 This is a gig about fucking. It�s the magical spectacle we craved. As the finale of A Design For Life reaches its climax, Nicky hops along the front edge of the stage like a lanky kangaroo on E. James is roaming around everywhere and anywhere, even carrying his mic over to the far right of stage just so he can bounce back towards it on-cue for the last glorious, victorious chorus. Sean� where�s he? On his stool naturally, but you just know he�s loving it too. The wonderfully incongruous crowd of rugged militant types and camp sailors, �normals� and glitterised glammies, mixed along the barrier devotedly belt out the words. Ahhh, the ecstasy of a Manic Street Orgasm. I have missed you. This is the anti-Glastonbury. If that was like two decrepit OAPs squeezing their last trickles of sex-drive from a flat tube of toothpaste in the privacy of their own bungalow, then this is an orgiastic open air sixth-form gang bang in the school car park. There for all to see. Doggy style. You get the (x-rated) picture... The early part of the set sees the well-drilled offerings of You Love Us, Motorcycle Emptiness, Masses, and If You Tolerate This� delivered with their usual vigour. While the ordering of the songs means the band oscillate wildly between fierce venom and graceful melody, they all somehow piece together sublimely - like the most satisfying of musical jigsaws. Die In The Summertime (a 2nd-in-the-set regular this festival season) sounds sharp and coarse, just as it should. At its end, Nicky rewards himself with a swig of red wine from the bottle perched on top of his amp and by this point, it�s clear we�re set for the most intoxicating of evenings. Dressed neck-to-ankle in desert camouflage, Wire resembles a pumped-up-yet-decidedly-effeminate trooper as he performs consecutive star jumps and sporadic scissor kicks - all whilst permanently grinning as he scans the front rows. Ever the unlikely conscript, he seems delighted to be here.  Despite an unfortunately slow and flaccid Judge Yr�self, its successor Little Baby Nothing regains the impetus and is achingly beautiful. James lights up and begins La Tristesse Durera with his fag in one hand and the neck of his guitar in the other. In a musical age filled with crap ironic retro posturing (see: The Datsuns/Darkness etc), this image is a fitting antidote � cool as fuck. He spins around and pulls-off the perfect solo without a note gone astray. God knows where the fag ended up. There�s a real treat in store in the shape of Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky. Performing alone, James introduces it with a rant against the Daily Star (�just kill yourselves�) for an article they printed last week. When you consider their cold claim that Richey�s �skeleton� had been found in the River Severn (a false claim), the lyrics ring true. �They drag sticks along your walls�... Richey has been treated like a missing animal by the vulgar tabloids ever since his disappearance. But James makes sure that justice is done with an impressively desolate and moving performance. Magnificent. Time to step on the gas again... and the surprise airing of It�s So Easy gets Sean drumming like Schumacher and James howling as he stuns all present with that Slash-tastic solo. Prologue To History is yet another treat, and has Nicky mouthing every word and charting new scissor-kicking heights in honour of his personal-favourite lyric. It�s a refreshing joy to hear these b-sides as part of such a varied setlist after we�ve become so used to a theme of predictability over recent years. Everything Must Go is the message tonight (once again), as James announces his intention for the band to �break free� from the past, and then delivers the line �freed from the memory, escape from our history � HISTORY!� in vintage James �Scream� Bradfield fashion. The irony of immediately moving onto This Is Yesterday is perhaps lost in the moment, but regardless of the band�s future intentions, the glory of this nostalgia-feast we�ve been treated to recently will do for now. With next year�s album intended as a new dawn, these summer dates could be the last time a lot of the old songs get a live outing. And for as long as the band�s future direction is unclear, and that new dawn remains unexplained� all we can do is revel in the heroic dusk of tonight. �This is a song about fucking and drinking� says James as he gets ready to kiss goodbye with A Design For Life. What a session. Thanks to manicjunk.co.uk for letting me reprint their brilliant Move review. Make sure you visit their website to see their Move photos and a video clip. Also check out their recent feature: Manic On The Streets Of Everywhere - After Move festival in Manchester, the MSP tourbus embarked on a week of marathon journeys across the British Isles for gigs and signing sessions. This guide, consisting of reports/photos from several fans who've taken the time to contribute, can show and tell you what happened. This also includes a section called Sean Watch all about the different hats Sean�s been wearing at the signings!! |
