Manic Street Preachers
Lifeblood
(Sony)
Fatalists will tell you all relationships are doomed to die, but that's something I would never have believed of my relationship with the Manic Street Preachers 10 years ago.
In those early days of glam and glitter - when the Manics were the arch-enemies of everything that was decent in pop; when bassist Nicky Wire taunted R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe to die of Aids; when tragic guitarist Richey Edwards pulled poses not seen since the days of Sid Vicious; when singer James Dean Bradfield spat the bitter poetry of the dispossessed and oppressed - they were the most vital and visceral band on the planet.
And then they gave us this: probably the worst piece of middle-of-the-road junk since Dana won the Eurovision Song Contest. A band that did irony so well - witness their debut Generation Terrorists - now stoop to pastiche to sell a political agenda even they don't appear to believe in.
