Wire is having a 40th anniversary. Yes, I feel old.

"Editor's" Note: One Mr. Colin Newman of Brighton observes that it is he who plays most of the keyboards on recordings by Wire. I'm not sure where, or if, I indicated otherwise, but Mr. Newman's contributions (in the studio and to SPEW'S accuracy) are noted. He is certainly an authority on the subject. 

Wire is celebrating the 40th anniversary of their debut Pink Flag with the release of their fifteenth studio album Silver/Lead. 

Wire’s first three records, Pink Flag, Chairs Missing, and 154 formed a blueprint for much of what came next in the wake of punk; showing how the drive and anger could be channeled beyond the roar and rage. Wire did, however, share with the Pistols a sense of the absurd. Uncomfortable with the conventions of rock, Wire set about reworking and subverting rock ’n’ roll. From Flag’s short, sharp blitz of songs to the more Kraut-Floyd atmospheres of Chairs Missing, to 154’s dark consolidation of Wire’s elements (immaculately produced),Wire’s triple-play gave more material for young bands to draw from then any band of their time with the possible exception of the Clash or Talking Heads. And those inspired included everyone from the Minutemen to R.E.M., and from the Manics to every band on Dischord.

As career artists Wire have become a band that makes consistently good records and delivers an extraordinary one on occasion. 2010’s Red Barked Tree was such a record, and I said so in the Kansas City Star(http://backtorockville.typepad.com/back_to_rockville/2011/01/new-music-alert-reliable-wire-and-more.html). 

Silver/Lead is almost in that august company.  It's vice may be its consistency - it does have pretty monochromatic production values - but it's also a virtue, given the quality of the material, much of which has the sweet, but anxious melancholy of Bowie’s Berlin period.

Graham Lewis’s lyrics are existential and increasingly concerned with collisions at the corner of technology and nature. Where his words once leaned toward dada humor, these days he’s more reflective. But this isn’t the Moody Blues, folks; closer to Beckett opining to Camus. 

The role of guitar in Wire has always been about rhythm and texture more than classic rock notions of virtuosity, and certainly since Gilbert’s departure and Newman’s expansion of guitar chores that has consolidated, even with the addition in 2010 of Matthew Simms, who contributes second guitar, synths, and electronics. Consistent throughout, the beautifully meshed rhythm section of Lewis and Grey. The contemporary foursome creates a sound that can be both rawly insistent and cinematically lush. 

For Wire, Silver is almost a straightforward rock record. Their sui generis qualities even yielding certain cuts that remind of the Ramones (“Short Elevated Period”) or the Stones (“Forever and a Day”, one of three Lewis vocals!) the latter is close to an orthodox love song. For Wire, anyway.

“Diamonds in Cups” has T.Rex chug and introduces “a ghost without purpose just wanting to be," a ‘ghost’ just holding out for hope and purpose. “An Alibi” is entirely a collection of questions, culminating with “Do you have an alibi?” “Sonic Lens” has a dark, futuristic vibe that begs for a German expressionist film (“Our eyes were fixed upon the crown, we wore it once; it didn’t fit, we couldn’t make good use of it”). Wire are philosophical skeptics who cast a wary eye on superficial charlatanry (‘Some folks they claim they have the answers, and for a price they’ll share them with you”), to a churning mid-tempo rocker.

“Brio” continues the ecological sensitivity of Red Barked Tree, Newman sings “Six cranes graze a field of clover, three deer hug the forest fringe” (note the ambiguity of ‘crane’ -nice) as the band lays down a soundtrack of twilight driving music. “Sleep on the Wing” offers Eno-like oblique strategies to a syncopated 5/4 beat. “Silver/Lead” refers to “gathering clouds anoint(ing) the dead,” a dirge-rocking, unquiet resolution to the album.

Silver/Lead was recorded, like many of their recent releases, at the venerable Rockfield Studios, outside of Monmouth, Wales. As producer Colin Newman observes “there’s not much else to do there.” There are some lovely walks, a nice churchyard or two, a modestly magnificent Norman bridge and at least one good curry shop … but yeah, Monmouth is quiet. And it’s obviously a tremendous place for Wire to work. If Silver/Lead is indicative. the architects of post-punk can endeavor forever.