There's something about the additional discs of demos and rarities, and the DVD of documentary footage that suits an album intended as a one-shot multi-million-selling magnum opus.
Ironically, some of the things I disliked about the Manics – the arrogance, the pretension, the endless cultural references – now appear attractive in our neutered pop age. The music, once derided as sub-Clash, now has an astringent edge that we could use nowadays. At its best – notably the rebellious desolation of "Motorcycle Emptiness" – there is an undeniable majesty about the Manics' project.
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