More about: Manic Street PreachersThe Membranes

John Robb never fails to surprise. Not content with releasing what must be his band The Membranes' Magnum Opus, What Nature Gives Nature Takes Away earlier this year, he has scored the music for Renegade Psalms, an LP showcasing the poetry of Patrick Jones, older brother of Manic Street Preacher Nicky Wire.

Robb’s energetic, elemental muse often pushes him to reflect on the rapid cultural changes we are all subject to. And the creative processes round this latest venture is maybe another aspect of Bowie’s prophecy, that the internet would change the way we experience music, making it an element in our lives “like water”. Asked how the LP came about Robb told me, “I’d never met Patrick but he sent me the poems as mp3’s. I wrote the music around them on my ipad and iphone and then went to Simon “Ding” Archer’s studio in Manchester and worked on them there playing the keyboard and string parts myself whilst Ding did his magical engineering.” And there we have it. Three people working remotely and tangentially with modern technology creating a new chapter in an ancient tradition, social protest using music.

Onto Robb’s virtual partner in crime, Patrick Jones. This review maybe isn’t the place for a debate over the role of older brothers and their younger siblings’ rock n' roll bands, but it would be an interesting subject to broach. I can think of a couple of recent examples, most notably British Sea Power’s “Old Sarge”. And what is clear from listening to Jones’ compelling folio is that the content of his message and the bewitching clarity and surety he brings to its delivery is something you can trace to Manics LPs. Constantly I thought of A Design For Life or Holy Bible when hearing a turn of phrase or a social point rammed home. Again that may be me projecting, but is that such a bad thing?

There is also a strong sense of the British folk song to these ears: the strident nature of texts, especially in ‘To Be Or Not’ and ‘The Aspirations of Poverty’ hark back in spirit to old ballads about the cruelties and injustices borne by the lower orders from above. Jones has picked up on the modus operandi of those old songs as sonic acts; performed as an act of remembering, identifying and organising. In this age, where a lot of our protest is dished out in a sedentary position, Jones’ pieces could act as a memory spell, the songs there to be carried about in your head, or shared on the data harvesting platform of your choice. At other times they offer a clear choice of action. The very affecting ‘Soul Transplant’, possibly the album’s highlight, brilliantly downsizes the palavers over immigration question to bare essentials, and constructs an inspiring alternative based on sharing of what we all hold dear.

Musically, there is a lot to say for Renegade Psalms. The feeling we are in the company of both clear principle and seductive poetics (and some musical talents not to be sniffed at) is never far away. Now and again there is a Wicker Man-esque cunning and charm about the marriage of music and words. This trickster nature is possibly heard in the string swell on ‘Demonise of Die’, where the wash of strings plays off against a piano stab that could have been an off-cut from Church of Anthrax. The opening sample to ‘Bring It Back Home’ is also a lovely woozy moment, allowing the track to steer a suitably Utopian course. The crisp, clear diction and the solid, deliberately repetitive nature of the score also brings the work of Ex guitarist Andy Moor and Anne-James Chaton to mind. Or that mental Sidney Poitier record when the famous thespian recites Plato. It’s not often that John Robb’s punk spirit gatecrashes the party; maybe we hear it best on the machine-fed guitar crunch of ‘For Sale’. There’s a nice Will Sergeant-style guitar tail out on “hidden track”, ‘Then They Came’, too.

What is most enjoyable about this record, though, is its consistent, continuing emotional and spiritual clarity. Solidly constructed, the clear sense of musical direction allows the rhythmic nature of the texts to shine through. And, driven by the clever simpatico swells of the music, Jones’s plea to build human relationships offers a humane and inspiring set of options for those choleric keyboard warriors to ponder. Addictive and pretty brilliant, I’d say.
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Renegade Psalms is out now. Order here

More about: Manic Street PreachersThe Membranes