m b v
The main feeling that Kevin Shields felt upon the release of *m b v* in 2013 was relief. The process of making his band’s third album—and first since 1991’s era-defining *Loveless*—had begun almost two decades before, and, after a last-minute race to complete it before a planned tour, it was done. “We had a six-month tour in front of us and we literally just finished it in time,” Shields tells Apple Music. Continuing a theme begun by *Loveless* and 1988’s *Isn’t Anything*, Shields compromised nothing on *m b v*. This time, though, it was a totally independent production, all on him. “I spent about £50,000 mastering it,” he says. “If we were with a record company, they would have been going absolutely crazy, but we paid for it ourselves and we put it out ourselves and we made a lot more money than we would’ve made if we’d put it out on a label.” *m b v* began back in 1996. The band’s classic lineup had started to disintegrate, with drummer Colm Ó Cíosóig and bassist Debbie Googe departing. Perhaps in a reflection of this unsettling period, Shields began to approach songwriting in a much more experimental manner. “I went on this process of recording a lot of ideas in a purposely abstract way,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to write a song with a beginning and an end. Instead of writing a part in a song, I’d record it and then record another part. I was doing the writing process and the recording process at the same time but in different ways. It might be weeks between a verse and a chorus…well, I don’t do choruses.” The idea was that eventually these ideas would form a coherent whole that would be a new my bloody valentine record, but the project stalled in 1997 when Shields ran out of money. “And then I started hanging out with Primal Scream and I kind of drifted into that world, which was fun for quite a while.” It wasn’t until Shields was remastering the band’s back catalog in 2006 that he listened back to the unfinished sessions. “I realized it was actually better and more relevant than I thought it was,” he recalls. “I’d kind of forgotten about the more melodic parts of it and realized they were quite strong. I thought, ‘I should finish this and make it into an album.’” It was a freeing process, Shields says, filled with lots of “crazy shit.” At one point, they paid to fly people from England to Japan with proofs of the artwork because they didn’t trust just seeing it on a computer. “We were literally throwing money at it to make sure it was as good as possible,” he says. “Every single penny was justified.” By the end, Shields felt vindicated. “We did it our way and it was perfectly good.” No my bloody valentine record ever sounds of its time—they all sound like the future. But there is something especially reinvigorating about listening to their third album, perhaps because of how unlikely its release seemed at points. To hear Shields still erecting signposts on where guitar music can go on the sensational closer “wonder 2,” which sounds like a rock band playing drum and bass from inside the engine of a 747, or the slo-mo sway of “if i am” is to be reminded that this is a visionary at work. One of the central themes of *m b v*, says Shields, was a strong sense of everything coming to an end. He thinks that’s why it still resonated when he listened back in 2006, the feeling growing as he recommenced work on it in 2011 and even more so now. “We’re in a cycle of the world of things coming to an end and moving into a new phase,” he says. “The record is more relevant as every decade goes by.”
Almost 22 years after My Bloody Valentine's last album, Kevin Shields has completed this stunning followup. What My Bloody Valentine have done is take the precise toolkit of Loveless and made another album with it, one that is stranger and darker and even harder to pin down.
If a band’s career trajectory is a graph of its leader’s life, Kevin Shields is batshit. It’s taken him and his pioneering shoegaze group, My Bloody Valentine, 22 years to release MBV, the follow-up to its legendary sophomore album, Loveless. During that time, Shields produced very little, outside of the occasional…
Boldly ignoring the anticipation, mbv triumphs by forging its own distinct modern dialogue, rooted in its own imaginative time and place, perhaps even dimension.
Before this review goes any further, let’s reflect: It’s 2013. After years of hype, rumors, heartbreak, internet hints and…
The turn of the century was a time of great productivity for Kevin Shields. He toured and recorded with Primal Sceam, his arrival inspiring the band to produce their last essential album, XTRMNTR. His contribution to the soundtrack for Lost in Translation was widely praised and proved he was still capable of writing – and crucially, releasing – great songs. Yet as satisfying as that was, it could never compensate for the lack of material from My Bloody Valentine. The Anglo-Irish band, led by Shields, had seemingly passed into musical mythology.
When Radiohead put out The King of Limbs online with just five days' notice, Al Horner wrote an excellent blog post on how the immediacy of the release spelled impending doom for music journalism. Now, with m b v, My Bloody Valentine may have perfected th
My Bloody Valentine's first album since 1991 is cell-purging noise-pop that doesn't disappoint, writes <strong>Kitty Empire</strong>
Kevin Shields breaks some new ground with his band's first album since 1991. But some things never change, writes <strong>Alexis Petridis</strong>
The oddest thing about My Bloody Valentine's new album MBV is listening to it via digital files says Bernadette McNulty.
Over 20 years late, the sonic voyagers return to put the pretenders in their place. New music review by Kieron Tyler