Yahoo! Music Review

Released on 07/05/07
Label: Columbia

Perhaps the strange, higgledy piggledy career of Manic Street Preachers makes sense after all, as a life in fast forward. They exploded on the scene with the teenage tantrums and gusto of "Generation Terrorists", before hitting the brick wall of adult disillusionment on "The Holy Bible". After the storm of Richey's disappearance came the calm and maturity of the thirtysomething "Everything Must Go" before the gradual decline towards the confused, middle aged ramblings of "Lifeblood".

Which makes "Send Away The Tigers" the old age album, and thank God for that. Not the sound of exhaustion and apathy, but the kind of old age when you shake off duty and indulge eccentricities, caring less what people think. The Manics sound more exuberant here than they have in years, perhaps ever. Usually so weighed down by their heavy past, they suddenly sound as raw, fresh and playful as if they'd met a week ago.

It's clear in the beefed-up, boisterous sound of the opening title track, as meaty guitars wipe-out the anaemic synths of "Lifeblood". Then there's the hit "Your Love Alone Is Not Enough", with its shamelessly dumb repetitions and revving guitars, and the Cramps-like scuzziness of "Imperial Bodybags". This is back to basics stomp rock, aimed at gut and foot over brain, with only "Autumnsong" slipping back into maudlin mid-pace.

If there is a downside to this what-the-hell approach, it's in the lyrics. While still capable of the occasional brilliant flash - "Good God, I feel like a liberal" on "Rendition" - a lot of this album finds Nicky Wire on lacklustre form. The dumb sloganeering of the single is one thing, but the excruciating Manics-go-emo of "Underdogs" ("This one's for the freaks / For the lost and the weak / For the butterflies and devotees") is another. That isn't eccentric old age, that's senility.

Still, foolish mis-steps aside, "Send Away The Tigers" is not only the most enjoyable Manics record in years, it's the most consistent, from the grandiose, classic sound of "The Second Great Depression" to the surging strings of "Indian Summer". Their best work may be in the past (there's nothing here to match the majestic "If You Tolerate This…" or "No Surface All Feeling") but so, thankfully, is their worst.

If this proves to be the end of the life and times of the Manic Street Preachers - and there is certainly the feel of a last hurrah to proceedings - it's been a hell of a journey. Thanks for most of the memories, boys.

    by Jaime Gill