Only in that brief moment in the '90s, when the record industry was grappling with the impact of alternative rock going mainstream and just as Brit-pop was hitting its stride, could release such a dark, difficult album on a major label, get it played on such pop-oriented programs as Top of the Pops and MTV's Most Wanted, and make appearances at the Glastonbury and Reading festivals. And then, in a flash, it was over. went missing on February 1, 1995, and after that was frozen in amber, forever seen as his last will and testament, just like how seemed like a suicide note in the wake of 's suicide in April 1994. After ' disappearance, plans for an American release of the LP were shelved, but in retrospect, it's likely that -- like some latter-day albums -- would never have had an American release at all. To those who know the album -- and it's a small, dedicated group of partisans who do, since not only didn't it see American shores for a decade, but it didn't sell as well as previous or subsequent albums in the U.K. -- it can comfortably be compared to 's , but that's not quite accurate, no matter how much inspiration drew from . is a sprawling, exuberant celebration, so generous and big-hearted it can't be contained by a single album, whereas is a bleak, introspective, insular album that's bracing in its darkness. It's not that deliberately alienates listeners, but that it wears its pain too openly and presents it too vividly to be an easy listen. It can be a cathartic experience, but it's the kind of experience that doesn't lend itself to everyday listening: not only was it too dark, it was too English for a mass American audience, but years later, those things don't seem to matter as much, and in its tenth anniversary edition it can finally be seen -- and easily heard by American audiences -- as a singular, bracing rock album, quite unlike any LP before or since. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine