IT felt strange to be arriving at Feile `96 last night without having taken a long trip or booking into a hotel; all I had to do was scoot down to the Point, present myself at the guest entrance, and voila! instant rock fest. Around 4,500 rock fans converged on the main floor, all obeying the "no moshing or crowd surfing" signs.
I arrived to witness the Manic Street Preachers deliver a magnificent performance, a gold-encrusted treasure to salve the soul. Having been thrown into limbo by the disappearance of their guitarist and lyricist, Richey James, the Manics have come back from the brink of despair to reach into heaven. In the context of the band's unique loss, songs like From Despair To Where take on a new poignancy, and singer James Dean Bradfield screams out the vocals with the defiance and bemusement of a survivor who wonders why he was spared. La Tristessa Durem adds a poetic footnote to the loss of words.
The power and soul of the Manics' new album is amply demonstrated by Enola/Alone and Everything Must Go, the band taking Motown junk and reshaping it into something beautiful. As if to underline the almost childlike optimism, Bradfield takes up an acoustic guitar for a solo rendition of Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head
Motown Junk leads nicely into No Surface All Feeling, and once again the lyrics cut beneath the chrome to reach the rust within. When the rage subsides, all that's left is the desolate serenity of Motorcycle Emptiness and the courageous arrogance of You Love Us.
Foo Fighters were fizzing with energy, and they poured it into new songs like Here Comes My Hero and Up The Arms, but didn't forget favourites like For All The Cows, Weenie Beenie and This Is A Call. Dave Grohl has settled into his new role as Foo frontman, and he is no longer dogged by the legend of his former band, Nirvana. However, Foo Fighters have yet to prove they can go the distance, and in this venue at least, they didn't hit the target.
Teenage Fanclub ended this first night of Feile with an intoxicating combination of guitars and vocals, turning in classic concoctions like Starsign and What You Do To Me, and adding in more recent creations like Neil Jung, Mellow Doubt and Sparky's Dream. There's something in Teenage Fanclub's chemistry which marks them out as a great band, and sparks flew through every chord and every harmony. And if anyone still has doubts about their continued potency, the band put paid to them with Ain't That Enough. It was more than enough.
