When Manic Street Preachers The Holy Bible was released in 1994 I didn’t listen to it very much. I made the effort to track down an import copy since it wasn’t being released in the US, but the unrelenting brutal imagery of the lyrics was too much for me then. Like bassist Nickey Wire relates in the accompanying DVD, I too was at a very happy stage of my life having just met my future wife. So I shelved it figuring I would come around to really listening to it some time in the future, which is the same thing that happened to me with Lou Reed’s similarly bleak Berlin album.
A few years ago, perhaps sparked by post September 11 fallout, The Holy Bible began to get regular airplay from me. The soul of the band and principle lyricist of The Holy Bible, Richey James, had long disappeared in Cardiff most likely taking his own life by leaping off the Severn Bridge and songs like “4st 7lb” - I want to walk in the snow And not leave a footprint I want to walk in the snow And not soil its purity - and “Die In The Summertime” - Childhood pictures redeem, clean and so serene See myself without ruining lines Whole days throwing sticks into streams - gained a potent power with the personal connection to Richey’s battle with anorexia and possible suicide respectively. I’m still quite snug in the cocoon of domestic happiness, but you can’t keep harsh reality from intruding and The Holy Bible is fearless in illuminating things we normally don’t like to see the light. There is truth in beauty and also unwelcome truth in ugliness.
“Yes” posits a world of consumerism run rampant - And I don't know what I'm scared of
Or what I even enjoy Dulling, get money But nothing turns out like you want it to And in these plagued streets Of pity you can buy anything For $200 anyone can conceive a god on video. “Archives Of Pain” gives the case for capital punishment - If hospitals cure Then prisons must bring their pain Don't be ashamed to slaughter The centre of humanity is cruelty There is never redemption Any fool can regret yesterday Nail it to the House of Lords You will be buried in the same box As a killer, as a killer, as a killer - a right wing move which must have startled some of their fans. They also take on the evil of political correctness on album closer “P.C.P.” - Ten foot sign in Oxford Street Be pure, be vigilant, behave Grey not neon, grey not real Life bleeds, death is your birthright PC she speaks impotent and sterile, Naive, blind, atheist, sadist, Stiff-upper lip, first principle of her silence, Of her silence PCP, a PC police victory PCP, a PC pyrrhic victory When I was young PC meant Police Constable Nowadays I can't seem to tell the difference - but the lyrics on The Holy Bible with their claustrophobic density would all be for naught were it not for the incredible music composed for the album by James Dean Bradfield (is he one of the most unheralded guitar greats of our time?) and Sean Moore. Gone was the heavy metal Guns N’ Roses attack of their first two records, replaced by music just as heavy, but owing more of a debt to the British post-punk bands like PIL, Gang Of Four, Magazine, The Skids, and Wire. “Mausoleum” even gives a nod to American New Wave with its jittery Devo rhythms. I don’t know how such rousing choruses could be coupled with the lyrics on The Holy Bible, but every track sounds like a potential hit as the liner notes to the 10th Anniversary Edition attest.