Aural Fixations
MANIC STREET PREACHERS
The Holy Bible
(Epic/Legacy)
Superstars in the U.K., Wales' Manic Street Preachers have never managed to build more than a small (but devoted) cult following in the United States. Indeed, its third album The Holy Bible, considered by many to be the band's best, was never released in the colonies. So it's surprising that Legacy decided to give the 1994 record the super-deluxe reissue treatment here, with two CDs (one the aborted US mix of the album) and a DVD (not included in my advance copy, alas). Both audio disks included demos and live cuts, but none of them improve or detract from the studio tracks. And that's what's really important here: the stateside release of the original album.
On the band's first two records, the Manics went from the landmark politically-aware glam rock of Generation Terrorists to the uneasy and surprisingly unpalatable mix of Nirvana, Queen and Guns 'N Roses on Gold Against the Soul. After the arena-ready dynamics of those records, the quartet decided to strip their style down to its roots in late 70s postpunk. That's not to say any of the songs here hit the minimalist groove of Wire or Gang of Four; singer/lead guitarist/chief composer James Dean Bradfield has way too much love for melodrama for that. But the often-overheated grandeur of the first pair of albums is toned down on The Holy Bible, letting the songs stand up for themselves more nakedly. Which is perfectly appropriate with the Manics' aims—this is the most lyrically complex set of songs in the group's career. Guitarist/lyricist Richey James Edwards channels his own inner torture into a seething broadside against fame, capitalism, ego and, most importantly, deceit. Railing against what he sees as a system that gives its populace lies about freedom and opportunity even as it sucks them dry of wealth and vitality, Edwards fills tunes like "PCP," "Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayit'sworldwouldfallapart" and "Archives of Pain" with vitriol-filled soundbites that show more ambition than Dylan at his most potent and more anger than any saint to which Metallica prays. "Mausoleum" and "The Intense Humming of Evil" even take on Hiroshima and Dachau and manage to keep their weighty subjects and bitter philosophizing from sounding pretentious. Of course, that's partly due to Bradfield's delivery, as he cloaks Edwards' missives in roiling rock & roll that boils like a turbopowered coffeemaker before exploding in passion and fury. Combined with his venomous singing, Bradfield's music and arrangements give Edwards' words the brittle, exciting backdrop they need to avoid being overbearing.
While Generation Terrorists can be heard as simply a damn fine glam rock record if one is inclined to ignore lyrical sentiments, The Holy Bible allows no such luxury. You have to contemplate the meaning of the songs even as you sing along and swipe at that air guitar, and the melodies don't really catch hold until a few listens in. In England, the album sold bugger-all and is still overshadowed by the unsolved-to-this-day disappearance of Edwards, who took a mysterious and probably fatal powder in the Thames before it was released. But the album remains an intense experience for both fans and band, and is recommended for anyone wanting a break from the conventional. With its unrefined rage and uncompromising libretto, The Holy Bible is a challenging, even bittersweet experience, but an affecting one. Michael Toland [buy it]
