Manic Street Preachers - The Band - The Early Years
Created | Updated Dec 13, 2004
The Manic Street Preachers (commonly known as the Manics) are today one of the biggest and most well-respected bands in the country, but this has not always been the case.
This entry attempts to give a concise but accurate account of the Manics' pre-career career, which hopefully will give a few insights into the band we know today.
"If they built a museum to represent Blackwood..."
"All you could put in it would be s**t, rubble and s**t..." - Nicky ('94)
Blackwood, Gwent, South Wales. One of those quiet little mountain towns. Nothing much to note, every day was much as the last, and little had changed for decades. But all that was about to change. In the late 80's Blackwood was hit hard - by the miners' strike. Suddenly the previously quiet valley was alive with pain and politics, which could certainly be said to have shaped the minds of four young men.
Via various line-ups and mistakes, these men came together to form a band. They were James Dean Bradfield (his dad wanted to call him Clint Eastwood Bradfield, but his mum threatened divorce), his cousin Sean Moore (complete with music degree), Nicky Wire (nee Nick Jones) and Richey James Edwards (he couldn't play for toffee, but he had a van - handy when starting out touring - and astonishing intelligence).
They shared passions and heroes very different from their peers - Marx or Plath were their inspiration - not footballers or tv personalities. In James' infamous bedroom, they conspired, reccomended each other to read this play by Pinter, or listen to that album by The Clash. There they plotted to get themselves into the music press; they digested the NME and the Melody Maker, got to know the writers and how to convince the world that they would be The Next Big Thing, trundling down to the infamous Spillers Records in Cardiff to spend their remaining pennies on Public Enemy records.
First though, the name must be addressed. The story goes that James was busking in Cardiff city centre. A randomised (we may assume drunk) man told him he looked like a manic street preacher. Ta-da!
Soon it became evident that there would need to be some actual music produced, so the band - currrently with friend Flicker on bass - started playing a couple of gigs in Blackwood and soon recorded a self-financed single - Suicide Alley. Here the campaign began in earnest. Long rambling letters were written to the music press. Attempts were made to gain management. And it came. In the guise of Hall or Nothing.
