IT was curious knowing what to expect from The Great Western.

Without the pretentious lyrical input of bandmate Nicky Wire to steer his musical outpourings, James Dean Bradfield has produced a surprisingly textured gem that bears little resemblance to the Manic Street Preachers - bar of course the Welshman's inimitable voice.

Gone are the guitar histrionics of Generation Terrorists, while the disturbing themes of The Holy Bible, conveyed with such impassioned vitriol, now seem a lifetime away.

Opening (and standout) track That's No Way To Tell A Lie sets the stall out; its crunching Killers-inflected melody and bellowed vocal creating a bold statement of intent that catches you on the hop.

The album's tempo then settles distinctively into polished power pop rather than the expected buffed to a fine sheen' stadium rock synonymous with the Manics. Which Way To Kyffin and Still A Long Way To Go in particular are bolstered by a languid delivery.

The Great Western isn't merely a vanity project or lazy stopgap for Bradfield; it's a strong effort that projects the sound of an artist striving to make his own voice heard after years of singing the rantings of Wire/Edwards.

And for that he should be commended.