Manic Street Preachers are a band with a story. Centred for many around the enigmatic and increasingly iconic figure of Richey James Edwards, who disappeared in 1995 and was declared presumed dead in 2008, that story has been revisited and alluded to countless times in interviews, magazine articles, and, especially at the moment - in the introductions to reviews of the ninth album by the band, Journal for Plague Lovers. The story is so oft-repeated that to mention it again here serves only to show some of the context of this album, and to underscore the enormous expectation on the shoulders of the band as they release and promote these songs.When the news emerged that the band had built the new album entirely around lyrics left to them by Richey in the weeks before his disappearance, and that James Dean Bradfield was apparently playing "ice-cold, Holy Bible-esque" riffs in the studio, many leapt to the conclusion that this new record was to The Holy Bible Part II in all but name. But we were foolish, in retrospect, to ever really take such suggestions seriously. The Bible is generally accepted to be the band's magnum opus, released in 1994 but still one of the most cathartic, profoundly disturbing, and outright brilliant albums of all time. That was then, and this is now - that album is utterly unrepeatable, and the Manics understand this better than anyone. Across their lengthy career, they have always been a band of reaction, making increasingly radical leaps in style between albums. The band are far too intelligent, too understanding of Richey as a person and a lyricist, to think that a repeat of their work with him would be wise, just because they believe that now happens to be the time to use these unearthed lyrics. Whilst the process of making those words into songs has led the band into creating an album perhaps more akin to the early albums than say, Send Away the Tigers was, the reality is that Journal for Plague Lovers is a genuine progression, a fusion of old lyrics with music which is determinedly of the present.Steve Albini, long regarded more as a recorder of albums rather than a producer, has proven to be an ideal choice to help the Manics construct this record. As a document of the way the band play today, Journal for Plague Lovers has them sounding more engaging, more lifelike, more vital than they almost ever have. Albini has helped the individual performances shine - James Dean Bradfield's vocals and guitars are as superb as ever, but Sean Moore's drumming sounds fantastic (especially on opener "Peeled Apples"). Even Nicky Wire, regarded by his critics as a mediocre bassist at best, puts in some of his best work in years. His vocal performances have become more common over the years, but his efforts on closer "William's Last Words" contribute enormously to the hugely touching, string-laden song. This is a taut, concise album where nothing is ever strung out or repeated any more than is strictly neccesary - that makes it an addictive listen, especially given how gorgeously hook-laden and full of great choruses the album is. That concise nature puts this in the vein of Future of the Left's forthcoming second album, but what makes JFPL even better than that record, though, is how diverse it is - besides those brilliant spoken word snippets returning from The Holy Bible, there are appearances of harp, strings, acoustic guitar, drum machines (!), piano, and even a bit of "A Day in the Life"-esque studio effects.If there is a worthwhile comparison to be made with The Holy Bible, it is a contrast in tone. The Bible was claustrophobic, dystopian, abrasive, oppressive, but from the humour to the guitar tones, JFPL is bright, frequently optimistic, even joyous at times. The two albums are equally cathartic, ultimately, but in radically different ways. There's something enriching and affirming about this album, by comparison to the band's earlier exercise in purification by fire and torment. A prime example is the brilliant "Marlon J.D.", definitely among the album's strongest tracks, which combines those drum machines with some of Bradfield's most wonderful guitar work and a beautifully simple, dramatic chorus. Other highlights include the beautiful, stop-start "Facing Page: Top Left", an almost solo acoustic number from Bradfield, but for some tastefully employed harp, and the throbbing "Doors Closing Slowly", the albums slowest number which asks, "who threw the first stone / if the stone is you?"To know that all of the fantastic lyrics by Richey are treated like this only increases the impact, as this album allows us to see his words in a new light, which is often far brighter than the contexts of the past. Maybe, as many have suggested, this really is his swansong. Maybe it is, after all, the sound of a band coming to terms with the loss of a key member, of a group of men coming to terms with losing a friend. What is important is that the Manics are as important as they have always been, still a glorious fusion of excitement and intelligence, and that they are now fully regenerated, producing some of their most accomplished music ever. Bradfield recently gave an interview in which he said that melancholia was all very well, but the life-affirming potential of rock music was that it could temper that melancholia with some healthy aggression. Consistently terrific, Journal for Plague Lovers is as good a demonstration of those ideas as you could hope to discover. 94%Manic Street Preachers on MySpace