Manic Street Preachers Album AI Artwork

Greetings, Glancers! I continue my romp through the laughter and boke-provoking world of AI creations. by passing a globby, pixelated eye over musical artwork. Album artwork is a glorious art form – one which doesn’t get enough credit from cravat wearing Art types. Probably. I didn’t bother checking. But a good piece of album artwork can tease the musical and thematic treats inside, like a goblin waving his codpiece while beckoning you into his candy covered hovel. Artists and bands spend weeks and months deciding upon what works and what doesn’t before slapping a big breasted leather clad woman straddling a tiger on the front and confidently nodding their heads – yes, that’s the one.

In this era of AI witchcraft, the artist has every right to shiver in the foreboding knowledge that they will soon be out of a job like the rest of us. Why spend thousands of dollars on a commission from some dick who dropped out of school with no qualifications and likely has a social media picture of them holding a cup of coffee and looking wistfully off to the left, when you can type a few prompts into an app and get something unique and nightmarish for free?

For this post, I typed the name of every studio album by Wales’ finest Rockers into one such app and have specially curated the results for your bemusement. From start to finish, may I present, The Manic Street Preachers – AI style.

The Manic Street Preachers have been around for so long now that they’re reliably labelled as Dad Rock by people who don’t know any better. After their run of hits towards the arse end of the 90s, and the fact that they’re no longer as energetic as they once were, it’s a term which easily fits when you can’t be arsed actually looking into the band. The AI bot has seemingly fallen for this trap too, with a collection of harmless dinner jacket clad images proclaiming ‘we sing songs and play guitar, but not too loudly’.

What’s interesting about the App is that a slight change in keywords can garner such different results. For example, when I remove the band name from the search we get something much closer to what the band were like in their younger days – angry, vitriolic, cross-dressing punk boys who would just as soon plant a bomb in your pants as rip them off with their teeth.

Sadly, the App became too confused when I kept the band name out and would return complete nonsense. For this sophomore album, the band embraced all thing riff and rock in the hope of capturing bigger audiences. It didn’t work, but it’s an excellent album with a flawless five tracks and a middling five. The App cares for none of this and instead latched on to the word GOLD.

The band’s third album is famously one of the greatest albums ever made, and certainly one of the darkest, most uncompromising pieces of art you’re likely to encounter. Its album artwork is a shocking glimpse into what’s inside. The AI bot gets some of the colouring right, and it at least attempts to nod its head towards the albums many, many literary influences and allusions, but it unfortunately makes the band look like if Keane was crossed with PJ & Duncan.

The band’s first success coincided with the loss of their heart, their lyricist Richey Edwards. Continuing as a 3 piece, everyone was shocked when they found themselves topping the charts and courting the Britpop obsessed music bothering public of the 90s. The bot seems confused if they are a 3 piece, a 4 piece, a duo, or just James with a dog’s nose.

Continuing with this trend of uncertainty and rather than adopting the new, bland visuals of the band once famed for their outlandish appearance, the AI bot presents the band as one of warped faces, splayed legs, and very long guitars.

The band’s clusterfuck moment – pissed off with being famous they elected to do whatever they could to alienate every part of their fanbase with 16 songs of fuzzy experimentalism. Curiously, this is the first time the app consistently gets close to actually looking like the band. It has also decided it’s a live album.

By the time Lifeblood came around, no-one cared anymore. The world had moved on to shitty angular indie rock like The Strokes and The Killers, and had no time for Welsh upstarts unsure of their musical direction. The band is a synthpop slice of cold abandonment, and it just as wonderful as everything else they’ve done. Shame no-one else thinks so. The App has gone with a blue sheen, which suspiciously apt.

With Send Away The Tigers, The Manics tried to recapture some of their old punk energy making an album of mostly uneventful and repetitive snappy songs. 80s punk and metal bands liked tigers. The App likes tigers.

Postcards From A Young Man was famously the band’s attempt at mass communication – they thought the best way to communicate was with an overly produced Motown album. What’s interesting about the bot’s cover is the approximation of both Richey, and of Sean Moore who deserves his own pic above. Not sure why he has an electronic bug blaster for his eye, but there you go.

Journal For Plague Lovers was a stonking return to form, even if the tracks feel a little unfinished. The bot has gone for some sort of Industrial-Black-Doom Metal thing with one picture looking like a mermaid drooping out of a moon.

Not sure why I got the order of the last two albums mixed up, but I’m not changing it now. Rewind The Film is the dullest of albums – it’s like the second half of This Is My Truth, played twice. But less good. iTs BeTteR WHen yOU’re OlD! Sure it is, boomer. This blandness has rubbed off on the bot, aside from placing Cristina Ricci front and centre.

Futurology is the much more interesting cousin of Rewind The Film, coming out less than a year later. Much like the album, the bot’s artwork is a mish-mash of ideas, from men in suits showing off their toy soldier collections between their feet, to James’ amazing Matt Bellamy inspired banana guitar.


Unfairly dismissed by idiots as uninteresting, Resistance Is Futile is a fantastic blend of the band’s most mainstream sentiments and their latter day experimentalism. It may not go hard in either direction, but it’s accessible as fuck. The bot believes that obese emo Thom Yorke is now a member and that Wales is a turgid wasteland.

The band’s most recent release saw them grab the number 1 spot in the UK charts. Of course, you only need to sell 300 copies to earn that coveted award, but it’s the principle of the thing. It’s not too different from Resistance Is Futile – there’s still too many special guests, the inspiration is now ABBA rather than Bowie, but even with its pop sensibilities it veers into progressive territory more frequently than they have before. I fully expect a Concept album next. The bot’s attempt at creating something unique fell on its arse.

Let us know in the comments what you think of any of this shite.

(I Miss The) Tokyo Skyline

(I Miss The) Tokyo Skyline: 3

The band has always had a sweet relationship with Japan – in their early days some of their most ardent fans were from Japan, their good friend and photographer Mitch Ikeda is Japanese, and Richey had an affinity with many of the cultural norms. That it took this long to write a song that mentions Japan specifically may surprise some. Perhaps if that ‘City album’ that the band talked about many years ago had come around, then maybe it would have featured something related to Japan. Presumably this song and many of the other recent songs with a city name in the title were borne out of that concept.

Back to the song itself, and it’s another lonely, sad affair on an album filled with similar moments. However, the inclusion of the gorgeous Japanese strings is gripping and startling in its newness, not least because you don’t expect such things from the band, but because you never hear anything like this in modern Western music. That inclusion alone marks the song as one of the more interesting on the album for me. James whispers his way through the verses, and barely stretches beyond hushed words in the chorus, but the emotional core still manages to break through. It can’t quite escape the pervading dullness which seeps through the album. It’s simply another acoustic song with some interesting additions from the Japanese strings and  electronic backing.

The Story Of The Song: I can’t be arsed quote hunting for every track, but given the band’s prior affinity for Japan it seems quite obvious that Nick still holds the Country and its capital in high esteem, even if it’s mainly because he can become completely isolated and unknown in its bustling streets. Hopefully I’m not gaslighting, but it’s not a song about how weird/futuristic/cute the place is, but like Australia it’s more used as a proxy for Nicky’s own desires – to be away, to be alone, to be at peace.


A mostly pseudo Glam-Metal song packed with crushing guitars and little flourishes and riffs as the band takes apart the evils of Consumerism and banking.  The lyrics are exactly as you expect from the young band for a song with this name –  shouty slogans such as ‘death sanitized through credit’ and ‘the more you own the more you are’, though the ‘blackhorse apocalypse I’ve always found particularly apt and descriptive, comparing one of the bank’s mascots to Biblical imagery. The music is hardly innovative, but I do have a nostalgic fondness for much of Generation Terrorists which allows me to ignore what is otherwise a very plain song. The best moment though comes right at the end, with a fantastically creepy piano and guitar piece that doesn’t feel like anything else on the song, or on the album, a moment which (looking back) is filled with eerie, prophetic tones of doom, hinting at a future which has already passed us by.

Nat West – Barclays – Midlands – Lloyds: 3/good

The Story Of The Song: The song takes its title from four major British banks and discusses how much power they wield in society – it doesn’t really matter which one you turn to and as an individual you’re beholden to them from birth. There’s maybe something in there about how financial institutions have become the new religion, the single authority governing society and individuals, though that may be me reaching. Many have suggested the song was written because Nicky was refused a loan – way to get one back!

Misheard Lyrics: Economic fuckers

2. Oh to beat in Asia

3. Apathy is secrecy (I like this one better)

4. Lifeless automatons

Actual Lyrics: Economic forecast.

2. Words of Euthenasia

3. Apathy of sick routine.

4. Life as automatons

Little Girl Lost

A rambunctious, stiff little rocker, this B-side to Your Love Alone Is Not Enough hits the ground running and doesn’t let up. There’s nothing new or surprising here, it’s just a plain, old fashioned rock song with nifty vocals and summery melodies. Nothing special, but fun nonetheless. I like how every second is squeezed for detail – there isn’t a moment to breathe or a moment wasted, no pauses between transitions. James is going full pelt on guitar and in his vocals, with some of his finest snark in their post Rock days. There’s a cool bit of shredding in there for the solo – he doesn’t get a chance to whip out the shred much these days so you can tell when he’s enjoying himself – the extended little string bend right at the end of the solo for example, there’s no need for it but fuck if he’s gonna do it anyway. It’s barely over two minutes long, so even if you don’t enjoy it it’s before before you know.

Little Girl Lost: 3/Good

The Story Of The Song: It takes it’s name from the title of a William Blake poem, apparently. I don’t know if it’s based on anyone in particular, but it feels like another fan service/fan slapping song – both a dedication to and a loving critique of a particular listener.

Misheard Lyrics: 1.Hold you there till there’s nothing left

2. You’ve been looking to hop so soon.

Actual Lyrics: Hold you there till there’s no pain left.

2. You’ve been looking for hope so soon

Foggy Eyes

An entirely lackluster cover for the Indian Summer release, I haven’t heard the original but based on how inane and boring this is I have no interest in seeking it out. It’s another song with a silly filter on the vocals, the guitars are drivel, the band sound like they are playing in their sleep, the melodies are terrible, the lyrics are fine but their delivery is irritating as hell. The majority of the song is based around a very simple riff which repeats and repeats – that wouldn’t be so bad if the riff was remotely interesting or if the verse melody didn’t mirror the riff. There really isn’t anything positive to say about this at all, unless you have a particular affinity for James shouting ‘bang, bang, BANG’ at the end. A low point.

Foggy Eyes: 1/Crap

The Story Of The Song: It’s a cover of a song by Beat Happening (no, me neither). At this point in their career they were chucking any old shite on their B-Sides – lots of instrumentals, covers, and experimental fannying with no real direction. Fair enough.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

The second Manics cover song I ever heard. The first was Bright Eyes, which is both a better song and a better cover. It’s another idiosyncratic cover of a classic song, you’d almost think the band were a bunch of hipsters for covering something like this. Then again, they’ve always liked Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid – the film being name checked in popular B-Side Sepia. This was the band’s first recording after Richey’s disappearance, contributing to the War Child Charity album. It’s an authentic, touching cover and depending on the day I like it more than at other times. I don’t have anything bad to say about it, it’s just one of those songs that I’m too familiar with that I feel locked in by it’s all pervading fame and therefore want nothing to do with it. James does a great job belting out certain phrases with typically Manic phrasing, and it has some sweet horn play in the middle to hint at what would come in their next album. It’s a decent cover, but not one I particularly want to hear again.

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head: 2/Okay

Happy Ending

Happy Ending: 3/Good

As the title suggests, this does sound happy, one of the very few songs in the Manics catalogue that sounds genuinely content. It’s another very simple song with simplistic, poor, repeated lyrics from the Lifeblood/There By The Grace Of God era, and at the time felt like a possible goodbye from the band. The band seemed like they wanted to go in one direction musically, but there was an uncertainty over whether they could convince themselves and fans of this direction, so possibly they would just pack it all in instead. Happily they didn’t, and we are left with this curious, piano driven pseudo-goodbye, pseudo-dedication. The melodies are amicable enough, Bradfield hits some high notes and while the song reaches for those crowd-pleasing chorus peaks the piano makes it feel more like a Coldplay song in places. It rarely goes beyond ‘yeah, this song sounds nice and nothing else’ but it’s enjoyable enough in small doses to keep it higher than average for me, with extra points because the band sound like they are content. 

The Story Of The Song: I’m not sure if the band has ever talked publicly about this one, but based on what they were going through at the time – the downgrading from Stadium chart toppers, the changes in musical and stylistic direction, the boredom Wire was always mentioning in interviews, and of course the lyrics themselves, it seems reasonable to assume they had this planned or written as a thanks and good bye song. It’s a little too soppy in one way for a band as angry and punk as they are, but it does fit. If it was meant to be a goodbye, I’m surprised they released it at all.

Let us know your thought in the comments!

Little Trolls

One of Wire’s finest lyrical moments, this one is a savage response to some journalist’s racist attack on the Welsh; if there’s one lesson folks, it’s that you don’t go up against a Manic in a verbal war and hope to win. The lyrics are of course brilliant; funny, perfect one-liners, and Bradfield’s deadpan delivery is spectacular.

Musically there isn’t a whole lot to say – a simple blending of electric and acoustic, notable only because of the little middle section where Bradfield shrieks like a monster. There are easily missed moments of interest – the acoustic guitars feel like they’re being played with a floor brush rather than by hand, and the electric parts are extra fuzzy. The percussion is light in the mix too.

At its core this is a protest song with a simple hook, and you feel like it wouldn’t be as fondly remembered if the lyrics had been unremarkable.

Little Trolls: 3/Good

The Story Of The Song: Critic, writer, Journo, dead guy, A A Gill wrote a piece on Wales and Welsh people in The Sunday Times for some reason. He didn’t think much of the Welsh, and described them as dirty, ugly little trolls and other such jibes. His comments were even reported to the Commission for Racial Equality, to which he responded that he couldn’t care less as the Welsh have said plenty about the English with no comeback. While much of what was said was done in a tongue in cheek manner, the twat clearly had some deep-seated issues with the Welsh which he covered up with the bravado of Trump-supporting Podcaster. Wire didn’t approve of the insults and responded in kind.

Misheard Lyrics: You taste but ridiculous

2: Pay your dues and pay your tolls

3: Live like animals/Live like Hannah Balls/Live like Anna Boulds

Actual Lyrics: Your taste buds ridiculous

2: Pay our dues and pay our tolls

3: Live like cannibals

Let us know what you think of Little Trolls in the comments!

She Is Suffering

I’ve always felt this to be the weakest song on The Holy Bible – too dreary and too distant from the more severe emotions which run through the rest of the album. This is unusual because it retains the quintessential Holy Bible atmosphere and obviously the Production ensures that there isn’t any other album it would work on. Maybe it’s the pacing -it meanders and plods and remains on a single level. It’s the weakest song, but it’s the weakest song on as perfect and harrowing an album as you’ll ever hear.

It does unsurprisingly have a superb lyric, and taken as a standalone song the melodies and tone work much better versus listening to it on an album run through. The US mix adds more depth and warmth and becomes the more interesting version musically, but it still lacks something which makes me love it as much as the rest of the album. It does have a blistering, basic guitar solo though, always a bonus.

The song was a single, reaching number 25, and accompanied by a truly unnerving and creepy video involving mannequins. It’s not very good, but it leaves an impact which is more than can be said for most Manics videos which are simply not very good.

She Is Suffering: 3/Good

The Story Of The Song: Like much of the album, this song is definitely about something but unlike the more overt political statements or concrete glimpses into Richey’s state of mind, She Is Suffering is more obtuse and open for interpretation. Logic dictates that the key to unlocking the song is deciding who, or what ‘she’ is and why or how she is suffering. Some have tried to identify a real life person, some have said it’s Richey and Nicky equating themselves to femininity, others that it’s the dichotomy between the pointlessness of and need for sex (stretching the narrative to being about a real life story of cheating or betrayal) but the most common interpretation is that ‘she’ is simply the personification of ‘beauty’. Beauty means suffering. Going directly to the source, Richey himself described the song as detailing the horrors of desire and the need to rid yourself of all want to become pure.

Misheard Lyrics: She is suffering upon her death.

2. Beauty she is God

3. It’s not an insult/it’s a body’s soul/into my own soul

4. Carry on

5. Unfair for all

6. The less she can stammer

Actual Lyrics: She is suffering yet more than death.

2. Beauty she is scarred

3. Into man’s soul

4. Carrion

5. Unfaithful all

6. The less she gives the more

Let us know in the comments what you think of She Is Suffering!

Sex, Power, Love, Money

I think I would like this one a lot more if James had picked literally ANY other way to sing than the cringeworthy way he does. Is he rapping, is he speaking? It’s not right whatever it is. The chorus is fine, but the verse vocals make me want to pull my shirt over my face and hide until it goes away. Making matters worse are Wire’s ill-advised bonus vocals building up to the chorus, and the embarrassing old man lyrics. And whatever the hell that cowbell thing is – I CAST THEE OUT! It’s a shame because there’s a better song in there somewhere, and it even manages a decent guitar solo at the end. It’s best forgotten.

Sex, Power, Love, and Money: 2/Okay

Misheard Lyrics: A recycled novel, women inside

2: Its tone is truthful, it really never lies

3: Self fuck your tears as they rain from above

Actual Lyrics: It reads like a novel

2: It’s cold, it’s truthful, it really never lies

3: Set fire to tears as they rain from above

The Story Of The Song: Is it about money and greed, is it about the blurring of political and class lines when you reach such a level of wealth that such things don’t matter anymore? Is it about the self-made tech and social media billionaires? Fuck knows.