22 MusicWeek 20.09.13 THE BIG INTERVIEW NICKY WIRE ‘BETWEEN ACCEPTANCE AND RAGE’
It’s the key line from the Manic Street Preachers’ new album, Rewind The Film, a record that sees the former generation terrorists documenting the demise of certainty and the fading of the fire. It is personal, poetic, elegiac and, ironically, a radical departure.
week on Columbia. Musically it is the Manics’ most radical shift since 1994’s abrasive Holy Bible rubbed up against 1993’s burnished Gold Against The Soul. There is, for instance, only one track that features James’ electric guitar, and standout vocal guest turns from Richard Hawley, Lucy Rose and Cate Le Bon also add texture. The first line of album opener, This Sullen Welsh
Heart, is ‘I don’t want my children to grow up like me’. That’s a decent dollop of fear and self-loathing right there; 11 syllables in and straight away you know that, unlike so many others, they haven’t drafted Nile Rodgers and Pharrell in on ‘vibes’. Nicky Wire has written the words to all but one
of the tracks (Anthem for a Lost Cause is written by James Dean Bradfield) and says: “A useful comparison is with Postcards, because that was nostalgic in a sense of it being a celebration and declaration of the fact we could still do it, we were giving it one last shot. Whereas Rewind The Film is saying that the whole thing has been brilliant, tragic, uplifting, incredible, but I don’t know if we can do it anymore.” By “it”, he means “massive, anthemic, guitar- laden radio hits”. And what’s brought on that realisation? “Just crippling fucking tiredness [laughs]. No, I actually think it’s a combination of a few things: the body getting old, having kids, the music business changing, and me becoming quite drained with that, which I never have been before. Anyone who knows me knows I love the whole business, the stats, the charts [Music Week is delighted to discover that Wire is a fully paid up subscriber], the artwork, working closely with the product managers, all that boring stuff [Music Week is confident he doesn’t mean Music Week], I’ve loved it. But it’s just become a bit bewildering. “We also lost our product manager at Sony, Jim Fletcher, who died two years ago. I was really
TALENT BY DAVE ROBERTS
T
he Manic Street Preachers burst into the public consciousness just over 20 years ago, a (new art) riot of slogans and cheekbones,
riffs and rouge or, to use their own words, a mess of eyeliner and spray paint. They were provocative, confrontational, smart,
brave and funny. They stood out. A lot of new bands are gobby, precious few are articulate. Pretty much all of them have ambition, not many have a manifesto. The Manic Street Preachers needed to be noticed and demanded to be heard. They were instantly urgent, seemingly panicked about running out of time, even from day one, always desperate: desperate to communicate, to say things they thought had to be said, to shine the spotlight on
ABOVE
Close to the Wire: Manics’ Nicky Wire wrote the words to all but one of the tracks on the band’s latest album Rewind The Film
their heroes and influences, to make
people know what they knew and feel what they felt. And to shock. “I laughed when Lennon got shot” runs the most famous line in their breakthrough single, Motown Junk (released on Heavenly in 1991). Now they are in their forties (older than Lennon
ever was). They are family men. They are veterans. They are survivors. And they are, possibly prompted by 2012’s retrospective activity based around the 20th anniversary of Generation Terrorists, reflecting on their lives, their careers and their place in the modern world.
That mood of uncertainly coupled with the
process of reassessing and redefining who you are is captured perfectly and movingly on Rewind The Film, the band’s 11th studio album, released this
close to him and he was really young. It was so sad and it just kick-started a lot of emotions and got me thinking about growing old with a bit of grace and dignity.”
The mood of nostalgia was enhanced last year
not only by the Generation Terrorists reissue, but by a very special one-off gig at the 02 where the band played all 38 of their singles. “That had an impact, definitely. When we walked off that stage it was pretty frightening actually, for us as a band. James wanted to get back to the studio straight away and move on, because we just knew we could never do that again. “We’d been demoing stuff already, but after that night I could tell there was a slight sense of panic. 38 tracks, selling out 02, a whole career put out there. For us it was a one-shot deal and a bit of a full-stop.” It deserved an exclamation mark. The Manics’
career has been incendiary and incredible. As Wire puts it: “On a human level there’s been a lot of heartache. From Philip [Hall, their original manager]
www.musicweek.com
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72
