As Garbage prepare to unveil their superb new album Let All That We Imagine Be The Light, alt.rock icon Shirley Manson reveals her “love harder” approach in a crumbling world, how she’s found strength again after surgery last year, and her unapologetic pride in still not being a part of “any scene or any algorithm…”
Shirley Manson came home from the last Garbage tour in a wheelchair, declaring herself utterly “broken”.
The legendary band had to cancel all remaining 2024 shows after an old injury – originally sustained when Shirley fell offstage in 2016 – flared up. She had a second hip replacement and endured months of agonising rehab, plus heavy doses of painkillers, leaving her bedbound and clouding her consciousness to the point where she couldn’t even watch TV.
The incident compounded what she describes as “three years of troubles”. On top of her health woes, there was also the Los Angeles fires (which came so close to her house that her neighbours rang, asking if she wanted anything saved), the re-election of Donald Trump, the wars in Palestine and Ukraine… The sort of nightmare dystopian world, in fact, that she predicted on Garbage’s last record, 2021’s No Gods No Masters.
“I’m finding the world really difficult to navigate with joy,” Shirley admits as she welcomes K! for tea and biscuits in a fancy hotel in London’s West End. “I cry every single day at what I’m seeing unfold on my phone. It’s hard to feel great when the world’s insane. But I’m healthy, my body’s back to working, so it’s good…”
And, indeed, it’s clear that Shirley has got back the fire, verve and irrepressible zest for life that has made her an iconic figure, ever since Garbage emerged 30 years ago this year.
You can hear it in the defiantly positive grooves of the band’s new album, Let All That We Imagine Be The Light. And you can see it in her eyes as she talks passionately about her drive to make the world a better place.
“I can either be completely destroyed by what’s going on, or I can engage with action, love and kindness,” she says. “I have to believe it does matter what we all do individually.
“I have no control over saving the children of Gaza,” she says. “I cannot save the Ukrainian people. All I can do is try and love harder on my family, my husband, my animals, the earth, my band, my community. I can tend a garden, I can help a neighbour. And I refuse to be obedient and allow the people in power to destroy my resistance.”
That proactive mindset is all over the brilliant Let All That We Imagine…, made remotely as Shirley recovered, while the band – completed by drummer Butch Vig and guitarists/multi-instrumentalists Duke Erikson and Steve Marker – sent her regular musical “gifts” via email.
Plagued by brain fog, Shirley struggled to create at first but, one day, she put on her headphones, the mist lifted and she conjured a set of songs that find the upside in even the most negative situations.
So, There’s No Future In Optimism – sparked by the oppressive atmosphere in LA following the murder of George Floyd – finds a love story amidst a disintegrating society. Chinese Firehorse takes a stand against music industry ageism and sexism (“Men are suffering under this system, too,” she says. “They’re expected to go to war, be tough, have a big dick, to not be at home catering to the children’s needs…”).
Meanwhile, Sisyphus puts herself out there as a champion for oppressed groups (‘Saint of children / Saint of kin / Saint of trans and black skin’). That echoes her social media presence, where she regularly speaks out on social issues and the wars in Palestine and Ukraine, particularly their impact on innocent children. She always chooses her words carefully but, given the recent furore around the more provocative Kneecap, is she concerned about the possible consequences of speaking out?
“It’s not something I really worry about,” she sighs. “Because, if I am cancelled for advocating for children, then that is a price I’m willing to pay. If I’m punished for speaking out about the slaughter of a civilian population, so be it. I can live with that.
“Are [Kneecap] perfect?” she asks. “No. Did they make a mistake? Probably. But surely we can allow young artists to make mistakes? I would beg anyone, instead of punishing people, to educate themselves so they are fully aware of what this whole thing is about. Did they say something that hurt some people? Yes, they did, and I’m sure they will live to regret it. But when we get to a point where we’re just cancelling anyone who’s in disagreement with us, it’s a very slippery slope.”
So, Shirley will keep fighting, although she insists she’s not the impervious, indomitable figure people have often perceived her as across eight albums and classic anthems such as Stupid Girl, I Think I’m Paranoid and Shut Your Mouth. And, indeed, the album’s beautiful closing song, The Day That I Met God, casts her in a whole new, vulnerable light.
“I’ve only just started to understand that I come across completely differently from the way I actually am,” she admits. “I want to be gentle and kind with people, I don’t want to cause anyone discomfort or harm. But, because I’m such a forceful character, I intimidate people, hurt them or freak them out.
“Of course, I probably wouldn’t have had a career this long without it,” she adds. “But, in my personal one-on-ones, I really do want to be gentle. I want to love people.”
Shirley remains a formidable warrior. She has no time for the wave of ’90s nostalgia sweeping the rock scene (“I was very unhappy,” she says. “I realise now I was not the right personality for that kind of attention and fame”). And she still feels aggrieved about her treatment when the band stalled after 2005 album Bleed Like Me (“People really took pleasure in our fall – I felt very self-conscious about that”).
But she does enjoy her influence on a new wave of stars (“I would love to be cynical and cool about it, but I’m always like, ‘Woo, there’s a Garbage T-shirt in an Olivia Rodrigo video!’”) and she can’t wait to get back on the road, particularly for an August date with kindred outsider sprits My Chemical Romance in Texas.
“I’ve always had a massive soft spot for that band,” she smiles. “I see a lot of male musicians cosy up to young female artists, but I don’t see a lot of them supporting older ones, so I’m very grateful to MCR for that.”
And you can rest assured that a rejuvenated Garbage, with Shirley restored to full fitness, will be more than a match for anyone else out there. Not that there is anyone quite like Garbage, of course.
“We’re not part of any scene or any algorithm,” she declares. “We’ve never been claimed as an American band, a British band or a Scottish band. We’re always one of one.
“I used to worry about that,” she adds. “But now I realise what currency that is. To still be sounding unique, in a scene where 100,000 songs get uploaded to the internet every day? I’ll take that.”
Let All That We Imagine Be The Light is due out on May 30.
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