Manic Street Preachers – Roundhouse, London 30/05/09

You almost certainly know the story by now. Manics guitarist and lyricist Richey Edwards disappeared back in 1995 under somewhat mysterious circumstances leaving his bandmates a folder of lyrics and ideas. This year, the band decided to use the lyrics left behind by Edwards and record a new album – Journal For Plague Lovers. Many thought that this would herald a return to the harsh, abrasive sound of The Holy Bible, the last album that Edwards appeared on. Yet, despite the production of Steve Albini, a man notorious for achieving stark sounding records, the mood and feel of JFPL is entirely different to that of The Holy Bible. Edwards’ lyrics are more opaque and less filled with bilious rage, while the music is far less aggressive than might have been expected. Right now the band is on the road for a short tour before putting the album behind them and moving on. In this sense Journal For Plague Lovers [review] doesn’t feel like an album per se, but more a device for the band to achieve some kind of closure, and these gigs are a way for the band to celebrate the genius of Edwards with their fans.

As we wait for the band to hit the stage, the somewhat disturbing image of Jenny Saville’s Stare hangs heavily over the stage. Unlike most portraits, the eyes of its subject don’t follow you around the room, they gaze unfocussed into the middle distance, generating an even more disturbing feeling. When the band hit the stage however, they are anything but unfocused. “This part of the evening has been made possible by Richard James Edwards” states James Dean Bradfield before launching into a raucous ‘Peeled Apples’. ‘Jackie Collins Existential Question Time’ follows and it could tear flesh from bone. The album might not have been as jagged as expected, but here in a live setting this new material is every bit as raw and edgy as you could possibly hope for. Bradfield’s voice is a feral roar that punches straight to the heart and Nicky Wire is lost in the lyrics, mouthing every word clearly caught up in the moment. If he’s less frantic in his performance than usual, then that’s understandable as he’s performing with a prolapsed disc in his back. That the gig is actually taking place at all is testament to Wire’s commitment to the Manics and their fans.

‘Facing:Page Top Left’ gets the acoustic treatment, which brings added nuances and emotion to the song, and provides a short breather for Wire before they launch into an incendiary version of ‘Marlon JD’, the highlight of this first set. They wrap things up with ‘William’s Last Words’ which many have interpreted as a kind of suicide note, but such an interpretation clearly misses the ambiguity that runs throughout this song and indeed most of the other songs on Journal For Plague Lovers. Wire’s vocals are an acquired taste at the best of times, but tonight he’s really on form, lending the song the required emotional weight and pathos with not a bum note in sight. It’s truly breathtaking.

After a short interval, the band returns for a greatest hits set, which is unsurprisingly welcomed with gusto by those only really interested in such things. We get a startling rendition of ‘Ocean Spray’, a pepped up sprint through ‘Motorcycle Emptiness’, and a singular lethargic nod to The Holy Bible with ‘Faster’. ‘You Love Us’ is as frantic as you’d hope for, and when they segue from ‘Stop in The Name of Love’ into ‘Motown Junk’, the love for the band emanating from the audience is palpable. ‘If You Tolerate This’ is introduced as “If You Tolerate This Piss”, as Bradfield admonishes someone for launching their pint at the stage, and for once the way they attack the song actually gives it a real kick; it’s almost a highlight. They wrap things up with an incredibly emotional ‘Design For Life’. Bradfield moves his mic stand to the place where Richey would have been standing had he still been with the band, before letting the crowd take the vocals from the second verse onwards. And then it’s over, an emotional rollercoaster of a set, but one that feels as if something has been achieved. It’s not quite closure – as the band and the fans will forever be inextricably linked to Richey Edwards – but this is about as close as they will ever come.