:: Track Listing

1. 1985
2. The Love of Richard Nixon
3. Empty Souls
4. A Song For Departure
5. I Live to Fall Asleep
6. To Repel Ghosts
7. Emily
8. Glasnost
9. Always/Never
10. Solitude Sometimes Is
11. Fragments
12. Cardiff Afterlife

:: Record Review

Manic Street Preachers

Lifeblood
(Sony UK; 2004)

Rating: 74%
Combined Rating: 75%


At what point does a mere lack of quality control venture into the realm of irresponsibility? The Manic Street Preachers answered this question in 2001 with Know Your Enemy: a 16 track, 67-minute catastrophe masquerading as an “important” rock album, it's easily one of the worst records I own; the last time I listened to the thing start to finish was while driving south on the Massachusetts Turnpike in August of 2001, and it’s hardly coincidental that my car stereo literally died in a hail of sparks 5 days later (Editor: It's not really that bad). So why the hell was Lifeblood on my wishlist on a recent trip to the U.K. (Allmusic would have you believe a U.S. release is in the cards for late December)? Mostly because I believe in second chances, and irrespective of their musical output; relatively shaky since 1996’s solid Everything Must Go, I can’t help but find this band fascinating.

Fascinating because their popularity in Great Britain is only rivaled by that of U2 and Radiohead, and while the Manics are easily as pretentious as both, they can barely sell out theaters when they tour North America (something which hasn’t happened in nearly five years). And such anonymity requires U.S. reviewers to repeatedly talk up their equally fascinating backstory involving founding guitarist Richey Edwards: a considerably disturbed fellow, he cemented his place in rock history by completely disappearing off the face of the earth in February of 1995, but not before an infamous 1991 incident where he used a razor to carve “4 Real” into his arm for the purpose of convincing a smarmy NME journalist that his band was more than a group of mascara clad poseurs.

In addition to the aforementioned antics, Edwards’ lasting contribution to the Manics legacy can be found within the lyrics to 1994’s The Holy Bible, an album which would still rock pretty hard even if it contained lyrics about high school girls as opposed to fascism, The Holocaust, and most notably, Edwards’ battle with anorexia nervosa. Like Nirvana’s In Utero, to which it’s often compared, The Holy Bible is extremely impressive, yet so abrasive that it’s impossible to listen to on a regular basis. It’s also virtually out of print Stateside, although Great Britain now has a considerably grim stocking stuffer in the guise of a recently released “10th Anniversary Edition,” containing a bunch of B-sides in addition to the comparatively slick U.S. mix of the record.

The problem with writing a lyrical landmark like The Holy Bible is that your fanbase might always come to expect such a topical record, and the biggest gripe that the British cognoscenti seem to have with Lifeblood has nothing to do with the fact that it’s the Manics most overtly poppy record to date, but rather that it’s apolitical. After all, this is the band that commemorated the release of Know Your Enemy with a rockin’ show at the Karl Marx Theater (you heard right) in sunny Cuba! And while that frighteningly scattershot record indeed sucked, it was at least an attempt to re-incorporate radical politics into the Manics oeuvre after 1998’s comparatively tame This is My Truth, Tell Me Yours. And seeing as Lifeblood is the first Manic Street Preachers release since phrases like “Orange Alert” were incorporated into everyday household vernacular, I suppose you can’t blame the critics for expecting a thornier affair.

But the Manics ain’t gonna give it to ya. Save first single “The Love of Richard Nixon,” the token Manics gesture of attempting to redeem a hated figure (“People forget China / And your war on cancer”), Lifeblood isn’t so much political as it is melancholy. Bassist Nicky Wire’s lyrics have always painted with a broader brush compared to those of Richey Edwards, and this time he elects to focus on themes of solitude and depression with self-explanatory song titles such as “Empty Souls” and “I Live to Fall Asleep.” And it’s not for nothing that the first song is entitled “1985” because for whatever reason, Lifeblood is unquestionably The Manic Street Preachers’ ‘80s throwback record. The production is easily the band’s glossiest to date, featuring a heavy emphasis on the newly fashionable '80s synth sound, icy piano licks jacked from “New Year’s Day”, and fluid bass playing highly reminiscent of Peter Hook or The Cure’s Simon Gallup.

Purists will gripe that Pro Tools have completely robbed this band of their once feral energy, and cite as evidence that frontman James Dean Bradfield plays far less guitar on Lifeblood than on any prior Manics albums. Outside of the frantic storm that is “To Repel Ghosts” (named after a Basquiat painting), there isn’t much here that could be described as "rocking." But if you can get past the fact that they’ll never write another “Of Walking Abortion,” Lifeblood is rife with fully formed pop songs, and is easily the most listenable record The Manics have released since Everything Must Go. Unlike R.E.M.’s recent debacle, a heavy production job doesn’t rob Lifeblood of its humanity, and despite the sorrowful overtones of songs like “Empty Souls” and “A Song For Departure,” the album makes for a very soothing listen.

It also contains some of The Manics best songs in recent memory. Opener “1985” is an extremely catchy anthem that gives a shout out to “Morrisey and Marr” while utilizing a pre-chorus synthesizer riff far more over the top than anything The Killers will ever commit to vinyl. “Solitude Sometimes Is” is a strident and somewhat charming rumination on the simple joys of being alone, and “A Song For Departure” explores a newfound emphasis on three-part vocal harmony---sporting an excellent chorus that’s been compared to the Mamas and the Papas classic “California Dreaming.”

While it should be applauded that Lifeblood doesn’t contain a single track as butt ugly as say, Know Your Enemy’s “Dead Martyrs," it suffers when relies on shimmering production to cover up the lack of a decent tune. There’s simply nothing at all memorable about “Fragments,” and “Emily,” which actually contains lyrics about, "A simple word called liberty," is corny enough to be unintentionally hysterical. One also has to wonder how many of these songs will translate to the Preachers' live show, as while Lifeblood works wonders in the bedroom or car, it’s delicate nature could potentially result in a series of bathroom breaks when played at the football stadium.

Still, it’s still infinitely better than their last album, and proof that The Manics are now capable of writing pop music that’s neither dull nor pandering. Though far removed from their wild days when they stated that their debut record would be an utter disappointment unless it managed to outsell Appetite for Destruction (which it didn’t), Lifeblood finds the Manic Street Preachers settling into a surprisingly pleasant middle age.

David M. Goldstein :: 8 December 2004 |