Right now I've got my magnifying glass out, I've been poring over wikipedia, seeking out snippets of TV circa 1994, listening to a hell of a lot of the Manics. I'm constructing a retrospective identikit of the band, and all the insanity starts to make so much sense.
My investigation began at the record shop. An addiction to 'If You Tolerate This…' informed me to search for the band's 1998 album This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours Yet as I hurriedly sorted through 'M' and I was presented with yet another greatest hits my heart filled with disdain. In my moment of helplessness I saw it, jammed to the right of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.Gleaming in spite of the poor alphabetisation, there stood The Holy Bible. Literally. The Manics released the album back in the early 90s, I'd heard of it, I'd even listened to a few snippets and promptly disregarded it, but in that moment I needed to have it.
I parted with my £3.
I could immediately see why I might have bounced off the record the first time round. The album is strewn with dialogue samples seemingly intent on assuring the listener that this album is most definitely about humanity's darkest aspects. It can come across as overtly pretentious. The songs are relentless as they are over-complicated. They shift with no remorse, presenting you with too many hooks to count and then snatching them back before you're done with them. Meanwhile, the vocals feel as if they've been awkwardly shoe-horned in between all the post-punk fury and off-kilter guitar parts.
That would be because they were. While the rest of the band would whip songs into shape, about 80% of the lyrics on The Holy Bible were penned by Richey Edwards, the band's manic depressive secondary guitarist. He would soon disappear, leaving his Vauxhall Cavalier to be found near the Severn Bridge. Richey's lyrics make for an uncomfortable listen not just because of their subject matter, but were evidently written with little concern as to how they could practically fit in a song.
As a result The Holy Bibleis largely set apart from the deluge of perfect singles which lent Britpop its name. But the Manic's third record is nonetheless tinged with an unintelligible and raw passion – so much so that I felt compelled to keep pressing play, and with every listen the album made more sense. For some, familiarity with 'Live Forever' may breed contempt, but I'd say its absolutely necessary to interpret and enjoy the bizarre brilliance of The Holy Bible.
And that is something about music I'll never understand: How can I truly enjoy listening to music as negative as Nine Inch Nails and Joy Division? Whatever the answer, The Holy Bible more than deserves a place alongside The Downward Spiral and Closer.