Out
of all the British rock legends of our generation, the Manic Street
Preachers are arguably the band who have stood the test of time most
effectively. Through constant change and reinvention, with each
record they have always come back as a slightly different group. All
of their albums stand as particular snapshots of time that document
the various points this band have arrived at during their long
journey together, and now their 11th
LP marks the dawn of another new era for the group.
After
becoming stadium-filling rock royalty in the second half of the 90’s,
the following years delivered a couple of unfocused and sometimes
seemingly confused records. Nearer the end of the Noughties, the band
appeared to have reconnected with the anthemic power that made them
rock idols, but some fans who preferred the less shiny, rawer “other”
version of the Manics were left wanting. Those people were given a
real treat when 2009’s ‘Journal For Plague Lovers’ set the
final lyrical works of much-missed former member Richey Edwards to a
bleaker, more intense sound more reminiscent their 1994 masterpiece 'The
Holy Bible'. True to their habit of reacting against their previous
records, they released the unashamedly lavish ‘Postcards From A
Young Man’ a year later, an intentionally grand mainstream rock
record that Nicky Wire described as their “one last shot at mass
communication”. But realising that genuine rock had gradually
deserted the singles chart entirely, it seemed like a good time for
James, Nicky and Sean to draw a line under another chapter of their
career with the ‘National Treasures’ singles collection and live
shows intended to “mark the passing of the rock hit”.
After
announcing a “hiatus” it seemed that we wouldn’t be seeing them
again for a long time. “We
squeezed every last bit of anthemic energy and belief in the idea of
being in a rock’n’roll band and there was nothing left,” said
Nicky. After
surviving through so much for so long, maybe they’d already given
all they could possibly give and wouldn’t be able to find new ways
of being brilliant. How would they be able to reinvent themselves
again after recording no less than ten studio albums? Luckily at some
point over the last three years, an unplanned jolt of inspiration
seems to have breathed new life into the Manics. ‘Rewind The Film’
is an album that proves magic can occur when a band follows its
instincts rather than pushing hard for calculated results. It
seems a lot less concerned about commercial success previous outings.
Mainstream fame? They’ve been there, done that. Now their reward is
the freedom to stay true to themselves and concentrate on their own
ambitions, surely more rewarding than any of those platinum discs.
From
the beginning it immediately feels like a more relaxed affair, the
wonderfully understated opener ‘This Sullen Welsh Heart’ a
complete contrast to the previous album’s stadium theatrics,
bombast being left behind in favour of gentle sincerity and humble
charm. There’s
a sense of defeated resignation, yet it isn't long before that
determined spirit appears. The Welsh legends are known for finding
strength through embracing new challenges, “The act of creation
saves us from despair” a line that provides not only a fantastic
summary of this album, but the band’s entire career. With its
playful melody, joyous chorus and brightly rousing brass, the magnificent
single ‘Show Me The Wonder’ looks at the polarised concepts of
religion and science in a refreshingly positive way, an addictive
moment that shares musical DNA with the Chris Farlowe classic ‘Out
Of Time’, itself covered masterfully by the Manics about a decade
ago.
Another
noticeable thing is the increased amount of space in between words,
as opposed to the crammed verses of ‘The Holy Bible’. 18 years
after Richey’s disappearance, Nicky has gradually reconfigured the
band’s lyrical identity into something more direct, not wishing to
imitate his former songwriting partner’s unique style. But where
certain lines on ‘Send Away The Tigers’ and ‘Postcards From A
Young Man’ came across as slighty awkward, Wire’s work on ‘Rewind
The Film’ seems deeper, more personal and a great deal more
inspired. Impeccably produced and at times lusciously arranged, it’s
certainly not afraid to be “depressing” either. Brilliantly
representing the sadness at the heart of the album, a tearful
nostalgia for lost youth comes to the fore with the sweeping
melancholia of the title track, a moment made even more graceful by
the presence of guest vocalist Richard Hawley. A sincere and sombre
epic, it’s a fine reminder of the group’s elegaic power, the
languid elegance of Hawley’s rich tones countered wonderfully by
JDB’s urgent poignancy.
The
ghostly ‘Builder Of Routines’ is the moment where new elements
and intriguing instrumentation start to emerge, while lyrically it
expresses the desire to break free from the shackles of expectation,
just as this record often does musically. “I hate the middle age in
between acceptance and rage” sings James, again summing up the
band’s current situation and state of mind. The peaceful sigh of ‘4
Lonely Roads’ signals another first, a Manics song being sung
entirely by a singer from outside the band, in this case Cate Le Bon
providing a truly captivating vocal on a sad, enchanting number that
seems instantly familiar before too long. Venturing beyond the
valleys and into the wide world is the euphoric haze of ‘(I Miss)
The Tokyo Skyline’, where the busy patter of subtle electronics is
complimented nicely with the surprise entrance of a calming violin.
Painting a
perfect picture of the sun setting over a bustling cityscape, it’s
not too far away from the fascinating music of acclaimed Japanese
genius Cornelius.
On
previous LPs, a song like ‘Anthem For A Lost Cause’ may have been
in slight danger of being built up into an overblown orchestral epic,
instead this deeply touching lament tenderly projects this soulful
side they seem to have arrived at, benefiting from a low-key touch of
brass and light, majestic strings. It’s almost like a sombre,
resigned 50’s rock n roll ballad, the sort of thing that would
sound great on the soundtrack to a 'Grease' sequel where the youth have
grown old and the music they love has long since died. Appropriate in
fact, since this song deals with the decline of the popular song and
the decay of everything that “was once a glittering prize”. Nicky
clearly has his mind set on his advancing years and the slow erosion
of the things he loves. Staring
towards the eventual dying of the light, they
find themselves coming to terms with growing old in a confused world
where their ideals and principals seem like alien concepts to others.
‘Running
Out Of Fantasy’ highlights that sense of facing up to old age, the
record’s most fragile and openly vulnerable moment, touched with
gorgeous chord sequences and a gentle, almost Nick Drake-like
arrangement. We also get a stunning vocal from Bradfield, a man who
still makes every song sound like he was born to sing it. The most
unexpected treasure here comes in the form of the instrumental
‘Manorbier’, a beautiful, atmospheric oddity that explores an
admirably imaginative new territory, again showing their intention to
carry on moving forward and to continue evolving musically. Echoes of
2004’s ‘The Love Of Richard Nixon’ can be heard on the
brilliantly provocative closer ’30 Year War’, raging against the
Tory “old boy network” against a backdrop of funk bass and punchy
drum machine beats. When Bradfield belts out the line about “the
endless parade of old Etonian scum”, those who naively accuse the
Manic Street Preachers of having nothing left to say can go and eat
their words.
It
will be a divisive record for sure. The people carrier-driving
Absolute Radio brigade hankering for mammoth rock anthems will run a
mile when they set ears on the likes of ‘Manorbier’. Don’t come
here looking for another ‘Archives Of Pain’ either: ‘Anthem For
A Lost Cause’ and ‘Show Me The Wonder’ are about as far away as
you possibly get. Rather than attempting to recreate their past, the
most important part their history has played in ‘Rewind The Film’
was bringing them to the point which they are now at. Those of us who
have grown up with the music of the Manics should be glad that their
music continues to grow with them. We
should be also thankful that out of all the bands who have appeared
over the last three decades, it’s this incredible group that have
survived to tell the tale. Their battles have left them bruised and
scarred, but its their experiences that have shaped them, installing
a unique emotion into the heart of their music.
They
remain as enduring as ever. 8.6
(REVIEW: Manic Street Preachers - 'Futurology' http://rwffmusic.blogspot.com/2014/07/review-manic-street-preachers.html)
Pre-order your copy of 'Rewind The Film' HERE
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