FILTER REISSUES

On track: The Clash (from left) Topper Headon , Paul Simonon , Joe Strummer , Mick Jones .

Complete control

Everything from 1977-1982 – and a bit more – in a ghetto blaster-shaped box. By Pat Gilbert .

The Clash ★★★★★ Sound System SONY , CD

IN THE book of fresh inner-circle recollections included with Sound System , The Clash’s ‘consigliere’ Kosmo Vinyl describes the group as "a kind of Mafia, with its own rules and codes of conduct" . Indeed: though the ideas that fed into the group’s quest to spark a revolution – in attitude, fashion, political thinking, via rock-reggae-dub cross-pollination – were often chaotic and contradictory, The Clash could always be relied on to give the record company Man a migraine. Be it refusing Top Of The Pops , going "on strike" for artistic control, or ensuring their multi-disc LPs were affordable, The Clash legend was predicated on a value-for-money ideology.

Fast forward to now: with Joe Strummer dead 10 years, everything the group released between 1977 and 1982 comes in a ghetto blaster-shaped cardboard package, with reproduction tour programmes, badges and stickers; a poster in a tube made to look like a giant cigarette; a DVD ; a Harland Miller notebook; and a set of dog tags. Could anything be less in the spirit of The Clash ? Well…

The Clash , to their credit, have always fiercely policed their legacy: sure, there have been regular hits compilations, but in 35 years there have been just two live albums ( From Here To Eternity and At Shea Stadium ), and the only unreleased studio material/demos repurposed for commercial gain are a handful of tracks on 1991’s On Broadway box set and the 25th anniversary edition of London Calling . Few truly release-quality outtakes have emerged so far.

In wresting control of this project, Paul Simonon and Mick Jones (with input from drummer Topper Headon ) have opted against barrel-scraping and have instead created an extraordinary and covetable objet d’art – a playful yet deadly serious time capsule that aims to provide a rounded assessment of what The Clash were all about, sonically, visually and artistically. There are many extras here to pique the completist’s interest, from the whole of the group’s late-’76 Guy Stevens -produced demo for Polydor , through Combat Rock outtakes The Beautiful People Are Ugly Too and Idle In Kangaroo Court , to previously unheard ’78 live recordings. Early 1976/77 Super 8 footage by Julien Temple and Don Letts is here in its entirety, too.

But the real punch rests in the unprecedented clarity of the remastered original tracks, taken in some cases from newly sourced tapes, and the audacious creativity and humour of the packaging. Cynicism evaporates once you lose yourself in the endless detail of the lyric sheets and books that house each studio album, plus the welter of reproduction ephemera: how, at £80 or so, is anyone making money from this? But then, the band always did put presentation above profit. Which makes Sound System a very Clash -like thing indeed.