Yesterday marked the 20th anniversary of one of the greatest albums ever made, Manic Street Preachers 'The Holy Bible'.

I didn't hear the album until a good 3 years after it was released, but I knew from about 30 seconds in it was unlike anything I'd ever heard. It scared the shit out of me. I also immediately knew it was masterpiece.

It's the soundtrack to depression spiraling into madness. It's the darkest, bleakest music ever committed to tape. It's the sound of one man trying to keep it together and finally realizing his mental health is beyond his control. Needless to say it struck a nerve with me no other record before or since ever has.

I've sang it's praises for 17 years, yet somehow at the same time telling people I can't really recommend it. A strange dichotomy no doubt. It's an album you're either mentally prepared to deal with or you're not. You either get it or you don't. No one ever has ever heard it and been ambivalent. At times it's both beautiful and painful to listen to.

It's not a record I could listen to every day, but it means as much to me as anything ever recorded. Happy Birthday you miserable, glorious bastard.