Journal for Plague Lovers, the first Manic Street Preachers album to feature monsieur Richey Edwards’ ramblings as lyrics in a tad over a decade leaked a while ago. I did tell myself to wait for the album release but eventually I crumbled and downloaded away. I was too curious. Manics are one of my very favourite bands and certainly the most important band in my musical life as discovering them was the start of my music obsession and foundation of my tastes. And quite frankly, I wanted to see if the fears I had were correct. The last album, 2007’s Send Away the Tigers was a gigantic disappointment, not only because it was genuinely awkward but also because for a fanboy who’s last brand new studio album from the band he loved (2004’s Lifeblood) was such a gigantic moment of personal bliss, feeling nothing after hearing Tigers was… bad. On it, the band decided to try and imitate their past – on Journal for Plague Lovers, the band openly said that they didn’t mind if it would be compared to 1994’s The Holy Bible, Edwards’ last album with the band before his disappearance/suicide and a critical classic. Would they copy the past unconvincingly again?

I was scared for nothing. Journal for Plague Lovers really is quite spiffy.

You see, the thing with Journal is that it does not try to repeat anything the band’s done before. The words might be their ex-bandmember’s and the content in them might be quite dark, but musically Journal for Plague Lovers is actually some sort of progression. The band had been toying with short, inspired rockers in-between the Lifeblood and Send Away the Tigers eras before Tigers came out as sort of a roadblock. Plague Lovers is what things like “A Secret Society” or “Leviathan” paved the way for. The average track length is somewhere between 2:30-3 minutes and the songs are playful. Sure, a lot of Journal for Plague Lovers is serious – the lyrical content is pretty dark throughout and a fair amount of tracks are aggressive or melancholy, but each and every one of the rocking tracks sound like the band had great fun in thinking how to approach them musically. Loads of little quirks are present in every song and some are even downright joyous and pop-like: “Virginia State Epileptic Colony” is the most upbeat sounding track with such a name and its “pig pig piggy!” chorus is sheer hilarity in all the possible good ways, while the radio “single” “Jackie Collins Existential Question Time” soars high and beautifully with its gorgeous signature riff and would make a perfect proper single. Well, at least until about 30 seconds before its end it turns into a fierce, angry, violent rockout. Which is awesome.

Musically the album is split into two different themes. On one hand we have the short, guitar-heavy rockers filled with energy. Curiously the songs are almost completely devoid of James Dean Bradfield’s typical soloing, preferring to keep things short and compact. This manages to suit the songs surprisingly well; bitesize chapters and statements to quickly smack you in full speed before making way to the next. The fact that most of these songs are laden with simple hooks helps this. On the other hand, there’s the tender, melancholy acoustic side. The band’s always had a strong acoustic side and it’s made some strong appearances before (like the ramshackle acoustic rockers of Know Your Enemy) and once again I’m left wanting a full album of the band embracing the acoustic side. These slower, more fragile songs also show up Journal for Plague Lovers’ more melodic, sweeter side as most of them are enhanced with gorgeous string sections. While Manics have usually been the sort of band where strings mainly just act as another straightforward way to fill the sound instead of your usual organ, the strings on Journal are elegant, vibrant, living with the music. This creates some hair-raisingly gorgeous moments: the already lovely “This Joke Sport Severed” is truly lifted up into something jawdroppingly beautiful when the strings appear halfway through the track in a downright epic and blissful manner.

The vast Manics song catalogue gets some excellent additions with Journal’s release. The two preview tracks, the bass-crunching “Peeled Apples” and the already mentioned “Jackie Collins Existential Question Time”, sound even better with proper sounds and in context. “Marlon J.D.” storms furiously over a high-speed lo-fi electronic beat before morphing into an aggressive post-punk blitz in its chorus and becomes the album’s grandest middlepoint statement. The jangle pop sweetheart “Virginia State Epileptic Colony” is not only brilliance in its tongue-in-cheek chorus but in the fantastic little keyboard part that pops up halfway through. “She Bathed Herself in a Bath of Bleach” might sound like a pretentious nut to crack based on its title but once it starts with its intro lifted straight off from R.E.M.’s “Begin to Begin” and continues to its “jump and shout along in the gig’s front row” chorus, it’ll dawn on the listener that despite the title it’s just damn fun. Which is somewhat of a theme during the whole album – there might be heavy riffs and heavy moods, but it’s all done with a joyful, refreshed mindset. “Doors Closing Slowly” is one of the more intriguing songs: not only because it’s pseudo-legendary because it was one of the very few song titles known around when Richey went missing, but also because the brilliant “Picturesque” from the God Save the Manics EP that was at the time touted to have Richey lyrics seems to have borrowed half of its lyrics from this one (as well as “All Is Vanity”). It’s also a brilliant song outside its reputation, one of the few songs on the album that truly feels like the sort of pressured dark everyone was expecting. And even when the rest of some song leaves a bit cold, you can always count on the chorus – maybe it’s because of the decision to have everything bitesized and short ‘n’ sweet but every single song on Journal for Plague Lovers seems to be heavily centered and focused on the chorus, each one being nothing short of brilliant even if the rest of the song isn’t a very favourite.

One of the best moments on the album are experienced at the very end though. The closing “William’s Last Words” is a sudden twist in every way. For one, mood-wise it’s mellow and almost optimistic. The acoustic-lead full band backing is calm and rich, fitted together with a sugary sweet string section and floating around beautifully without a care in the world. It’s almost soft and fluffy. It’s also fully sung by the bassist Nicky Wire (outside a brilliant sounding James cameo that really should have repeated at least once more) and while his tuneless croaking is a definite Marmite issue (I love it. The voice I mean. Not Marmite), on William’s Last Words he sounds reserved and quiet, moreso whispering the lyrics out rather than trying to sing. At first it’s slightly odd but soon it comes off as touching – the lyrics to William’s Last Words are a sweet, heartfelt goodbye to friends and family at the end of one’s life and it’s pretty easy to try and fit it to the now-gone Richey. Which is why the song acts as a perfect closer – a goodbye of sorts at the end of an album that’s essentially a tribute to the wordsmith. It manages to be really touching, even if you’re not much of a Richey fan like yours truly.

There aren’t actual proper weak spots on the album, only minor complaints. A few songs do not do much outside their chorus such as “Pretension/Repulsion” but nothing is downright crap. The hidden track “Bag Lady” is a nifty little aggro-rocker but in the completely wrong place, breaking the flow and mood set after William’s Last Words (it remains to be seen if it’s a separate track or hidden after a long silence on the actual album). Richey’s lyrics are what they are – it would be daft to say that the whole album suffers from poor lyrics because even those who do not like his lyrical style have to admit that the man could sometimes create a damn great line or two. However, like the songs so are the lyrics: fragmented bitesize-snippets. Separate sloganeering sentences loosely tied with a general concept and often equipped with some really, really cringy lines.

But the lack of weak spots isn’t to say that Journal for Plague Lovers is some sort of a second coming of a holy being quality-wise. It’s a damn good, often even really great album, I can state that. But is it one of the band’s very best? No. Even despite its brilliant moments the song material on average isn’t as great as on many of the band’s other albums. This mainly speaks for the high quality of other releases rather than against Journal, mind you. Journal’s biggest asset though is its spirit. As much as I think Lifeblood is my favourite album of all time and the band’s greatest moment, it’s also an album born out of heavy introspection and desire to not speak to the world; not a bad thing by any means but definitely a different attitude for the usually outspoken band. During Send Away the Tigers the band wanted to speak to the world again but sounded uninspired, bored and even somewhat tired. Journal for Plague Lovers showcases the band in a rejuvenated streak, a burst of energy and joyful inspiration. And unlike with SATT, this time the band doesn’t seem to give a sod about how the album’s received or how it’ll appear to the public eye (as showcased by the lack of proper singles and minimal touring). They’re just doing what they like in a renewed creational spree. That’s the best thing to a Manics fan. Well, that and having a damn good album in one’s hands obviously.

Now, how’s about that acoustic heavy album up next, guys?

(apologies beforehand for those who came to this article looking for MP3s – it’s quite dodgy to hand out leaked stuff so no go there. Do your own pirating)

Peeled Apples (radio rip)

Tags: Manic Street Preachers

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