Remembering
POP^ HERITAGEPOP (^) HERITAG
E
SO MUCH TO
ANSWER FOR
RICHEY EDWARDS
I
t was the second time I’d interviewed the
Manics. On the first occasion, the band
was still signed to the Heavenly Records
and my mental image of the encounter
is of young men having a hoot at all this
attention while improbably sporting charity
shop leopardskin print chiffon. It would be
an exaggeration to say they looked like Bet
Lynch impersonators, but not by much.
The second encounter was a rather quieter
occasion. On a March morning, shortly after
the release of Generation Terrorists, I headed
to central London to meet Richey Edwards
at Sony’s offices for an interview to appear
in a Canadian magazine. He was softly
spoken, polite yet direct, self-aware and far
more amusing than his subsequent image
might suggest.
Q
You’ve said a few times this will be
your only album. Do you still feel the
same way? “A lot of the time... When we
were driving back from crap gigs [at ‘toilet
circuit’ venues where the band had to pay to
play], we thought we still think we’ve got something
important to say, and no other band’s really trying
to do anything different. All we’ve ever tried to think
about is: ‘We’ve got to get to London somehow,
whatever it takes, and then we’ve got to get a record
deal and we’ve got to make an LP that sums up our
lives,’ and that’s all we’ve thought about. It’s been
really strange since we finished the LP because it’s
like this big gap in our lives... there’s nothing to think
about anymore...I don’t know what’s happening
anymore, it’s all very confusing. I haven’t been to
bed for days.”
Q
What did you think of the people you
met at your record label, Sony?
“I thought there would be a bit of an interest
in music, that’s definitely not the case. There’s
probably nobody in this building that actually
likes music as much as we do... Where we came from,
music was the biggest, most important thing in our
lives. It was all we had to get through the day, watch
videos and play records, that’s all what we did.
“Everybody here just has a good time, they go for
meals every day, they go to the cinema, they take the
theatre in, they go for walks in the park. They’re so
well rounded, normal human beings. We were quite
stunted, we’ve always admitted that, that we were
very shy, very insecure. When the most important
thing in your life is a vinyl record, it’s hardly a huge
sign of sanity.”
Q
How much did you play on
Generation Terrorists? “I’m just barely,
barely adequate to play the most basic
rhythm... I think too many people care about
musicianship and not enough people care
about what a band says.”
Edwards was integral to choosing the quotes that
adorn Generation Terrorists...
“A lot of people have gone out and chosen a
Camus book [as a result] and it’s good. All we’re
trying to say is we can never be as intelligent or as
literate as our favourite authors, they can say things
that we feel... better than we can. We’re not authors,
we’re just in a band.”
Q
How would you describe Blackwood
for a Canadian audience... “It’s a tiny
village. The only reason people were ever
living there was because of heavy industry,
and all that’s gone and everybody’s still left
there, so if you can imagine a mini-population with
nothing to do. It is boring, it is fucking boring... We
chose to stay there and be these lonely little people,
and other people just go up the pub, get pissed, fight
and take out their frustration in another way – and
that’s it.” Jonathan Wright
59
faintly ridiculous, silly poseurs. Richey
Edwards begged to differ, carving
“4REAL” into his arm with a razor
blade while a horrified Steve Lamacq,
then working for the NME, looked on,
uncertain what to do. During this era,
the band claimed they would make one
great album and then split up. As Wire
noted: “The most important thing we can
do is get massive and throw it all away.”
In the event, the Manics did something
far braver: they carried on, perennial
semi-outsiders. Along the way, the trio
of Wire, Bradfield and drummer Sean
Moore weathered the still unexplained
1995 disappearance of Richey
Edwards, with dignity and grace.
MAKING SONGS TO REMEMBER
A less often highlighted element in the
Manics’ mix of influences was the C86
generation of indie bands. In 1986 and
1987, Wire and Bradfield would busk in
Cardiff. “The idea was to make enough
money to buy a seven-inch single [from
venerable record store Spillers Music]
and a burger,” he told Alexis Petridis of
The Guardian in 2006. “The burgers
came from Wimpy. The seven-inch
singles came from indie bands no one
really remembers now: The June Brides,
McCarthy, Tallulah Gosh, Big Flame.”
These were “fragile” and “feminine”
bands that, as with the Manics, liked
manifestos and were interested in things
“slightly under the radar”.
As such, these were also bands
heavily influenced by two Welsh groups
to emerge in the post-punk era. Cardiff-
born Green Gartside-fronted Scritti
Politti. Formed in Leeds in the late-70s
and with a name chosen in homage
WALES SO MUCH TO ANSWER FOR
Straight Outta Caerphilly: The
Manics featuring Sean Moore,
Richey Edwards, James Dean
Bradfield and Nicky Wire
Mitch Ikeda
CP30.SoMuch_Wales.print.indd 59 07/06/2017 17:23