The Whole Truth

05/17/1999 4:00 AM, Yahoo! Music
Lily Moayeri

"When I was young, I always wanted to win. It's the chip-on-the-shoulder ethic. When I win stuff it's like, 'Yeah, f--kin' hell, I won!' Whether it's voted for by the public or the industry, I don't give a f--k; I like winning, I'm not ashamed of it," declares James Dean Bradfield, vocalist/ lead guitarist/ songwriter for the Manic Street Preachers, who in recent years have won practically every music award in their native United Kingdom. "I want to take care of business--I don't want to sit there and go, 'Oh God, it's just too much.' When I don't win it pisses me off, so why shouldn't I win? It's an indictment of where you come from, you can always see it. It's like being at school. I always wanted to win. I was always in the top five out of 200, but I never got first."

Bradfield continues, his teeth grinding: "I have no problems with people's backgrounds. The only time it really pisses me off is people who come from a more privileged background than me go to an awards ceremony and they win something and are really blasé about it. Bands from an upper-class background, when they get something they're ashamed by it; they almost have to dumb it down, and I hate that. Some people have it instilled in them that they're on an upward curve from the day they're born. When you see rap bands, they are always taking care of business. When they start they always want to win, they want to grind people to the ground, they're always reaping. Sometimes it doesn't upset me when I see rap bands turning into a lifestyle; f--k it, give it to them."

Rap revolutionaries Public Enemy, along with Guns N' Roses and--first and foremost--the Clash, are the three groups that most influenced Bradfield and his fellow Manics, drummer/ songwriter Sean Moore, bassist/ lyricist Nicky Wire, and missing-in-action rhythm guitarist/ lyricist Richey Edwards. The extreme diversity of these three acts was part of the attraction that led the four friends to form the Manic Street Preachers over a decade ago, hoping to encompass everything they loved about music. Their first couple of albums didn't quite hit the mark, but the time was well-spent, as the band members continued to learn about themselves as well as what would be acceptable to them and their listeners.

After the mysterious disappearance of Edwards in 1995, the group released an album featuring three songs left behind by Edwards as well as two other co-written by Wire; this album, Everything Must Go, had a strange kind of twisted euphoria about it that catapulted the Manics into the upper echelons of British bands. Now, their fifth and most recent effort, This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours, marks the first time the Preachers know for sure that they are a threesome. It's also the first time they have ever used the word "serene" when describing themselves. "Nick and I wanted it to be more of a religious effort in a kind of way. Certain lyrics I imagined to be sang in a church," admits Bradfield.

Although he sings these lyrics in as heartfelt and impassioned a manner as if he himself had authored them, Bradfield is more concerned with writing music than words when it comes to his Manic Street Preachers compositions. He's actually much more creatively galvanized by the lyrics of his bandmates. "My own lyrics have never even inspired me to write music. I grew up with Nick and Richey; when they gave me their first lyrics ever, I wrote my first song. I don't sit around writing pieces of music. I only ever write music when they give me lyrics. Their lyrics actually give me the inspiration to write music," he explains. "I spend ages reading the lyrics before I write any music to it, and I've always found when I try to write music without lyrics it's usually pretty dire. I've always found that I connect with the music first, but within the lyrics is the sole reason the music's connected with me."

With their success in the U.K., the Manic Street Preachers are now on their fourth attempt to chip through America's seemingly impenetrable wall (it would be their fifth attempt, but their fourth album, The Holy Bible, never saw a U.S. release). "Truthfully, it doesn't matter nearly as much as it used to," reflects Bradfield on American success. "When you're very young you feel indestructible; you have this image in your head of landing at Kennedy Airport. You want to be a phenomenon. Our first experience, we got rebuffed by the industry in such a grand manner we didn't have that need anymore. With America, you either got to be mentally in love with conquering it or you just go and not care. I think we're like that. We're too old to play in front of 20 people. We are experienced enough to know what things can destroy you, and you avoid them. When [we were] younger there was so much to do, it seemed insurmountable almost. Now it seems there are only certain things left."