MANCHESTER IS MORE THAN A MUSEUM

by Kyle MacNeill

When the Manchester Museum reopened in February, it saw 50,000 visitors in the first week – equivalent to a 10th of the main city’s population. Swinging open its neo-Gothic doors for the first time since 2021, the museum’s £15m metamorphosis cements a new commitment to communities across the world, while creating space for ones closer to home. In many ways, it’s a metaphor for Manchester’s own reframing. To those outside it, the city is something of a museum. Its sonic landmarks – half e Old Grey Whistle Test (Joy Division, e Smiths, Buzzcocks), half rave whistle (The Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, Oasis) – provide a tour of the UK’s entire alternative music history. e spirit remains – it still feels like you might bump into Bez pre-Hacienda at Night & Day. Some institutions seem like they will live forever: the “emporium of eclecticism” A lecks recently celebrated its 40th birthday, with legendary record shops Eastern Bloc and Vinyl Exchange not far behind, while Sam’s Chop House is still serving at 150. It still has its fair share of local legends too, from long-spinning DJ Clint Boon to Boombox Barry, known for cycling around town blasting rave tunes out of an Ikea bag. While the city relishes in its relics, it is no artefact. “What Manchester does today, the rest of the world does tomorrow,” went Disraeli’s slogan during the industrial revolution. While “rest of the world” might trouble our humility, the city has regained its future-facing status. It’s partially thanks to a huge amount of investment and construction; a double-edged shovel which threatens the relative a ordability of Manchester but also increases its cultural capital. ese multipurpose venues show a new side to Manchester, more acute than the usual angle of humble, honest, wi y, gri y. Sure, Manc has a warmth and wicked sense of humour that London can’t match, but it’s also ambitious – not ready to accept its Second City status. Its bees are busy, not bumbling. e city’s new high-rises aside, there’s a lot more going on closer to the ground

Much of this investment has gone into central creative hubs, o ering food, music and art under one roof. e latest of these is Factory International; again, an homage to the past – Tony Wilson’s Factory Records – that’s rooted in future culture. As the new home of the cu ingedge Manchester International Festival (MIF), it promises boundary-breaking curation. Scores of other venues in Manchester are booming right now, many of them also involved in MIF’s citywide celebration. For arthouse bu s there’s cinema HOME, for laptopclubbers there’s Ducie Street Warehouse and for musos, there’s New Century.

Soon to join is Soho House Manchester, set in the old Granada TV studios in Spinningfields. It’ll feature sizable event spaces, a rooftop pool, an in-house motel-diner and a range of state-ofthe-art wellness facilities. We’ve finally got our northern powerhouse.

– and under it. Adventurous nightlife has always been part of Manchester’s rapidly beating heart. White Hotel and its gothic sister venue, Peste, range from gabber to organ recitals; Derby Brewery Arms switches between pub and club, and longtime staple Soup blends a casual upstairs bar with a basement for nascent club nights.

Ancoats is a swankier affair, with its natural wine bars and avant-garde food. It’s become a fixture of best-district lists across the world, but friendly inner-city competition is tight: the Northern Quarter leapfrogged it in Time Out’s latest list – a testament to the constant seesaw of where’s coolest. It’s hard to keep up, but that’s part of the rush. In a city that’s changing so rapidly, there’s a belief that, creatively, anything can happen. While those stopping by for photographs with Mark Kennedy’s mosaics on A lecks or snaps outside Salford Lads Club will always be welcomed, people are now making a beeline towards the city for the now and the new. Crucially, too, they’re staying. A few weeks a er the Museum opens, I find myself confronted by the perfect metaphor. catch Boombox Barry hurtling down Oldham Road again, as usual. nearly spit out my la e; Barry’s no longer on his bike. Instead, he’s whizzing past on an electric scooter, gearing up for a new era. Queue up, the future’s here in Manchester – and we’ve got it a day early.

Kyle