Manic Street Preachers - 'Journal For Plague Lovers' (Columbia) Released 18/05/09

‘The Holy Bible’ has long been regarded as the finest moment of the Manic Street Preachers’ career. The poetic configuration of lyrics, cacophony of harmonies and brutal honesty sound as authentic and direct today as they did 15 years ago. This was to be the final album the band made together before lyricist and guitarist Richey Edwards disappeared. Last year Edwards was officially declared to be ‘presumed dead’, but before his disappearance in 1995, Edwards handed a journal of work to Nicky Wire – this was it be the foundation for this new record.

Since Edwards’ disappearance the Manics have seemingly leaned towards a melody asserting stadium sound, which resulted in an increase in their popularity. The immediate post Edwards album ‘Everything Must Go’ spawned one of the greatest and commercially successful songs, ‘A Design For Life’. However, the great melodies have sometimes been flawed by fragile lyrics. A quick scan through the booklet that accompanies ‘Journal For Plague Lovers’, and we’re reminded just how important Edwards was to the Manics and intelligent music writing.

The potent and imprinting visuals from opening track ‘Peeled Apples’ solidify the need for a deviation that has been lacking. There are moments of potentially overlooked wit with lines such as, “A dwarf takes his cockerel out of the cockfight”. While the brutal and quick intensity of lines like, “Riderless Horses on Chomsky’s Camelot/ Bruises on my hands from digging my nails out,” give an insight into the final images of this gifted writer.

‘Me and Stephen Hawking’, ‘Jackie Collins Existential Question Time’ and ‘All Is Vanity’ are equally moments of subtle wit, self-exposure and examples of notable characters leaving their mark on Edwards. Then when Wire adds his scratchy vocals to ‘William’s Last Words’ on such lines as, “I’d love to go to sleep and wake up happy,” we are launched into Edwards’ unadorned desire.

The lines of ‘Facing Page: Top Left’ such as, “This beauty here dipping Neophobi,” and the recurring, “Here I am rise and shine,” echo something ironic with shadows of dismay. Bradfield’s strong vocal powers home across serene guitar work. Equally, ‘Doors Closing Slowly’ is as lyrically delicate and open as anything Edwards has written. Bradfield passionately delivers on lines, “Realise how lonely this is? Self-defeating oh fuck yeh,” and “Silence is not sacrifice/ Crucifixion is an easy life.” It’s also as close to feeling in the depths of despair as anything on the album.

It’s somewhat of a double-edged sword for Manics fans. On one hand, the band feels as close to its former self as it ever did. Edwards’ lyrics provide a justice to the story and the band’s interpretations – a justice to the words. On the other hand, we are firmly reminded that this is the closest we’ll ever get to the band being emotionally and spiritually together. Let us not wallow. We should salute the fine effort the band have made. And although they may not admit it, this feels like a cathartic process of closure for all involved parties.