DON'T hold your breath for the Manic Street Preachers' backlash, because it's not, gonna get here this side of Christmas. For two straight nights at Dublin's Olympia this weekend the truncated Welsh trio slashed and burned, their way into the higher echelons of popdom, finally kicking down the doors of greatness after almost nine years of relentless bootwork. They've gotten up quite a few noses along the way, and they've left a trail of blood and spit behind them not to mention a missing guitarist - but now that they've finally got their grubby hands on the keys to the kingdom, expect them to keep on hurling fire and brimstone from a great height. Watch the skies.
Saturday night was the first of two sold out shows at the Olympia, and also the first gig of their UK tour, and the impending journey to glory was suitably soundtracked by an orchestral overture of A Design For Life. The band hadn't even, come on stage and already the crowd were singing the chorus, of "We don't talk about love/ We only wanna get drunk" - looks like we're in for a mad Manic buzz.
Australia cracked the first can, as guitarist/singer James Dean Bradfield unleashed his awesome voice and his axe killer guitar style, all the time, swirling around the stage like a small, stocky twister. From Despair To Where was the sound of a band crawling triumphantly from a tunnel of self hate, while Faster did a quickfire rewind to the Pistol fuelled punk of the band's first album, Generation Terrorists. Lay this alongside the shutter speed riffs of Kevin Carter or the tumbling stomp of La Tristesse Durera and you can see an image developing of a band reaching its full focus.
So far, the Manics pull no "punches, but they spring a surprise when they revive their Top Ten cover version of the M.A.S.H. theme, Suicide Is Painless, delivering a painful reminder of the missing Richey Edwards. Removables "reiterates transitory nature of life" while No Surface All Feeling cuts right through the delicate skin of the soul. After a scoot down memory boulevard via Motown Junk and Motorcycle Emptiness, Bradfield stands alone with his acoustic guitar, singing Richey's lyrics to Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky, then tripping easily into Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head before the clouds of self doubt have time to settle.
Drummer Sean Moore, bassist Nicky Wire and the band's touring keyboard player return to the stage and, though Nicky is flagging a bit by this stage, he keeps on pogoing as the whirlwind whips up again for Enola/Alone, Everything Must Go and A Design For Life; by the final flurry of You Love Us, the lanky bassist is on his knees at the front of the stage, basking in the reflected, resurrected self esteem. Yeah, we love the Manic Street Preachers all right, but why did it take us so long to fall at their feet?
