Seventeen years after the release of their debut album, Generation Terrorists, and Manic Street Preachers are still peddling their political melancholy to a rapt audience. It's the concluding night of their tour to support latest album Journal for Plague Lovers – a Holy Bible-esque work that draws on the last writings of the band's troubled lyricist and occasional rhythm guitarist Richey Edwards who disappeared in 1995.
Despite being sold out the Ulster Hall seems unexpectedly roomy with an unusual crowd. Unusual in their usualness. Throughout their history MSP have been known to attract a colourful audience but the venue is mostly devoid of feathers, glitter and leopard print except for Nicky Wire's microphone stand which is unsurprisingly dressed with a fluffy feather boa.
There is a palpable air of excited tension in the room – it is announced that ...Plague Lovers will be played in its entirety followed by a greatest hits set. The anticipation of nine albums worth of greatest hits is intoxicating. As lights dim and the band come onstage however, it feels anti-climatic. Bursting straight into 'Peeled Apples', it seems as if something is missing; James Dean Bradfield's vocals are watery and lost.
Perhaps it's the fact that it's the last date of the tour and our Welsh friends are feeling the effects or perhaps it's a sense of regret at having made the decision to play the whole album first, but it feels like they are dying to get it all out of the way. Polite attention is paid to the performance by the crowd but there are some stellar moments including the fantastic 'This Joke Sport Severed' – as touching and emotionally raw a song as the Manics have ever had.
The beauty of the album in all its intense, abrasive glory doesn't transfer so smoothly to the live set just yet but strange sound and unfamiliarity on the part of this reviewer may have had something to do with it.
Referencing a different era and remembering their first ever performance in Belfast, playing in the Limelight, whoops of joy come from members of the audience who obviously have it ingrained in their memories.
As the last notes of 'William's Last Words' echo through the Ulster Hall, the band depart the stage. The mood changes immediately. Again those fizzes of nervous excitement. Anticipation. Expectation. As the crowd stands in the darkness the few minutes starts to feel like a few hours until bang, they're back.
Straight into 'Motorcycle Emptiness' and the room erupts. This is what we've all been waiting for. Onstage the atmosphere has changed. No longer showing their age, the trio have returned to their imbued political roots – their hard rock, revolutionary spirit is present once again.
Cascading through a set of hits it's an emotional and powerful trip through the past for many fans, screaming along to the nihilistic, charged 'Faster' or to the sweeter sounding but equally intense 'You Stole The Sun From My Heart' – Nicky Wire's ode to the horrors of touring. Every single song is perfect and hardcore fans are treated to 'Sorrow 16' – a b-side from 'Motown Junk'. The only song that perhaps misses the mark a little is 'Ocean Spray' complete with cheesy sax solo.
It's a set filled with force and feeling – everyone joins in with the appropriately named 'You Love Us' before the aching 'A Design For Life'. Both songs are as relevant now as they have ever been. Just as MSP's history has been a whirlwind experience of soaring highs and painfully open lows, their performance has been a tidal wave of raw nostalgia. Yes, we love you.
Insideireland.ie