Manic Street Preachers Make Triumphant North American Return

Phoenix Concert Theatre

Toronto, ON

on Oct 4 2009

Erik Missio (CHARTattack)

10/05/2009 2:01pm

"I really have no idea why the fuck it's taken us 10 years to get back here," Manic Street Preachers bassist Nicky Wire (sporting trademark guy-liner, of course) shrugged from behind his boa-bedecked mic stand.

Well, the explanation probably has something to do with the fact the Manic Street Preachers remain relatively unknown properties on this side of the Atlantic, while being critically and commercially acclaimed in their native United Kingdom. But let's not get stuck on the touchy details.

Besides, given their reception in Toronto (the second of two Canadian dates on a short North American tour), the Welsh trio will hopefully be back before 2020. Like, say next week. And/or the week after that.

This, after all, was a great rock 'n' roll show and we need those as much as possible. Throw in a fairly rabid crowd and Sunday night approached being a near-perfect performance. (But no "The Masses Against The Classes," alas.)

Despite the T-dot's rep for being a haven for standoffish concertgoers a little too cool to fully embrace the music, the packed crowd at the Phoenix Concert Theatre was overwhelmingly into it.

Old favourites, like opener "Motorcycle Emptiness," "La Tristesse Durera" and "Faster" were eagerly greeted with claps, fist pumps and chorus shout-alongs. The songs were allowed to assume their rightful roles as stadium anthems, despite the Phoenix's relatively tight confines. That the crowd was a little older than the average hipster may have had something to do with the exuberance.

This audience participation was well-deserved — the band sounded tight and played like they were genuinely happy to be there.

Frontman James Dean Bradfield's crisp, clean vocals never faltered, and his oft-underrated guitar work was further buoyed by flourishes not heard on the albums.

Sean Moore banged at furious pace behind the drum kit and Wire offered both bass and backup vocals. The band also augmented their performance with a touring guitarist and keyboardist.

But there was also another onstage presence of sorts — well, more of an absence, technically — Richey James Edwards. (Go ahead, visit Wikipedia. Long story short: He's presumed dead, but Edwards is a musical hero, and everyone knows heroes are never actually dead unless you find the body.)

Edwards disappeared 15 years ago, but his lyrics form the basis of the Manics' latest album, the highly acclaimed Journal For Plague Lovers. Normally, when a band that have a long history comes to town, there's a secret fear the concert will focus too much on the new — and often passed-prime — stuff rather than the hits (cough, U2).

If anything, MSP may have gone too far the other way, offering only a quartet of new songs ("Peeled Apples," "Marlon J.D.," "Me And Stephen Hawking" and the quickly embraced "Jackie Collins Existential Question Time"), when it would've been great to take in far more.

Then again, I guess the decade-long absence meant the Manics owed us. We got "If You Tolerate This, Then Your Children Will Be Next," "Tsunami," "Motown Junk," a Bradfield solo on "The Everlasting" and the always beautiful "A Design For Life." Hundreds of voices singing "We don't talk about love/We only want to get drunk" can be strangely comforting.

Judging by audience reaction, whether a song was relatively new ("Send Away The Tigers") or relatively old ("Little Baby Nothing"), it seemed to be someone's very favourite. By the time we reached the penultimate piece (the Manics never do encores, alas), and Bradfield's singing "You Love Us," the lyrics became a bit too obvious.

We do love them, dammit. Even if they only visit every decade or so.