Manic Street Preachers are in Glasgow for the opening night of their tour supporting ninth studio album, ‘Journal For Plague Lovers’ which, as per current fashion dictates, they will play in full.
The band take the stage to a remix of ‘Peeled Apples,’ the new album’s pompous but punchy opening track, which they then waste little time in launching into, led by Nicky Wire’s bleeding bass riff. Watching James Dean Bradfield soon scream his way through ‘Jackie Collins Existential Question Time’ and ‘Me and Stephen Hawking,’ this could almost be the Manics of old and the crowd inside the Barrowlands thunderously voice their appreciation.
Though debatable whether it scales the heights of their hallowed albums of ’94 and ’96, ‘Journal For Plague Lovers’ is certainly the best record the band have released since their heyday. This is all the more evident in the live setting where tracks such as ‘All Is Vanity’ and ‘Pretension/Repulsion’ brandish their appealingly sharp, serrated edges, bolstered tonight by James Dean Bradfield being in great voice. Disappointingly though, the album’s unlisted final track, the defiant, rasping ‘Bag Lady’, is not given an airing. It is left then to Nicky Wire’s endearingly uncultured vocal to conclude the first set of the night with ‘William’s Last Words’ in which he mournfully croons the seeming farewell from absent lyricist Richey James.
Following a short interval the band return to perform some of their most popular moments from their back catalogue, beginning with ‘Motorcycle Emptiness’ and including ‘Tsunami’ ‘Everything Must Go,’ ‘Your Love Alone Is Not Enough’ and others. The hits give rise to much audience participation, including mass sing-alongs and handclaps, and while a poorly Nicky Wire is reserved, James can still create the coolest rock star shapes as he energetically spins around the stage, guitar in hand. The crowd roar their approval and the Manics repeatedly give thanks for the boisterous reception.
I remain a seemingly lone dissenter, as for the most part all I can hear is boring, lumpen sludge during the gig’s second half. ‘You Stole The Sun From My Heart’ remains an insipid, repetitive jingle and minus Traci Lords’ duet, the interminable ‘Little Baby Nothing’ is devoid of what made it interesting in the first place. I lose count of how often James raises his arms aloft, leaving the ‘Sleeperblokes’ on keyboards and guitar, or backing tracks(!) to supply the music, finally chipping in when the solo arrives. Most disappointingly of all, the band completely ignore ‘The Holy Bible’ tonight, and the set’s only major surprise is a jaunty rendition of ‘Motown Junk’ b-side, ‘Sorrow 16.’
What is abundantly clear, however, is that my view is utterly out of step with the rest of the Barrowlands, who lap up each song, old or new, with equal fervour. Finishing as expected with now signature song ‘A Design For Life,’ the band seem almost overwhelmed with this response, again thanking the crowd, who noisily reprise their adulation.