Manic Street Preachers, who only ever to be the most important rock'n'roll band of the '90s. But having achieved that, near-as-dammit, you got the impression earlier this year that they were wondering What they had left to prove. Not a moment too soon, the recent Crappergate' flak seems to have reminded them Of their raison d'etre as a love/hate band. They were getting far too cosily 'appreciated' for a while there. Time to fuck a few more people Off.
"What are the toilets like out there?" asks Nicky Wire. "'cos ours are fucking fantastic - cost us loads of money!" "Although maybe we should have spent it on cocaine like all the other rock stars backstage," adds James.
This is the Manics we know and love. Nicky resplendent in a leopard-print mini-dress, showing his arse to the cameras, and James ablaze, spitting invective and scattershooting snarling riffs at us. And judging by forthcoming single 'Masses Against The Classes', a malevolent, abrasive number you'd place somewhere between 'The Holy Bible' and 'Generation Terrorists' in style, they still feel the need to musically kick against the pricks. Hence the bile-soaked readings Of 'Faster', 'Of Walking Abortion' and an angry 'Motown Junk'. And yet, when they play 'You Stole The Sun From My Heart', and 'Tsunami', supposedly evidence Of their MOR mellowing, it's soul-piercingly raw, and just goes to show how many galaxies away from Mel C's polished posturing they still are and always will be. No-one else is fit to piss in their toilet.