK chart. Recorded before the tour, with Hudson on guitar, "Desire" marked Michael's debut as a producer (he co-produced the song alongside Alvin Clarke) and Jay explains, "Michael arranged it." Originally the lyric had 'What you get is what you seek' with 'desire' going at the same time. But he spotted movements which were really good, which is what he's really good at. He'd be a great producer, because he can actually see what we all hear in the end, but in the middle of a song, I can't do that." (The flipside featured the old Steve Harley mix of "Always A Flame," which had previously been available only on a fanzine compilation.)

In March, 1986, GLJ's follow-up single, "The Sweetest Thing," hit the shops, and it was apparent that GLJ were undergoing a dramatic change in sound. They'd recruited yet another new producer, Gary Lyons, and he was obviously bringing out their pop side… and something else as well.

Michael won the lead vocal role, and that initiated another rash of sibling rivalry "I got angry because I wanted to sing that," Jay recalls. "It was my song, and I ended up doing backing vocals, which pissed me off immensely. But we were always competing for those places."

Although this was Stevenson's recorded debut, he was not included in the cover photo, because at the time the artwork was being readied, he was already thinking of leaving the band. Thus an understandably peeved Michael insisted on him not being included in the photo shoot.

Next came the single, "Heartache," a rousing song, primarily written by Michael, with an insistent sing-along chorus. The singles were tasters for the band's forthcoming album, Discover, yet the record was recorded amidst a host of obstacles. "Discover we recorded all over the place," Jay recalls. "We were literally grabbing a few hours in the Roadhouse in London, a few hours in Rockfield, a few hours where ever we could find, basically, in London and Wales.

"[Producer] Gary Lyons started in Ibiza, then London, then he went to Ibiza and had a heart attack. We had to get Mark Dearnley, our engineer, to finish it; we had different engineers helping as out. It's amazing the album sounds so cohesive actually, because it is thrown together, the songs were almost all written, but… "White Horse" and "Sweetest Thing", for example, Gary Lyons has a heart attack, so the engineer recorded them."

But Jay's right, Discover is very cohesive, which is indeed miraculous considering its recording history. Kicking off with "Heartache," the mood continues with "Over The Rooftops," Stevenson's guitar taking center stage, and all a galaxy removed from the darker drones and jangly Celtic influences that the Jezzies had previously proclaimed their own.

"Kick" conjured up some of their older, darker aura, wrapped in a bittersweet ballad, while "A White Horse" has a gloomy center and the odd nod to the Banshees' Steve Severin. "Wait And See" managed to blend a dark Gothesque verse with a bright sing-along chorus. This was GLJ at their best, combining elements of the night, while still giving Stevenson room for his leads.

"Desire" still stood out even amongst such heavy hitting competition, of course, and it stood out even more on later US copies. Once again, there was a foul-up on the American end, and initial copies of the album featured the single version. Subsequent pressings, however, would boast a re-cut version. But we'll return to that shortly; in the meantime, there was the album's seminal moment, the magnificent "Beyond Doubt". Stevenson's guitar work imbues the haunting melody with ethereal lightness and paradoxically haunting depth. The yearning lead vocals add to the song's power, while the soaring falsetto back-ups send shivers down one's spine. (An earlier version of the song had already appeared on the flip of the "Heartache" 12" single as "Before Doubt".)

Even the rousing "Sweetest Thing" paled somewhat in comparison. "Maid Of Sker" was a return to the Jezzies' earliest sounds, a modern descendent of "Shaving My Neck". In contrast, "Brand New Moon" was more modern GLJ, still shadowed, but very upbeat, Stevenson's guitar flicking in and out.

Unbeknownst to both the group and their fans, Discover was to be a huge turning point in GLJ's career. For a heartbeat, the band came together in a perfect wedding of all parties, sounds and styles. Stadium guitar, Bauhausian experimentation, pop and Goth all combined to make a truly unforgettable album.

What ruined it in the Astons' eyes was Beggars' inclusion of a bonus live album, Glad To Be Alive, with initial copies of Discover.

"We were having trouble getting our songs onto the radio," Michael elaborates, "and this was included obviously to promote the record. They just brought up a mobile and said they were taping us live. It wasn't a bad show, but it wasn't one of our best shows either. It wasn't mixed or anything, they just put it out."

Eight songs were pulled from this March, 1986, Nottingham show. And although it's quite a decent album, as live records go, it certainly could have used some post-recording production.

"But we were on tour," Jay adds, "so we couldn't go mix it. But rather than wait, they just threw it out with Discover.

The bonus album probably did help sales a bit, and for the first time, GLJ had an album in the British national Top 40, as the record came to rest at number 32.

Their next single, the re-cut "Desire" would do even better. The original version, featuring Hudson on guitar and co-produced by Michael, was exquisite. And although there was a pop edge, it was still very dark. Afterwards, the label gave the band the opportunity to re-record it with their new lineup

"People hadn't noticed how good "Desire" was when I wrote it," Jay recalls "We wanted to re-record it, Geffen wanted us to use Pete Walsh, so we did our old tack of 'we'll do a single with you and see how it goes'. He did a good job."

Indeed he did. What Walsh did was turn a brilliant darkwave gem into a '80s pop diamond. And it was this version of the song that should have appeared on Discover. Stevenson pulled out all the stops in a series of blazing licks, riffs, and leads. But at the same time, the addition of electronic drums pushed the song into the New Romantic/Wave world as well.

In fact, the drum sound is very reminiscent of the Thompson Twins. But that's not surprising, because by the time GLJ had entered the studio, Gilvear was gone, and Chris Bell was back! The single would soar to #7 on the American dance charts.

But their sudden improved fortunes didn't placate Michael's ever-growing doubts about the change of musical direction the rest of the band seemed intent on pursuing. And Bell's reappearance only made matters worse.

Michael explains, "it was difficult for me, because I was trying to aim the visuals between Rizzo and Bell, who were essentially very middle class, bourgeois boys, in my opinion, so they couldn't see where Michael Aston was coming from. Neither could Jay, because Jay's pretty puritan about it all too. Things have to be harmonies, a bridge has to go there, a chorus has to go there. But I come from a more Patti Smith position, where the emotions, the delivery, what you convey, is far more important than the sum of the parts.

"I'm the shaman. Jay's always saying, 'Why can't you stand still?' But I don't care if I look like Isadora Duncan on LSD, I have to express my emotions. I came from a performance standpoint, working at the I.C.A., seeing artists, it's very powerful to me seeing artists, seeing an individual dance to music, and express."

"But I always blamed the problems of my relations with Jay on Jay and myself. I love James, he's a dear, sweet, wonderful human being, he's one the kindest, fairest people I know. But he was no good for Michael Aston."

"I remember sitting down with James once," Michael remembers, "and being shocked that he didn't like Bob Dylan. I don't care what anyone says, he's an incredible lyricist. Not to understand that is like saying, 'Picasso doesn't matter.' I'm not saying Dylan's as good as Picasso, there's a lot better poets, but the fusion of the music and the delivery and whatever else, you have to appreciate it. But James does love the Velvet Underground, which I never could understand."

To be fair, Stevenson did get Michael's need for dark guitar on occasion. The perfect example is found on "Beyond Doubt," which the guitarist co-wrote with Michael. But to make that song, compromise was necessary, as the recording itself boasts. Certainly Michael would have preferred his song not to fade out with Stevenson's powerful lead, while the guitarist would have probably preferred to play the whole song with sonics equal to the ending.

"Philosophically we differed," Michael elaborates, "so retrospectively, James was probably the worst decision, certainly from Jay's and my position as a working partnership. As far as Jay going on and doing his own thing…it worked really well for him."

"Musical differences" is an industry euphemism for a variety of sins from "the guitarist is too drunk to play live anymore, to "everyone hates the drummer, he's got to go." For GLJ, however, musical differences meant precisely that - differences in how the members perceived the music developing. And they were tearing the group apart. For who among us would want to compromise our creativity on a daily basis? And that was the only way that the band could have remained together.

By the time GLJ entered the studio to record their next album, House Of Dolls, Michael was "desperately unhappy. Which is why I walked out of the band. What James did for me, and I love James as a person, but I think he really narrowed our vision, he leant himself to the more poppy side of Jay which is only one side of him really. In my opinion, it took away the art of GLJ, completely marginalized me, coming from purely an artistic, performance standpoint."

Jay partially agrees that Stevenson did influence the group to become more pop oriented. "I'd play something, and he'd use his sound. I come from a very, believe it or not, non-musical background as far as the way I play, I'm always looking for what angers. James, and Pete did in his way too, Pete made GLJ very cohesive I thought, very strong rhythmically as a counterpoint to what we were doing."

"James…did pull us slightly in a poppier sense, he doesn't come from the same angles as Mike and I. Some people would argue the genius of GLJ was the stuff I did with James, other people would argue the dark spaces. Hey, "Stephen" is the most classic song I've ever written, it's very dark, but there's great beauty in that, and vulnerability, but there's vulnerability in the poppier stuff too. My point is, you try to recreate where your head is at in that space, and you can look to the real dark quality or you can try to breathe, stop yourself from hanging yourself, and hang onto something that glows, a spark."

"If people don't love things James and I did together, it's because we have this love of melody. They want to hear a story of how someone was raped that night, and to them that is important. To me there's another side to it to, which is the genius of 'the pop single'."

Today Michael places most of the blame for GLJ's conflicts on Stevenson. But that's him looking back with hindsight; back then the battles were not so much between Michael and the guitarist, but Michael and Jay.

GLJ until this point was the twins, with a constantly shifting lineup, so Stevenson certainly didn't have the power to single handedly change GLJ's direction. It was nowhere near that cut and dried, and to an extent, the change was being foisted from outside the band entirely.

"Michael's forgotten the pressures we were under. The [label] spent a lot of money with [producer] Jimmy Iovine. And if they don't like [something we do], they just throw it out." He's referring to the fact that Iovine threw out the group's preferred mix of their next single, "The Motion Of Love", and cut his own, which the band hated.

With this lineup of Stevenson, Bell and Rizzo, for the first time musicianship became a part of GLJ's live show. It was something that certainly hadn't happened in the early days, and while Jay may insist that he wasn't swanning around calling himself Jezebel (although an early interview in ZigZag referred to the twins as Gene and Jezebel throughout), he was certainly swanning about the stage dressed like Jezebel. Both he and Michael often appeared on-stage in dresses, and when they weren't swanning, they were screaming.

Their live shows were always an event, not because of the musical showmanship, but for the twins constantly trying to show one another up. Whichever Aston had the lead would find himself pushed out of the way when it was time for the back-up vocal, and then elbow his way back out front. Sometimes they'd share... sort of... and each would try to sing louder than the other.

Usually it was all good-natured, but not always. The jostling and elbowing led to shoving, which led to pushing, and more screaming. It was totally electrifying. And if those early lineups are all a blur today, it's because nobody watching the stage noticed anyone but the twins. They merely provided a ramshackle accompaniment to the main event… the battling Astons.

"It was a battle for the center stage, precisely" Jay agrees. But the battles were now becoming much more serious.

You know, the original plan was that I was going to leave the band," Jay confides. "Mike picked up the wrong signals and thought we didn't want him in the band; this is one of the ironies of it all. So suddenly I went through all this emotional stuff, 'I don't love you anymore.' And then suddenly I was stuck with this band that were totally on my side, or just picked me because they thought I was the better horse at the time."

Michael quit during the album sessions, and for a time, Gene Loves Jezebel came very close to extinction.

"We were going to change the name of the band," Jay reflects. "But corporations don't like that." And in his heart, Jay agreed. "Mike can see the value, I'm sure he can see that, the patent value of a name."

Maybe he could, but still Michael insists, "my only regret about me leaving the band was that they carried on using the name. Walking out of GLJ during House of Dolls was a really painful period for me, my last choice. I'd never have gone on tour. What they should have done, but they got pressure from Geffen, was change the name. House of Dolls is not GLJ. I'm only on two songs, ['Message' and 'Up There'], it's not a GLJ record."

No, it was a Peter Walsh record. Having made the grade with "Desire," he was now brought in to produce the album. It was another choice that Michael vehemently fought and lost.

"I wanted the guy that did the Cure at that time [Dave Allen], or someone off the wall like Leckie, but the rest of the band wanted Walsh. So much for democracy."

Not surprisingly, there were problems immediately. Walsh had already given one of the group's songs a commercial, slick, guitar driven edge; would he do any less with the album? Of course not.

"The thing about House Of Dolls, none of us in the band like it," Jay agrees. We love the songs; the way we do it live, whatever version of the band we've had live, those songs...to me we're a great band live. We don't think the album captures the songs. "Twenty Killer Hurts", "Suspicion", "Every Door", we didn't like the production on it, it's too slick, we didn't feel good about it at the time.

"We were fucked with a lot, and don't forget the era we were in, the producers ruled literally. It's the same thing with "Gorgeous", they cut things about. The song doesn't become clear anymore. These things are frustrating. Suddenly we were both forced to sing things we didn't want to sing almost. By the time "Motion Of Love" had come back from [re-mixing in] L.A., it had turned into this horrible little song. If I played you the original, you wouldn't recognize it, it's Joy Division; and now it comes back a poppy nothing."

House Of Dolls was a commercial success, however. In one fell swoop, Walsh turned GLJ from a band whose brilliance lay in blending pop and Goth into something truly unique, into a pop-rock monster. Whether this was a good thing merely depends on your point of view and musical taste.

The band sounds absolutely phenomenal. The rhythm section is exceptionally tight, and powers the songs along like a metronome. However, there's not a single Gothic drone, Darkwave jangle or Celtic hum to be found on House Of Dolls. It's hard to believe this is the same band that had created Discover, never mind Immigrant or Promise.

Neither is it any surprise that the album contained a slew of singles that would become college/dance hits. The first was Jimmy Iovine's baby, "The Motion Of Love." There's no denying that it's slick pop, but in a way that's its beauty. Yeah, it's a bit cheesy too, but that just adds to the charm. Like all perfect pop songs, it sticks in your head immediately, and no matter how hard you try, you will hum it forever. At least it retains the Jezzies' trademark yelps and screams, which just adds to its glory. You hate yourself for loving it (at least the Goths did), but you just can't stop yourself. It remains a classic, and is enjoying new life at New Wave revival dance clubs across the country.

"Gorgeous," was next up. A sweeping, lush, lovesong, guaranteed to hook you at first listen with its chorus of "You're so gorgeous baby, yes you are."

The story of a guy out for a good time in a small town does indeed get a little muddled, as Jay noted. But in pop terms, nobody noticed nor cared. All the kids were hearing was "You're so gorgeous baby," and every girl's eyes shone in hopes some guy would say that to her. And inevitably many guys were happy to give the line a go.

In the States, Geffen decided to go a different route. Although they had released "Motion Of Love" as a single in 1987, for the follow-up in the new year they chose "Suspicion". One does wonder about the psychology of a label that assumes kids would turn their noses up at a love song, preferring paranoia instead! "Suspicion" does have a slightly darker edge, and the hook line, "Of course I love you, you know I love you," but probably the draw for Geffen was Stevenson's guitar, which is far more prominent here than on "Gorgeous."

In general, Jay may have been unhappy with the album's production, but not the pop direction the songs were taking. But it's easy to see why Michael was at his wits' end and had walked out. But the bond between him and Jay wasn't severed yet, and reluctantly he returned for the tour, and the tension between the twins just kept mounting. The battles raged offstage and on, as the pair battled for center stage and attention, each trying to outdo the other. North America, South America, Japan and finally Europe; the pair were exhausted and frustrated. None of their problems had been resolved, and now how could they be? Michael moved to L.A., but Jay remained behind in London.

In late 1988, the band began writing their new album, or trying to, working with producer Steve Brown. The situation was becoming excruciating. The group took a six-month break, but even that was no cure. Finally Michael up and quit one more time.

The split was wrenching for both twins. Michael elaborates, "You have to remember, we spent every waking moment together up to that point, did everything together. It was something we needed to do, he needed to be away from me, I needed less to be away from him, I was more comfortable with our roles as they were, but he wasn't. Who knows? He is the younger twin."

And now the younger twin would have the stage to himself. But having "won" it, did he really want it? Was there any thought to just stopping, what with all the pain it had caused?

"It was a difficult thing, but to me it was the songs. I sang 'Upstairs,' I sang all these classic cuts, as far as I was concerned. For good or bad, when he sang, he was singing on things I wanted to sing on. We were two singers, we were both Leos, and yes, we both wanted to have the lead vocal."

In the spring of 1989, GLJ began work on their album anew. This is Jay's description of that time: "We go to San Francisco, we work with a guy called Paul Fox who sucks [but has gone on to work with Phish, Sky Cries Mary and Sweet 75]. It cost us a fortune, because we ended up having to rescue the album basically with Tim Palmer (back in London), re-recorded bits, re-tracked bits. It ended up being so much pain to record; we'd just come through the war with Mike, with House Of Dolls, and then we had another war doing that album. And then there was the [San Francisco] earthquake in the middle of the damn thing, we should've taken that as a sign."

But he also acknowledges that Kiss Of Life "does have some brilliant songs; when we recorded the demos, we thought we'd made our best album. You'd just die, it's fucking awesome, to use a cliche, but it is; it's a beautiful album."

Typically, Beggars couldn't leave well enough alone, and once again began tampering with the band's music. Jay's still angry over the treatment "Evening Star" received. "'Evening Star' live is awesome! Why would a producer try to change it? It should be a very brutal song, and they took all the anger out of them. So that was a nightmare."

Equally galling was "Jealous," released in June, 1990, as a taster for the upcoming album.

"'Jealous' is not the song you hear on the record," Jay seethes, "it tells a whole story. There's a verse that was completely cut out of the song, that goes something like 'Why do you hang around with that piece of shit?' It's so essential to the song, and now it sounds like something drummed together into a pop single, when actually it was a very long piece."

But "Jealous" also perfectly illustrates the profound change both Michael's departure and Stevenson's influence was having on GLJ's sound. The song opens with a crashing guitar riff, and the sonics are kicked up even further when the bass and drums smash in.

Although the guitars were integral to House Of Dolls, they were restrained to a certain extent. But with Michael gone, Stevenson had no one to hold him back. Previously, the twins vocals were the focal for the band's sound, now Stevenson's guitar would take over that role. Of course Jay remained the frontman, especially on-stage, but the rest of the band could not produce the backing vocals that Jay and Michael had so effortlessly provided for each other.

And it was those dual vocals that made GLJ unique. Now the band were just another group... well not just another group, because they still wrote great songs. But they'd lost their sense of being special.

Which doesn't in any way suggest that Kiss Of Life was a mediocre album - in fact it was a great album. Jay remains an exceptional songwriter of amazing breadth of vision. From the powerful "Jealous" to the haunting title track ballad, the singer was capable of many moods and could musically express them all. "Why Cant I?" is truly stygian, and with a different guitarist would've been a Gothic masterpiece. In Stevenson's hands, it's a darkrock classic beauty; while "I Die For You" follows that line of thinking even further, with a perfect Gothic opening, all jingly, jangly keyboards, and shadowy atmospheres. The song is a darkwave classic lost in a perfect pop-rock album.

Even the purer pop of "It'll End In Tears" still has smudges around the edges, while Stevenson's guitar is pure jubilation. On "Syzgy," Jay swings from moody spoken word to upbeat chorus in a heartbeat, and is given perfect support by Stevenson and Paul Fox's keyboards.

The second single off the album, "Tangled Up In You," hints at a C&W twang, then breaks into a catchy, sing-along chorus. "Two Shadows" gives Stevenson to prove that he hasn't lost the knack of beautiful, subtle guitar work. As for "Evening Star," it had all the makings of a dance hit; driving rhythm, soaring guitar, and the most emotive vocals on the album.

With all the interest the two singles were notching up, GLJ should've been on the road touring America. Instead their projected outing with Concrete Blonde fell through, and they performed only a handful of shows in the U.S.

"I finally found out why we didn't tour. James [Stevenson] ran into Johnette from Concrete Blonde and asked her. Apparently she'd read somewhere that I slagged Concrete Blonde off. One, I never do that in interviews; two, which really pissed me off, I actually loved the album Bloodletting, so I'd been looking forward to the tour. But she pulled out of the tour, and we ended up touring Europe instead. Yet "Jealous" was like #1 in the modern rock chart, it was a huge hit single. It's just our fate, things being like that."

Still, things were looking up on the European end. GLJ were given an opening slot for two sold-out shows with David Bowie, at Milton Keynes in front of 60,000 people. Then it was on to a two-week tour with Billy Idol before bouncing back to the States to play that year's New Music Seminar.

It was during this period, in 1991, that Chris Bell left again. In his stead came Robert Adam. "He was our Welsh connection," Jay laughs. He actually came to the band via AC/DC's Chris Slade. Adam was visiting when Slade's wife heard Bell had quit GLJ. As she was a Jezzie fan, and a friend of Stevenson's girlfriend, she put her house-guest in touch with the band.

By the time Adam joined GLJ he'd already made his mark playing in a wealth of bands, including Promise, and one of Peter Green's comeback bands - and there was to be a certain synchronicity there, when Jay subsequently recorded a track for a Green tribute album.

Unfortunately, Adam couldn't have arrived at a worse time. For if the Fates were involved in torpedoing GLJ's U.S. career, they were merely setting the stage for Nemesis, who arrived sword in hand for Heavenly Bodies.

"The same kind of things were happening again," Jay explains, "they put a sleeve on it that really offended me. We didn't pick that, they just delivered it, and said, 'here's the sleeve.' The contract was such that yeah, we could stop a sleeve, but in the end they were all... I was so offended by that. All the photos inside, those were the pictures we took. Somehow they managed to get one and put a pizza behind it, or whatever they've done, and colored it. It looks absolutely awful, totally misrepresents what is ultimately a very sensitive album. But that was the fate of it."

The "they" in this case was no longer Beggars and Geffen, however, but GLJ's new label, Savage.

"We could have gone to Atlantic, but we decided to go to Savage. We needed the money, we were broke, and it was a lot of money, and they loved us to death. Then they sign David Bowie, go broke, and we get cut off in the middle of the tour again."

In the four years since Michael left the band, GLJ had managed just two American tours. Now they could only sit back and watch while their latest album disappeared as well.

"I think that Heavenly Bodies is our best album," Jay enthuses. "To me, it's a work of art. It has all these songs; "Break The Chain" is one of the best songs I've written, "Sweet Rain" is one of the grooviest things I've ever heard on the radio by surprise."

After the Paul Fox fiasco, GLJ asked Peter Walsh back to produce. It was a wise move, as he seemed to have the best understanding of their current direction. Walsh's clean production concentrated on the band's big guitar sound, but he also had a great ear for pop, and thus gave Heavenly Bodies a perfect pop-rock feel.

The album opened with "American Dreamer", a case in point. It's definitely rock based, but with a sharp pop edge. "Wild Horse", in contrast, is bass driven, and gave Rizzo the opportunity to prove what an excellent musician he is.

The first single, "Josephina", is classic Jezzie, and a link back to their earlier days. There's a hint of magic in the melody, accented by newcomer James Hallawell's keyboards. Then the band slip into the sparse, yet beautiful ballad "Any Anxious Colour." The mood changes slightly for the more upbeat "Break The Chain," filled with Stevenson's exquisite guitar lines and Jay's emotive vocals.

"Down" slips back towards rock, but in a darker mode, before returning to the melancholy ballad of "In A Lonely Place," a delicate serving of acoustic guitar and piano. From there the album flows into "Sweet Sweet Rain," a dark pop gem with a perfect chorus - part anthemic, part hook.

The chorus of "Rosary" is equally anthemic, but less pop, a perfect showcase for Stevenson's guitar. He shines even brighter on "Heavenly Body," where his sublime fretwork mixes with jangly power chords. The bittersweet melody, highlighted by the keyboards, is a wonder to behold. The album concludes with the haunting "Voice In The Dark."

Heavenly Bodies was a magnificent record, and should have been GLJ's biggest hit album to date. Instead it went down on the reef of Bowie's Black Tie White Noise. Savage literally sank their entire budget into the Thin White Duke, and when his record flopped, the label went belly up. So…

"I moved to NYC, because I wanted to find a place that was challenging for me," Jay says. "I struggled, I did things on my own, just me and a guitar. I moved back to London. I recorded "Heroine" [for the Gothic Masterpieces Volume Two] totally on my own, I did a song called "Vampire" for a soundtrack that didn't get used [but can he found on Gothic Masterpieces Volume One]."

He also appeared on the Rattlesnake Guitar Peter Green tribute album, fronting a band put together by the Viceroy label, and featuring the rock-jazz guitarist Larry Mitchell.

Meanwhile, Michael remained in L.A., and for a while, he pursued acting. Then he returned to music, put together a new band, Edith Grove, and released an eponymous album in 1993, on the small independent Avalanche label. The riff between he and Jay was slowly healing, and in fact, Stevenson was brought in to guest on a couple of tracks, while Jay dueted with his brother on "Cat Black Wizard's Hat", a scorching tribute to T. Rex. "Wheel", in contrast, is a wink and a nod to "All The Young Dudes," while "Majik," goes one step further, and is a sly wry reference to "Desire".

But not all of Michael's influences are so modern. You can take a Welsh boy out of the valleys, but you can't drain his Celtic blood. Thus, the dulcimer driven "Venus In Rags" is a medievalesque ballad, while "Kings Horsemen" is a rustic madrigal stomp, a folksong in the best British tradition. Seldom have mandolins been put to more raucous use.

As a whole, Edith Grove was a surprisingly well-rounded album, with just enough Jezzie past to satisfy the hardcore fan, while inviting in a whole new audience. But the past was still rushing towards him.

"Avalanche came to me and said, 'would GLJ do a Best of recording, with a couple of new tracks?' and I said, 'Yeah, why not?' I went back to London, and started working with James and Jay, and it was exactly the same thing. They came up with one of the worst songs of all times: "Body And Soul". James asked me to sing on it, and I said, 'I can't sing on it, because basically I think it's shit.' "No Sweat" I preferred, but I didn't love it. It's so tight, which is what I thought was wrong with the band anyway."

Here's Jay's take: "People were interested in getting us back together, and this is with all the woundings and everything. I know what it's like on-stage with Mike, it's easy it's a gas, but all the other stuff that goes with it.... He didn't like James' guitar playing, that didn't help. We had one great song that Mike didn't like the production of, which is fair, I don't either, I think it's too dry. But that's the way James did it, and he's in England, and I guess that was cool for the time. It wasn't uncomfortable, we had a nice time doing it, but it wasn't a big deal, it was never going to be easy touring; too much bad blood."

So much for the "reunion," then. But the ensuing album, From The Mouths Of Babes (Some Of The Best Of Gene Loves Jezebel) appeared in 1995, and included both new songs. 'No Sweat" is a rocker in an almost Humble Pie mode, while "Body And Soul" was dark blues meets Gothic swamp.

In a way, it's surprising that Michael preferred the rocker to the more atmospheric and moody "Body Of Soul". However, his own musical direction was starting to change, as became evident on his 1995 solo record, Why Me Why This Why Now.

"I dearly love the album, because it's so personal, and me being utterly loose and gentle." Michael's pensive mood fills the record with achingly beautiful songs, awash in emotion and heart-rending guitar, courtesy of former Slaughter and the Dogs/Edith Grove mainman Mick Rossi (former Jezzie Richard Hawkins provided drums). Only the rollicking "Rather Wine" and the more uptempo "Sorry" with its bittersweet melody and Jezziesque chorus, hint at the past. As apologies go, Ian Hudson's friend received one of the best.

'Why Me, Why This, Why Now' gave even greater voice to Michael's Celtic soul. Filled with evocative lyrics, and electrified by currents of energy running through all the songs, the album is a moody masterpiece.

Meanwhile, Stevenson was piecing together a GLJ double live album, In The Afterglow, which he released on his own Pink Gun Label. Disc one was recorded live at the Toronto Concert Hall, during the ill-fated House of Dolls tour in February, 1988, but while the actual recording is high quality and the band's playing throughout is quite excellent, the twins' vocals are definitely lacking in fire. However, it would've been impossible during that tour to have found either in peak form.

In contrast, the second disc was recorded in May, 1993, at First Avenue in Minneapolis. With the tension gone, the music and band shine, and Jay has total control of the stage and the audience.

At the same time, the twins were continuing to try and work together, and still attempting to Band-Aid over the wounds of the past.

"Jay and I did a demo together, but it was the same thing. Jay brought in the songs, I had the band, and he wanted to use my band [the Why Me lineup], but my band wasn't right for it. So, that wasn't going to work."

"So I called Jay in England, and know he's struggling, and say let's do a little tour together. Why not? It's been 15 years [since GLJ began]. James had been trying for five years to do a GLJ tour in America, saying 'We'll do all the hits,' but I really didn't want to do that. That's not a happy memory for me, working with Pete Rizzo, James Stevenson and Chris Bell. That's one of the most miserable times of my life - why would I want to work with you again?"

"So, I said to Jay, 'we're going to do this tour, but I'm going to put the band together'. I found this guitar player [Michael Ciravolo of Human Drama], and I think he's perfect for what I see of the band, which is far more dramatic, far more prosaic, there's a lot more breath and freedom. So Jay agreed, but the condition was, we don't use any other members of the band. We'll go out and play some of your solo songs, some of my solo songs, and GLJ stuff that we love, which is why we did some of the Immigrant songs, some off the first album, and that was it. And it turned into a three-month tour, and it was great to do."

"Originally, it was really hard," Jay notes. "You wouldn't believe the bullshit we've been through. Mike knew that more people would come if both of us played together; the idea was I was going to do five or six of my songs, and he'd do five or six of his songs, and we'd do some older Jezebel stuff together. Then he found that obviously they were offering 20 times the money for GLJ, and that raised a whole new can of worms, as you can imagine. A lot of people's emotions are involved with this, a lot of people sweated blood for GLJ."

"My problem was… well, I was the same as Mike, yeah, let's do it with fresh people, there's too much emotional baggage with everybody else. But once we started rehearsing, the agent sold a lot of these gigs as some kind of '80s flashback thing, and neither Mike nor I wanted to do that. But when the band were doing some of the stuff, certainly from Heavenly Bodies, GLJ stuff, obviously you can't replace Pete Rizzo, Robert Adam or James to do that stuff, because it's them. So if we're going to do it, we're going to do it with MC [Ciravolo] on guitar. Get somebody really young to do drums [Peter Parada], and a bass player [Yugoslavian native Slobo].

For the fans, the tour was an opportunity to catch up with the band. Some were there to witness the twins together again, others were there for the hits (and were left mildly disappointed), yet for every fan shouting for "Jealous" or "Desire," there was a counterpart shouting for "Shaving My Neck."

But those were the fans. The twins in contrast weren't there to push their own material or their old songs at all. They were there not so much to recapture the magic, but to finally work things out between themselves.

"The most important thing for me was for GLJ to be different from anything else on this planet," Michael begins. "When Jay was involved, the two of us, what we had was so unique, so rare, from where we were coming from, it was so honest, so painfully, primitively honest, it would knock people's heads off. As to what extent it would, I didn't know, but I knew it was really powerful. That was the vision of it, it was a remarkable thing on every level, it was incredible.

"Even to this day, I think Jay wrote far better things - from "Upstairs" to "Stephen" to "Cow" - the stuff was so powerful. But, Jay and I needed to work a lot of stuff out. I knew it would be a painful process. We both have such different perspectives of what occurred, but in there, there's the truth. We needed to do this, because we dearly love each other, we both needed to learn something from this. One thing I think we do together is quite majestic, whatever the pain and sorrow, it needs to be resolved."

Stage as therapy couch is an unusual concept, but GLJ was always an unusual band.

"Ironically enough, sometimes live on those gigs," Jay reflects, "Mike's singing my original lines, he changes one of the lyrics in the verses, which pisses me off. He had to do something to one of my songs! It's hard for me, because when I write these songs, contrary to what you might believe, even "Motion Of Love", I was in a very dark place when I'd written them."

So, the twins still pushed each other's buttons, changing lyrics, grabbing credit from each other, but positive things were happening as well.

"I found, singing with Michael on that tour, the song changed every night. That's the difference, we don't know what's going to happen, and that's exciting. There's so many complicated changes between us, one of the reasons why we didn't work together was self realization for both of us. The fact that I could stand in front of 60,000 people and sing something important to me, and not have everyone think that it was just a gimmick, the twins, whereas now I can see it is the art, the twins, it is this ongoing conversation we have together or lack of sometimes. But ultimately our power is enormous, and as much as we can hate each other sometimes, generally we're on each other's side.

Michael would agree, "What GLJ should be perceived as is the ongoing relationship of the bad twins. And that's why it's interesting, cathartic, whatever else. It's worth the pain, it would be a brilliant thing. We may have found the balance, I'm feeling much happier."

The summer of '97 brought them to Henley-on-Thames, England where they started working on a new album [which later became VII, for Robison Records], with the players from the '97 reunion tour.

After yet another falling out over musical (in)differences, Michael, who decided not to let go of the band a second time, set out on his own under the name Gene Loves Jezebel backed by the band he had put together for the reunion tour. Jay immediately filed a lawsuit over the rights to the Gene Loves Jezebel name.

Meanwhile, Jay's solo album, Unpopular Songs, was released through James Stevenson's Pink Gun label in 1998. A largely acoustic collection, it features some of Jay's finest-ever writing (and singing); standout cuts including the compulsively singable "Love Keeps Dragging Me Down," the delicate "Sister Caroline," and "Who Wants To Go To Heaven?". Familiar from the unplugged portion of the Jezebels' 1997 U.S. tours, the latter was originally written - at Anne Rice's request - for the Interview With The Vampire movie theme. Jezebel copyists Guns n' Roses eventually came up with something louder, but listening to the song now (while the movie credits play on the video!), the mood and the moment work perfectly together.

The Jezebels were also subjected to the remix treatment, courtesy of a collection entitled Desire on Cleopatra, with The Mission UK and Spahn Ranch amongst the acts getting to grip with the band's old favorites.

And now?

As a bitter court battle over the rights to the Gene Loves Jezebel name made its way through the courts, the twins returned to their own separate paths, both leading separate versions of Gene Loves Jezebel into combat.

Michael continued with the players which backed both brothers on the spring, 1997, tour - Micheal Ciravolo, Slobo Svrdlan and new drummer, Michael Brahm. They recorded a version of "All The Young Dudes" for a Cleopatra Records, David Bowie tribute album, Goth Oddity. They also recorded a 5 track E.P., Survive This and the critically acclaimed album, Love Lies Bleeding [Triple X Records, 1999] under the moniker, 'Michael Aston's Gene Loves Jezebel'.

Jay, on the other hand, reformed the Heavenly Bodies-era lineup and released the album VII [Robison Records, 1999], sans Michael's vocals from the original recording sessions. This was followed by Jay taking what he termed "the real Gene Loves Jezebel" on the road with The Mission UK and Mike Peters of The Alarm for the 'Resurrection Tour' in 1999 in support of the album. Jay also worked with Beggars Banquet on another chance to recall the originals, with a 'greatest hits' album, Voodoo Dollies (The Best of Gene Loves Jezebel), released in 2000. In early 2000, Jay released another solo effort titled, simply, Jezebel and played a few solo gigs in Europe as well as a few dates in Portugal as Gene Loves Jezebel with James, Peter and Chris.

Having two versions of the band recording and touring confused and deeply divided the loyal GLJ fan base into two camps - those in support of Jay, who felt Michael was trying to "steal" the Gene Loves Jezebel name; and those in support of Michael, who were partial to the darker art-rock of early albums such as Promise and Immigrant.

Ultimately, Michael won a decisive court ruling that gave him complete control and ownership of the Gene Loves Jezebel name "without prejudice".

After constant touring throughout the U.S. and trips to Mexico, Brazil, Canada and the U.K. in support of Love Lies Bleeding, Michael released the diverse and original album, Giving Up the Ghost [Triple X Records, 2001], a title that illustrated a new era and a shedding of old skins. New players Jason Powell (guitar) and Clint Reynolds (bass) added a new dimension to Michael's unstructured lyricism creating a mesh of funky, bluesy rock-n-roll that ranged from long epics (Giving Up the Ghost, Two Boys and a Wheelbarrow) to short pop-rock cuts (Drive, Drowning and Waving) and a myriad of hard funk, screams and hard-charging riffs in between. The band played another slew of dates across the US, earning new fans and converting old ones to Michael's brand of GLJ. 2002 saw two more swings through the US with a shifting line-up of players including, at various times, Powell, Chris Sobowytch or Matt Mitchell on guitar, Pando replacing Reynolds on bass and Brahm or John Lacque on drums, further adding to the lengthy list of players in the GLJ legacy.

Having the stage set for a complete re-emergence of Gene Loves Jezebel, Michael once again teamed up with Michael Ciravolo to craft a fresh chapter in the form of 'Exploding Girls', released in August of 2003.

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