Of course, it’s shoddy. Expecting the Mondays’ comeback to be anything other than an ethically vacuous cash-in is like asking crocodiles to go vegetarian. For the self-righteous, there’s plenty to bitch about here. There are no new songs, two lamentable cover versions and the art work is the ‘Wrote For Luck’ sleeve with ‘Greatest Hits’ embossed on it. A classy labor of love, this isn’t. While The Stone Roses were cross-pollinating The Byrds with Ecstasy, the Mondays were creating nu psychedelia a decade before MTV even noticed. Their sound, a chemically warped asylum of Ibizan club culture, Joy Division records, gospel, Funkadelic riffs and Old Trafford euphoria, should never have fitted together – but it did. Maybe it was because they always had the courage of their convictions. They’d try anything once. The 15 tracks featured here show you how these gonzo drug fiends stumbled from the scratchy death disco of ’24 Hour Party People’ to the Detroit electro of ‘Wrote For Luck’, and from the dense, echoing psychedelia of ‘Mad Cyril’ to the joyous house inspiration of ‘Step On. It also makes you realize that more often than not, they had chaotic inspiration above and beyond anything their peers had to offer. So yes, this album stinks. Thing is, though, it stinks good.