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Too late. Mclusky are one year gone. For all too brief a time this Welsh trio raged with an energy and humourous eloquence not seen on these shores since the Fatima Mansions disappeared into music business contractual hell. The 12 singles and highlights crammed into half an hour here (unless you plump for the 3-CD set with b-sides and rarities, derided, no doubt unfairly, by Andy Falkous himself in the press bumpf) demonstrate that melodic punk pop need not be the preserve of party-hardened or lumpenemotional frat boys.
They raised the stakes from the start both musically and lyrically: the former sharpened on Big Black's razor-honing whetstone - even before Steve Albini took on production duties - and then driven forward through rap, space-rock but mostly gloriously nasty indie-pop; the latter as witty and insanely quotable as your favourite film - Half Man Half Biscuit without the trivia and with truly worthwhile targets in laser-guided sights. If you missed them and have despaired even for half a second about the drabness of what is perpertrated by boys with guitars these days, you should seek this out immediately.
Actually, it might not be too late. Mclusky may be gone, but their constitutent parts remain. Perhaps we won't be stupid enough to ignore them next time.
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