The Manvils

The highlights on Buried Love add up to a real feast. The oohs on Bible Billy(which could be from Rust Never Sleeps); the oohs on most of the songs, as a matter of fact; the elastic riff that powers Between the Lashes, the new wavey Undertow wherin vocalist Mike Manvilles croon falls somewhere between Richard Butler and a cock rock Morrissey sponsored by Schneiders Hot Rods. Missing You made me think of the Gun Club. Vancouver is full of amazing rock bands all of a sudden, and these guys are the dark horse who will probably get their due when its too late, but make no mistake: Buried Love deserves huge raves. Im raving. The band has precious chemistry and the frontman is ridiculous. Plus, the cover is insane. - Nerve Magazine

Another worthy listen is The Manvils' latest '70s-inspired guitar-o-rama, Buried Love. It was recorded in various sessions with Terry "Sho of Sho-Core" Murray and Jay "Spitfires" Solyom at the boards and is a hell of an album. The band fall somewhere between Kula Shaker and The Stooges and are cranking out some great stuff. - Chart Attack

I don’t know how The Manvils do it, but they do. Unlike acid-wash jeans, this Vancouver-bred dirty rock group could easily slide into any one of the past four decades and no one could say they’d be at all out of line. That’s not to say The Manvils don’t possess any denim-esque qualities – even after multiple uses, their songs are tightly woven and fit perfectly.

Releasing their first full-length album under the helpful wing of The Spitfires’ Jay Solyom, The Manvils are a fresh face on the North American garage rock scene and definite proof that you can teach new dogs old tricks. From the opening track “Missing You,” to the closer “Crowded Room,” the action-packed 44.7 minutes of “Buried Love” is a spicy rockabilly highway that picks up friends along the way and has more parties than is advisable. Singer Mikey Manville ties all of the melodic licks and stone-solid drums together with a voice that could inspire just as many riots as The Clash’s Joe Strummer did back when none of The Manvils existed. Thank god for reincarnation. - Youthink

When Manvils frontman Mike Manville and lead guitarist Mark Parry show up for an interview at the Georgia Straight, only one of them looks ready to rock. The woolly brown sweater Manville’s chosen for the occasion doesn’t seem stage-worthy, but—resplendent in a pinstriped blazer set off by a scarf and a Mods button straight outta Brighton—Parry has the U.K. pub-rocker look down pat. Toss him a top hat and he’d look like he stepped off the London Quireboys’ tour bus, circa 1984.

Parry moved here from Wales in early 2004 and spent nine months searching for a band that could benefit from his rough ’n’ tumble guitar style. While studying Web design and multimedia at UBC, he tried out for a few groups, but the auditions led nowhere. Then he received a fateful call from Rogers Video regarding a DVD order. “I got this message on my phone one day sayin’, ‘Oh, your Stars Wars trilogy has just arrived.’ So I go in and this guy [Manville] says: ‘You look like you might be into some good music, where are you from’ When I told him I was from Wales he goes ‘Super Furry Animals!’, so I was real impressed that he’d actually heard of a band from Wales.”

With Winnipeg-bred bassist Greg Fuhr and drummer Andy “Chilliwack” Mac already lined up, Parry was the last element in the rock machine Manville was priming for world domination. And the quartet gelled from the get-go. “The first time the band ever played we just started on a blues riff,” recalls Manville, “and it turned into a 35-minute song. When we were done I was like, ‘So, are you guys in?’ and two weeks later we played our first show.”

Like Parry, Manville is a relative newcomer to Vancouver. He moved here from Hogtown in 2000 and embarked on a solo career. “I did tours and gigs from here to Nashville,” he explains of his pre-Manvils period, “and it was what needed to be done to bring what has happened now to fruition. The five years of singing on your own basically teaches you how to control your voice, and how to keep your mental stamina up.”

Manville’s staying power, along with his manic on-stage persona, has helped make his group a contender on the local indie-rock scene. That promise is embodied by the Manvils’ debut CD, Buried Love, which will be showcased at a Honey Lounge release party on Saturday (April 15). Recorded in two separate sessions by producers Jay Solyom and Terry Murray, the 10-track CD is an in-your-face boogie-blues blast with an old-school bent. “We’ve been compared to the Stones and the Yardbirds,” notes Parry, “but personally I don’t think we sound like any of those bands. I grew up listening to the Jam, the Kinks, the Small Faces, and when I listen to the record and I can hear bits and bobs of my influences in there—as much as I can hear bits and bobs of everybody else’s influences.”

Adds Manville: “For myself it was like from Tom Petty back to Johnny Cash, and even older Americana stuff. So it’s like this blend of complete British psych-rock mixed with old American country. But, you know, it’s got a helluva lot less country in it.”

Whatever its roots, the Manvils’ raucous sound has won raves from alternative media sources like the Nerve, which earned the music mag a shout-out in Buried Love’s liner notes. “As a new band, you need someone in the scene telling you that they like what you’re doing,” cites Manville. “The Nerve wrote us up shortly after we had played our third or fourth show, and we couldn’t believe the applause that they were giving us.”

The quartet has also been encouraged by some high-profile opening gigs, like when they warmed up for Stereophonics at the Commodore last year. As inspiring as that supporting slot was, though, it could have led to the demise of the fruitful Manville-Parry partnership. A week after the show Parry received a call from Stereophonics’ manager, saying the Welsh trio was looking for another guitarist to help out on its world tour. “The bastards tried to steal Mark!” blurts out Manville, although Parry wasn’t swayed by the offer. “Walkin’ into an established band like that you’re just gonna end up bein’ a session musician,” he says, “and you’re not gonna be able to put your own flavour into it. With this band, I really believe that we’ve got something, that we can go places. The Manvils are number one.” - The Georgia Straight

Girls were screaming, hands on face, giggling, jumping, jiggling, screaming, wavering, dancing throwing panties on the stage. It was like the second coming of Elvis or the Beatles. The guys were all staring, dumbfounded. Mikey Manville pulled one of them dramatic, show-offy flailing arm guitar strums; a girl in the front row faints. Three more take her place. The whole band was in high form. Electric... The new messiah of rock n roll. What charisma. What style. See those white, leather boots? Thats what Im talkin about. The Second Coming.. I have never seen a room filled with so many hot, sexy women and hot, sexy rocknroll as this one. Ten bucks got you in, along with a souvenir copy of the silvery rock gem that is Buried Love It was no wonder the place was wall to wall; a crotch to ass, drunken rock orgy. Everyone seemed high, the walls were shaking between songs from the techno-bass bleeding in from next door, and I had my hand on some strange girls ass. It was a good night. - The Nerve Magazine

It's been some time since an opening band has played to a crowd near full capacity at the Commodore Ballroom. What made the Manvils' set more remarkable is how they're still new to the local scene.
Not only did they have solid songs and a distinct sound - think Velvet Underground and Rolling Stones offset with a strong blues touch - they also boasted a great stage presence. Comparisons to the Kings of Leon and the Strokes aren't justified: the Manvils have stronger songwriting than the Kings of Leon and Mikey Manville's gritty vocal delivery and stage antics make him a more compelling frontman than the Strokes' Julian Casablancas. - North Shore News

Combining sugar-buzzed power pop with shots of blues-exploded rawk and psychobilly country, the Manvils can take credit for getting the crowd revved up. The street-level buzz on these guys grows every week, and the group showed why. Keep an eye on these guys—there’s a good reason everyone is talking. - The Georgia Straight

Considering the wealth of under-produced and occasionally underwhelming indie pop emerging from Canada these days, it’s almost a relief to hear a band like Vancouver’s the Manvils turn up their amps, throw a few high kicks and just, you know, rock. Boasting a throwback ’60s blues attack that’s all swaggering licks and soaring, throaty wails, Buried Love is packed with the kind of self-assured strut rock that’s been shaking the dust loose from the roof beams of seedy, beer-by-the-glass house band joints across the country for decades and damned if it doesn’t sound like a good time. A notably top-heavy effort, standouts come in the first five tracks with “Between the Lashes,” which seems guaranteed to drag even the drunkest party girl to the dance floor with it monstrous, string-bending riff and Cadillac Tramps-esque hoots and hollers, as well as the stand-and-sway heartbroken lament of “Bible Billy.” Things taper off as the album wears on, however, filling up space with forgettable snoozers like “Over These Hills” and the Headstones-infused “Can You Feel Me” before culminating in the whale-sized, eight-minute blues jam of the title track. While Buried Love might try your patience every once in a while with its indulgences, it’s nonetheless a confident and promising debut.

By Chris Boutet
September 07, 2006 - Exclaim! Magazine

The Manvils are an easy combination of cool-drippings and shit-hot-rockings. And Manville himself is a mover + shaker to say the least. He's a tall, lithe guy with limbs that stretch to infinity, and those limbs are just about breaking the walls down with his danceaholic energy. He skitters around on stage, knocking into stuff, shimmying up to his band mates, leading clap-alongs and eventually throwing himself into the audience in a heap and just letting everyone catch him. - Chord Magazine

Everything about these guys is big - like if they were a porch, there'd be enough room there for the entire plumbers' local 332 and a couple of kitchen sinks. A pair of guitars, piano, thumpy drums and the kind of singer who does all his singing with his lips. This Vancouver quartet goes from atmospheric "thinking about breaking up with my girlfriend" kind of mellow billowy songwriting, to "thinking about breaking up with myself" freight train blues smokestacks in the clear blue sky sort of rhythms. There's something about them that makes me think of Not Your Soldier Anymore-era Deadly Snakes, 'cause they're hard to pin down, but end-to-end the songs are all pretty catchy. - Ottawa Xpress