Friday 23 February 2018

I worry nobody spends any time reflecting any more


YOU tend not to have heroes anymore at my age. What you possibly do have is people who you feel would not be a disappointment if you were to meet them. Nicky Wire from the Manic Street Preachers would be one such person for me.

I have always enjoyed how this lad from the Welsh Valleys defied stereotyping. I remember he went through a phase where hoovering was one of his favourite pastimes. For years, he has played music that is sometimes delicate and disturbed, often to fist-thumping UK fratboys, sometimes while wearing a dress, but always at least in a feather boa and eyeliner. And meanwhile he tweets with passion about the rugby.

He has also provided a model for ageing gracefully, for my generation. From an angry but literate young punk, he has grown into a gracious and charming but scathing elder statesman of UK music and popular culture in general. And he is prone to admitting that he thinks it's all rubbish now, the music and that.

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