Manic Street Preachers – Rewind the Film

With five singers and a musical style that veers from folk, through motown via euphoric indie rock and back to cinematic brooding, the Manics' eleventh album is a strange, disparate beast; easy to like but difficult to love. Opener, This Sullen Welsh Heart, has bassist Nicky Wire singing like a man on a long walk home after closing time, before frontman James Dean Bradfield saves it with a reflection on identity and defiance.
 
The number of vocalists adds as much as it detracts, giving Rewind... the feel of a rarities collection more than a record with something unique to say for itself. Folksters Lucy Rose and Cate Le Bon’s contributions are lovely – their own understated, wistful tones adding layers to the overall introspection and sadness, while veteran Sheffield rock'n'roll troubadour Richard Hawley is less impressive on the ponderous title track. 

Their teeth are finally bared on album closer 30 Year War, with an attack on the Government’s 'endless parade of Etonian scum,' but their fondness for ending records on a duff tune hamstrings the admirable sentiment, leaving it hard to shake the feeling that the Manic Street Preachers still have better in them.