It seems more than coincidence that, having waited over thirteen years, within six months of Richey Edwards being declared 'presumed deceased' the remaining Manic Street Preachers decided to use some of his remaining lyrics (culled from notebooks containing what often amounted to little more than admittedly eloquent rambles) to form the backbone of their ninth album. There's a definite sense of closure for the band. By using a painting by Jenny Saville (whose Strategy (South Face/Front Face/North Face) adorned the front of The Holy Bible), there's an argument that the Manics are attempting to distance themselves from everything they've done since. God help us, most of us certainly would.

Really though, cynicism apart, the band sound, in parts, completely reinvigorated and free with as near to the original line up as you can get when one of them is probably dead. Opener 'Peeled Apples', replete with a Christian Bale sample from The Machinist (which, frankly seems a rather heavy handed nod to '4st 7lb'), huge Albini drum sound and the odd trademark stadium rock flourish, is surely the band's single best moment since 'Faster'.

The choice of Steve Albini as producer is a telling one, with the Bleach-era Nirvana intro of 'Marlon J.D.' and the desolate skuzz of the title track an absolute world away from the saccharine sound that they always had in them, but usually suppressed until the late 90s. However, anyone hoping for an album full of In Utero or heaven forbid Big Black style rock are certain to be disappointed. Albini's style has arguably mellowed, and in producing a band that always seemed to me to sound more like Queen than The Sex Pistols, there are moments of real warmth. 'This Joke Sport Severed', one of several ballads, is actually reminiscent of Smashing Pumpkins' 'Tonight, Tonight' with its ludicrously huge string refrain. Anathema to Albini I would have imagined, but the similarity is pronounced.

So what of the lyrics? Well, obviously they're far better than anything Nicky Wire has managed in the interim. A dark soul he may have been, but Edwards was capable of moments of self deprecating humour, with 'Me and Stephen Hawking''s refrain of "We missed the sex revolution when we failed the physical" the obvious example. Elsewhere, we get that peculiar and recurring attempt to shoehorn as many STATEMENTS as possible into a song, regardless of whether they fitted the melody or actually meant anything. So yes, I have the same issues with Journal For Plague Lovers as I did with The Holy Bible and everything previous....it's sometimes ludicrous, occasionally far too safe for a band that want you to believe their middle name is 'Danger' (obviously their middle name is 'Street', but you get the drift), and they still sound more like Queen than the Sex Pistols. But that has still got to be 1000 times better than Lifeblood.