Considering the momentous connotations of the occasion, The Manic Street Preachers were decidedly lame and predictable tonight, as the world strode boldly from one century into the next. Just when it seemed the vitriolic decadence of yore might return, culminating in a gloriously timed explosion of passion and power, the bubble burst. Before any music was even played, the warning signs were there, as 50,000 fans were presented with mountainous obstacles in their bid to even get a drink. The band had personally promised drinks at normal pub prices. They lied. Less than a pint of Carling doesn't cost £3 in the dotmusic local.
Not that the Cardiff Arms Park management could actually organise a piss up. Half the bars in the stadium failed to open, and the ones that were open, were surrounded by such a crowd that getting a drink took over an hour. Forgetting the fact that sobriety is hardly a desired mind-set for New Year's Eve, 1999, The Manics arrived and begin with on paper a fiercely manic opening salvo.'You Stole The Sun From My Heart', 'Faster' and 'Everything Must Go' were all unleashed, but only really displayed the band's penchant for tepid bombast that has taken over in recent years, since the aural violence of 'The Holy Bible' strolled off in Richey Manic's head.
The pedestrian free-fall of much of the first half of the show was exaggerated by virtually the same set list as seen at Glastonbury and V99. The band displayed perfunctory and laconic 'qualities', pausing only once - before new single 'The Masses Against The Classes' - not to spill enlightenment but to tell us to buy it. Why we should, when underneath the supposed splenetic rage, is just a pale cartoon imitation of former glories, full of faux adrenaline and overblown anger, is anyone's guess.
Just as things finally started to get going with 'Motown Junk' and 'Motorcycle Emptiness', the band shuffled off stage, saying they'd return in 20 minutes, after midnight. So, did they open the stadium roof to let us watch a holocaust of fireworks overhead? No. The video screens cut to the BBC. Instead of staying in on New Year's Eve, and watching TV, we get to go out. And watch TV. This is living. Having said that, the atmosphere improves and it almost feels like a party, the crowd in unison singing 'Auld Lang Syne' and 'Let It Be'.
After the fun, James Dean Bradfield returns and continues the set acoustically, with 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You' and an emotionally charged rendition of 'Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky', dedicated to Richey Manic. 'Australia', 'Elvis Impersonator' (at last a surprise track), 'You Love Us', 'Stay Beautiful', continue the mini resurrection and with a swift Nicky Wire insult thrown-in at the French, a boulder of momentum starts to roll over the audience, at long last.
'If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next' and 'A Design for Life' push the audience a little closer to the stars as the set closes in a blitzkrieg of passion and fire. And it's over. While the other members stroll off, to their Champagne and luxury toilets, Nicky Wire surprises no-one with his destruction of the stage. Failing to destroy his bass, he passes it to the crowd, where it is ripped to shreds.
Overall, a disappointment and not just because of the band. If you are going to play to an audience the size of a small city, then you need to be more charismatic, display some showmanship and style.
And if you're going to play on New Year's Eve, especially this one, as few bands correctly - attempted to, it needs to be special. Tonight, unfortunately, was just another Manics show. And surely we've all seen enough of those this year.
