Mclusky

With a singer who yelped like a crazy shithouse rat and riffs that bounced like a skateboard on a trampoline, Mclusky spent nine years as an underheralded punk fixture in Britain (and a semicult favorite in the U.S.) before finally packing it in last year. To say goodbye, the group assembled this scrapbook for the loyal, a three-CD set that degenerates from A-sides to B-sides to "C-sides": buzzy, unlistenable leftovers and a concert set that sounds like it was recorded from the men's room, of which the highlight is a fight with a heckler. Discs two and three are clearly for fans only, but those fans will run around forcing everyone they know to relive singles like "Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues" and "To Hell With Good Intentions." Who else could cobble a great riff to a Bill Hicks line and turn it into a classic?