And so we reach another moment where a song from a specific album won’t be showing up again in this “series”. Everything Must Go by Manic Street Preachers has a solid spot in my top three favourite albums by the trio. Released after a year of adversity instigated by the disappearance of guitarist and lyricist Richey Edwards, the album was like a phoenix rising from the ashes, as it gained critical and commercial success spurred on by its “hits” like its Bond-esque theme title track and the classic ‘A Design for Life’. Had the stars aligned, there would be two more posts on here dedicated to ‘Australia’ and ‘Enola/Alone’. That would be over half the album on here. Things just don’t work out how they’re meant to sometimes.

‘Removables’ is the album’s eighth track and has the distinct characteristic of being the rawest, bare-boned song on there, both in its lyrics and its music. The song is one where its words are written entirely by Edwards, who (to understate it in the largest of ways) wasn’t in the best state of mind before his sudden disappearance, and appear to be a general account of his thoughts about himself and the human race as a whole. A possible reference to his self-harming (“Broken hands never ending”) and a hope for any voice of reason to get him out of an ‘aimless rut’ are stated. The bleak outlook is summarised in the song’s chorus. “All removables/All transitory.” People walk by and think nothing of you, you’ll never see them again. People are born and then people die. Nothing is meant for forever. Honestly, it’s all quite sad.

In terms of the music, the band allegedly cut the song in one take and put little time into its production. You can sort of tell too. Maybe apart from a few guitar overdubs, the track does have a grittier, modest type of production to it that sets it apart from almost every other number on the album. It follows somewhat simple chord progressions all throughout, switching from a sadder minor key in the first half of the choruses to a confident major one for the second. And the big highlight is probably when James Dean Bradfields breaks into his shouty vocal style in the second chorus, with a simmering tension built from the minor key underneath it. The arpegiatted chords that trail off and sort of linger at the song’s end leaves things just a bit unresolved and unsettling. ‘Australia’ starts right after it, though, and takes you on a whole other journey altogether. ‘Removables’ may not be a song that the majority of Manics fans return to. I don’t know, I just have that feeling. But it’s one of my favourites, so I hope what I say hear will urge you to listen.