A track appearing on the Manic Street Preachers' 1991 debut album, the ambitious double-length Generation Terrorists. It was also released as a single in 1992 along with "Bored Out of My Mind", "Crucifix Kiss", and two versions of "Under My Wheels", one recorded in studio and the other a live cut. It reached number 20 in the UK music charts before falling into relative obscurity.

It also featured on 2000's greatest hits compilation album, Forever Delayed, albeit in a form cruelly edited for length -- the original version runs just over six minutes, where the Forever Delayed edit runs less than five.

Lyrically, it is stunningly articulate and poetic; most of it was written by Nicky Wire before his work was overtaken by facile rhyme-for-the-sake-of-rhyme, and it serves as a welcome reminder of the glory days of the early 1990s when the Manics still knew how to rock.

Musically, it is nothing short of breathtaking. To label it "the perfect pop song" along with the likes of Love's "Alone Again Or" wouldn't be much of a stretch.

This is early Manics at their best -- Situationist-inspired lyrics and catchy accessible rock fuelled by a Les Paul driven chorus and heroically anthemic stadium-rock vocals from James Dean Bradfield. A repeating 80s-style keyboard riff underneath cements it together and provides a sturdy foundation on which the rest builds to a satisfying climax, grounded by Sean Moore's unpretentious but effective percussion.

Bear in mind that in 1991 the Manics were newcomers to the UK rock music scene; clad in leopard-print and heavy black eyeliner and armed with youthful idealism, they wanted to change the world. Their ambition was clear: upon first appearing in London after being signed to a record deal, they vowed to sell eighteen million copies of their debut album and then split up.

With more songs of the quality that defines generations like "Motorcycle Emptiness", they probably could have.

The band's two lyricists -- Nicky Wire and Richey Edwards -- were more than musicians of dubious proficiency (it is said that Edwards was unable to play the guitar that he was given, and onstage was little more than eye candy dressed in provocative clothing). They were also avid students of punk culture and the philosophers and thinkers that fuelled it. In particular, the works of Guy Debord on the spectacular nature of society in The Society of the Spectacle played a prominent role in the formation of their ideals; "Motorcycle Emptiness" itself can be seen as a scathing commentary denouncing consumerist desires ("life sold cheaply forever"), which emphasises the importance of this influence.

Richey Edwards, shortly after the 1994 suicide of Guy Debord:

True force. No copyright. No rights reserved. No motorcycle emptiness. No modern life is rubbish. No time. No history. The time of life is short, and if we live, we tread on kings.

What does any of this have to do with motorcycles? The song's chorus was inspired by the 1983 Francis Ford Coppola film Rumble Fish, an adaptation of a novel by the same name written by S. E. Hinton. Particularly relevant here are the references in the story to the Motorcycle Boy, former gang leader turned nihilist who denounces all aspects of his former life in a desperate attempt to save his younger brother from the same fate. Dubbed "Camus for kids" by some, this example of nihilism in pop culture was pounced upon by the "glamour twins" and amalgamated into their lyrical philosophy.

The phrase "neon loneliness" comes from a poem by that same name written by Nicky Wire's brother, Patrick Jones, sometime poet and inspiration to the band. References to and sampled pieces of his poetry read aloud litter not only this song but also the entirety of Generation Terrorists, most notably in the spoken-word introductions to "Crucifix Kiss" and "Love's Sweet Exile".

The album sleeve contains a fragment of a literary quotation relating in some way to each of the songs on it, perhaps to up the intellectual ante and cause it to be viewed as an incendiary work of art rather than a mere punk-saturated rock album. For "Motorcycle Emptiness", the accompanying quote is from American poet Sylvia Plath: "I talk to God but the sky is empty." Taken out of its context and thrown instead into that of the song, it smashes to pieces the pleasant façade of transcendental pop and brings home the sense of nihilistic despair that colours the track and infuses it with power beyond the sum of its parts.

Sources: http://www.manics.nl Generation Terrorists, released 1991 by Sony Music UK. All lyrics to Motorcycle Emptiness quoted here are copyright the Manic Street Preachers.