Even in exile

I was slightly late to the party with the Manic Street Preachers. Their first album, 1992’s Generation Terrorists, passed me by, as did their subsequent efforts Gold Against the Soul and, unforgivably, Holy Bible. It took until 1996 for me to wake up to their greatness when they released the stellar Everything Must Go, featuring such classics as Design For Life, Kevin Carter and Australia.

The dire state of 1980s popular music had made me wonder if rock and roll was dying, or worse still that it already had. The 1970s had been largely glorious, from 1971 which was the greatest year ever for music (see David Hepworth’s book 1971 – Never a Dull Moment: Rock’s Golden Year and then try to tell me otherwise), through punk and new wave to the greatness of the Clash. By contrast, the 1980s became worst decade for modern popular music. I hardly bought a record.

The Manics are a great rock band and they write about real things and real people, as befits a bunch of working class blokes who grew up together in Blackwood, South Wales. I’ve only seen them live once and they were, impossibly, even better than they sound on their records. This year, lead singer James Dean Bradfield made a solo record, which is right up there with the Manics best work.

Even in Exile is a collection of songs tracing the life and death of Chilean poet-singer-activist Victor Jara, with lyrics written by Patrick Jones, brother of Manics bass player Nicky (Wire) Jones. Jara was tortured and killed under the regime of Margaret Thatcher’s friend Augusto Pinochet and left a wonderful legacy of poetry and music. I had barely heard of Jara until Bradfield’s album was released but I know a lot more now and can easily see why he made an album about his life.

It’s right up there with my albums of 2020, which despite the coronavirus, is becoming another stellar year in music. If you like high quality rock music with clever and deeply affecting lyrics, you really need Even in Exile. I couldn’t recommend it more.