That isn’t so much a statement of intent as an allusion to what I’m about to talk about. I’m a bit behind with this one, but I couldn’t resist writing about what ended up being an amazing night and one of the highlights of my time in Vancouver so far.
Last week, on the 22nd, I headed downtown to something I’d been looking forward to for weeks: a chance to see the brilliant Manic Street Preachers live, as part of what was the first time they’ve played North America in ten years. The show was at the Commodore Ballroom, and my first reactions after I had queued and thoroughly proved that I was 19 was what amazing a venue it was. The clue’s in the title: just imagine an ornate ballroom with a stage at one end (and lots of Rogers advertising). I was there shortly after the doors opened so I was able to get to the front, as I love doing, but the downside to this plan is that I had to wait for what seemed like a lifetime. The support band came and went without anyone paying much attention, which was unusual as they seemed to be only there to grab as much attention as possible: lead singer in full-length black dress rolling round the stage whilst wailing like a banshee and guitarist wearing a feathered jacket and more make-up than was strictly necessary.
The great thing about this gig for me was that the Manics are only a fraction as popular in North America than they are in the UK and Europe, so the show was intimate and seemingly for the ‘real’ fans (I don’t think you’d have heard of the Manics in Canada unless you were a big fan already; certainly no-one I mentioned them to had). Intimate probably isn’t the right word, but still, the 990-person capacity venue wasn’t nearly full and there was no barrier, meaning I was standing right up to the stage. This meant, wonderfully, no lard-assed security guards wandering right in front of your sightline in high-viz jackets, and, I thought, the ability to touch James Dean Bradfield’s shoes!
Now, I’m no gig reviewer, so I’m going to suck at this bit. They came on soon after 10pm to maniacal (pun slightly intended) applause and burst straight into goodtime hit Motorcycle Emptiness. I’m not an expert on the band’s back catalogue, but I would say that the setlist that followed was as perfect as they could have made it, with just the right mixture of classics with new songs to suit an audience that probably hasn’t seen them for over 10 years, if at all. They played a set spread fairly evenly across all their albums, with perhaps only The Holy Bible (a fine, fine album by the way) under-represented. Understandable, of course, being ‘Richey’s record’ as it is, although when they did play Faster, it was one of the best-received songs by the crowd and I’m sure a highlight for many. The four songs from the new album (Journal For Plague Lovers) that they played were probably the best they could have picked, and were played brilliantly, although of course they weren’t going to get the same reaction as classic hits A Design For Life, If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next, and You Stole The Sun From My Heart. The latter got arguably the most intense audience response, although it was fairly surreal to be part of a crowd of hundreds singing the eponymous chorus joyfully, like it was the most upbeat sentiment in the world.
There can’t have been a single review of the Manic Street Preachers – concert, album, whatever – over the years that hasn’t mentioned Richey Edwards, so here goes. As with all the Manics’ gigs, Richey, the band’s original guitarist and songwriter who went missing in the 90s and has since been declared presumed dead, was eerily present. The band are known for leaving empty the side of the stage where he would have stood, relegating the additional (and thoroughly session) keyboardist and guitarist to the back, next to the drum riser. Unbeknownst to me, this was the side of the stage at which I had picked to stand. However, during the last song, A Design For Life, James moved the microphone stand over from his central location to directly in front of me, so I got to see the master at work (very) close up. I’m not sure if his move was at all symbolic, and I’m sure given the band’s admittedly haphazard approach to the metaphor, neither did he, but nobody questioned it, and at the very least, it was a score for me.
After the gig there was a manic rush (these puns write themselves) to get hold of one of the numerous setlists off the stage, far more fervoured than any attempts I’d seen at other gigs, and consequently I missed out. A roadie did say that the band might be coming out for autographs once the crowd had died down, so I stuck around, and whilst I was wandering around the venue another roadie came up to me and silently gave me a folded piece of paper, which it turned out was a setlist! Chuffed with this, and always liking a souvenir from a gig, I waited a bit longer until we were told the band weren’t coming and that we should clear off. I thought this was a shame, because for some reason I really felt the night wasn’t over. Walking round the side of the venue towards the bus I saw a limousine, and wondered. Then, a few steps later, I saw a group of about 15 people down a side-alley and quickly worked out that that must be the exit from the venue and they figured the Welshmen would be on their way out. So I waited with them, feeling both excited and like a massive fangirl. After about 20 minutes some people came out of a door closer to the road than we were and walked hurriedly away – once the fans worked out what was going on there was no stopping them as they chased after the strangers with someone shouting out, quite astutely I thought, “calm down, don’t make it weird!” Well it turned out one of their number was none other than Nicky Wire, who kept walking whilst being bombarded with CDs and vinyls to sign. He didn’t seem to be stopping but then he relented and said “it’s okay, I’ll set up shop at the end here so you can all get stuff signed.” I thought it was great that he did that when he really didn’t have to. Eventually I got him to sign the setlist and he was also really happy to have photos taken so I got one with him as well. Whilst signing I thanked him for the gig and told him what a big fan I was, to which he thanked me and shook my hand, with total sincerity, which is nice, seeing as he must get that sort of identikit sycophantic stuff all the time, although, of course, I did mean it.
We headed back to our original camp and about 5 minutes later, out came three men dressed in black from the same exit, and similar chasing took place. It got a bit crazy once everyone realized one of them was James Dean Bradfield, and he was equally fine with stopping for the same treatment that Nicky got. I think the other two people were Sean Moore and the session keyboardist whose name escapes me; Sean must have used the chaos to get back to the tour bus, and as James put it to another fan “he’s good at getting away.” I got the man’s autograph and a photo, and told him similar words to Nicky, to which he looked me in the eyes, said another very sincere thank you and held his hand out for me to shake. Honestly, these people don’t need to be this nice! Maybe he was glad to hear a British accent after plenty of US touring, or, more likely, he’s that genuine with and appreciative of all his fans. Once he was sure everyone was satisfied he took off to the tour bus that was parked round the corner, with many people watching poignantly as he walked away. It must be hard to be a fan of the Manics and live in Canada; perhaps they were wondering if it was going to be another 10 years.
It might not be much of a story as these things go, but I found the whole thing incredible, and it was so refreshing to see such talented and lauded musicians be so down to earth and friendly to us. They may not be the biggest name (and certainly not in North America anyway; this gig was large compared to some they played on the tour) but they wrote some of the best songs of the 90s and I’m sure were the voice of a generation growing up in Blackwood and beyond. They pulled out all the stops for the show itself and made what is definitely one of the best gigs I’ve ever been to. I’ve now been listening to their music almost non-stop for the past week since the gig, and the main conclusion that I’ve reached is that I just really wish more people realized how brilliant they are.
