Pienapple Street

Always aware of the import of even their slightest movement, Manic Street Preachers place a lot of weight on their album titles and 2014's Futurology is designed as a conscious counterpoint to 2013's Rewind the Film. That record wound up closing an era where the Manics looked back toward their own history as a way of moving forward, but Futurology definitively opens a new chapter for the Welsh trio, one where they're pushing into uncharted territory. Never mind that, by most standards this charge toward the future is also predicated on the past, with the group finding fuel within the robotic rhythms of Krautrock and the arty fallout of punk; within the context of the Manics, this is a bracing, necessary shift in direction. All the death disco, free-range electronics, Low homages, and Teutonic grooves, suit the situational politics of the Manics, perhaps even better than the AOR-inspired anthems that have been their stock in trade, but the words – crafted, as ever, by Nicky Wire, who remains obsessed with self-recriminations, injustice and rallying cries – aren't the focus here. Unique among Manics albums, Futurology is primarily about the music, with the surging synthesizers and jagged arrangements providing not an emotional blood-letting or call to arms, but rather an internal journey.

A memorable six-night stand in the City of Brotherly Love ends on a high note with some old friends on Philadelphia '99. The 22-song set begins in jaw-dropping fashion with the long-awaited return of “Incident On 57th Street,” last played in December 1980, and features the first Reunion tour performances of “Point Blank,” “Sherry Darling” “Streets of Philadelphia,” “Jungleland” and “Raise Your Hand” to appear in the Archive Series. Philadelphia ’99 also includes one of only five stagings of the epic “New York City Serenade” circa 1999-2000 following a 24-year hiatus.

Taking the hard rock inclinations of Generation Terrorists to an extreme, the Manic Street Preachers delivered a flawed but intriguing second album with Gold Against the Soul. Inspired by Guns N' Roses, the Manics decided to rework their working-class angst as heavy arena rock; they seize upon the latent politicism of Guns N' Roses' tortured white-trash metal, interpreting it as a call to arms. Since the Manics are more intellectual and revolutionary than the Gunners, Gold Against the Soul burns with inspired, if confused, rhetoric. The Manics, however, aren't quite as gifted with hooks at this stage – their power derives from their self-belief, which they can't quite translate into songs.

The Tunnel of Love tour again? That’s surely a sentiment some are expressing with this month’s release of New York 5/16/88, the outstanding opening night performance from the final, five-show stand on the US leg of the 1988 tour.

Months after the release of the harrowing The Holy Bible, Manic Street Preachers guitarist Richey James disappeared, leaving no trace of his whereabouts or his well-being. Ultimately, the remaining trio decided to carry on, releasing their fourth album, Everything Must Go, in 1996. Considering the tragic circumstances that surrounded it, Everything Must Go is the strongest, most focused, and certainly the most optimistic album the Manics ever released. Five of the songs feature lyrics Richey left behind before his disappearance, and while offering no motivation for his actions, they do hint at the depths of his despair.