Tonight was the very first Manic Street Preachers gig for me, yep, I've been waiting for years and Wembley was not the place I would have ever expected to see them. Excuse me for my ignorance, and yes, I do own the Everything Live video, but I always imagined seeing the band in a grotty, smelly club with about 1000 other people all reeling about in their spraypainted shirts, drunkeness and leopard print.
Of course, tonight did have the fair share of the devotedly dressed, but there was no way they were drunk, for starters, they were too young to purchase the booze. Instead, I was sandwiched in between ordinary looking people, some old fans who were over the dressing up and new fans who didn't understand the whole concept of their previous cult status. It was entirely different to what I had pictured, and yet slightly reassuring.
Catatonia, dubbed Very Special Guests, started late, though making up for it as Cerys bounced on stage in a ridiculous beanie and what can only be described as a dressing gown.
Their set, to my non-Catatonia ears, was clean-cut, mistake free, growly pop with Cerys showing herself to be an excellent frontwoman. The songs, I'm afraid, sort of zoomed past me, aside from my wildish jig to 'Mulder and Scully' and the agony of a new song that should never be released called 'She's a Millionaire'.
Cerys' voice was in fine form; she pushed the range up and down and played with harmonies that were almost angelic to a positively Satanistic boom. The rest of the band stood back and let her get on with entertaining the crowd which was appreciated with the obligatory cat calls and a ridiculous amount of "You rock, Cerys!" from some girl further down the front row.
Pinned to the front of the crowd, I was fully expecting the avalanche of thousands of bodies as the Manic's intro started, an arty piece of film beamed onto five screens with fantastic filmic music over the top.
The Manic's set was full of the latest and greatest, as well as a few surprise tracks from yesteryear that were hauled out for an airing. Previously, some songs that we never thought we'd hear live again have been teased out, such as 'Faster', 'This Is Yesterday' and 'Yes'. Songs that were cult hits. Songs that were blessed additions to the set and made us look at the right hand of the stage and sigh.
The setlist has been given a fresh overhaul, meaning you can say goodbye to crowd favourites 'Roses In The Hospital', 'From Despair To Where'and 'Stay Beautiful'. Tonight we are given a Clash cover, Wham's 'Last Christmas' (so sweetly '1994 Astoria') and 'She is suffering', with James introducing the song with a thank you to all those who bought it when it was released. It didn't contain the same jitter and strain as it did over four years ago, but James's brilliant, emotion jarring delivery invoked feelings of utmost pride, regret and reminiscence - things I didn't think I'd get at a 'new' Manic's gig.
Much of the new album was showcased with 'If You Tolerate This..', 'Black Dog On My Shoulder', 'My Little Empire' (minus Nicky on backing vocals), 'Ready For Drowning', 'The Everlasting', 'You Stole The Sun From My Heart' and 'Tsunami', all backed by their edited video clips.
"Everything Must Go" was wheeled out with the title track, 'Elvis Impersonator', 'Kevin Carter', a blazing 'All Surface, No Feeling' and 'Design For Life' as the last song, while 'La Tristesse Durera', 'Motorcycle Emptiness', 'Motown Junk', 'You Love Us' and the now staple playing of an acoustic 'This Is Yesterday' were timely played to mass hysteria and heavy duty moshing.
The band looked slightly weary, particularly Nicky, who after being relatively silent, grabbed his microphone and lashed the crowd with a tirade about the positivity of the amount of artists being dropped from their labels this year and near the end of the set, looked out at the screaming front rows and told them to "Shut up, you cunts". Later, during 'You Love Us', he dropped his bass, picked up a skipping rope and skipped around the stage, truly a sight to behold from a gangly 30 something in fake fur trousers and black eyeshadow.
James, showing an ever growing strength as a frontman, hopped and pinwheeled around during his awe-inspiring solos and bantered with the crowd, a beautiful show from the man who once confessed to not being able to be the 'proper' , audience loving frontman.
After watching uncountable hours of old live footage, their show obviously lacked the fire and criminally brilliant spontaneity, replaced by huge screens, Nick Naysmith with his gadgets where Richey once stood and a set so rehearsed and full of perfection they don't even need setlists. At the same time, there is a sense of relief in the crowd that the band is still able to get up on stage and deliver a gorgeous show, that Nicky remains a mouthy bastard in leopard print and they are able to play the old tunes without qualms.
I missed what I really wanted to see at a Manics concert, but came away with the notion that I might have gotten more. The highlight of my evening was Nick's fuck-up with his keyboards as the intro to 'If Tolerate This..' came out sounding like music from "Lost In Space" and James, startled out of performance mode, began to piss himself laughing and concede that he'd have to do the acoustic set until "DJ Nick's drugs wore off".
The glitch only highlighted the fact for me, (forever stuck in MSP 1993) that despite I was crammed into a rather large hall, four years on from you-know-who and amongst people I wouldn't have associated with the band, once I could look past all that Big Name Band crap; the huge screens, the amount of press with cameras poised and the girls who threw stuffed toys at them; I was quintessentially at a Manic Street Preachers gig. It was almost like I'd never been away.
- Taylor Glasby
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