James Dean Bradfield - The Great Western (Sony BMG)
3/5
By: Thomas Hannan
Why do a solo album? If you're Damon Albarn, it's to indulge in a love of the music of a far off climate. If you're Thom Yorke, it's because you're fed up of your band taking an age to decide whether they want a record deal or not and you want to boast that 'Kid A' was actually all your idea. If you're the other leader of an important mid nineties British guitar act (who isn't Noel Gallagher - please, Noel, if you do have a solo record in you, keep it to yourself), James Dean Bradfield... well, exactly - why?. Especially - why this solo record?
The funniest thing about 'The Great Western' is that it sounds exactly like the Manic Street Preachers. In fact, it sounds exactly like the best Manic Street Preachers record since the underrated 'This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours'. Compared to the last two Manics LPs, it's really rather good. But the curiosity remains - if it does sound so similar to his work with the band, why indeed are Nicky and Sean not involved? Why 'The Great Western' at all?
One can only guess that it's Bradfield's way of wanting to become self sufficient - basically, trying to write lyrics to something other than the bland 'Ocean Spray' and thus proving that Nicky Wire is not the only brains behind the band (although his services as lyrical author are employed on 'Bad Boys & Painkillers'). It's a self help exercise. And if that's correct, it's a pretty good one. Lyrically, this being his first proper work, he's able to draw on an entire life behind him, from the disappearance of Richey Edwards ('Émigré') to the death of manager Philip Hall ('An English Gentleman'), and a lot of mentions of his native Welsh valleys ('Which Way To Kyffin' closing things on a particularly homesick note).
They're good lyrics - not superb ones, occasionally slipping in to cliché and obviousness, but good enough to occasionally provoke thought and never dire enough to take away from the quality of the music, which is surprisingly high. We say surprisingly because of the disappointment of 'Know Your Enemy' and everything since, 'The Great Western' reminding all within earshot that Bradfield can sing quite gloriously, is capable of penning interesting tunes ('That's No Way To Tell a Lie', lead single, first track and early standout use of curious little chord progressions) and winning melodies, 'Run Romeo Run' being the catchiest of these.
But you'll never love 'The Great Western' - an incredibly personal record made it seems much more for Bradfield himself than any other listener - like you love those early Manics records. A good reminder of what James can do when he's on form it truly is, but he's not on the top of his game throughout it - it's occasionally overly soppy, it's slightly half formed, it's no 'Holy Bible'. And no, I won't 'get over' that album, not until they make one better than it. And whilst stories of characters with Shakespearian names that sound a little like Elton John at his peak do have a place... well, me, I'm 'Of Walking Abortion'.
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