Obviously my feeble words and thoughts won’t add anything new to everything which has already been said about this album. For my part it is still my favourite Manics album, possibly my favourite album of the nineties, and undoubtedly one of the greatest albums of all time. From the cover art to the artwork between the out of sequence lyrics in the book, from the terrifying lyrics themselves to the almost overpowering brutality, pain, and love of the music it is flawless. If you want bleak, go for the original British version; if you want somthing with a bit more oomph, go for the re-released American version. Buy the 10th anniversary and get both. A simple glance at the song titles is enough to create unease, and from start to finish it portrays a mind, a human at breaking point, stretched sinuous until there is almost nothing left. Angry, fierce, quietly tender, overflowing with despair, regret, humour, and a final yearning for hope it nevertheless ends on a high for me with PCP; one last fuck you to the world, to the self, and a backs against the wall defiant cry of triumph.
Songs coming soon…
The Spac Hole 
it’s time to eat biscuits. like driving a vauxhall to the bridge and not jumping off. shrek, eating a watering can.
Like doing a Bungee with Ron’s in(Ards)nards. Like coming back from a twenty year voyage through the Spac and making a new album consisting entirely of sounds made by falling on jelly from assorted heights.