So what is there? Something almost too marvelous for words, really: the sound of a band who were quite literally peerless -- their closest cousins, the universally forgotten Clock DVA, sounded nothing like them -- translating their craft, which was essentially studio-based, into the live arena. Live, the studio sheen is replaced by a much funkier (though angular and somehow deeply British) approach to the bass playing, some very dub-heavy guitar flexing, and a different approach to the vocals: necessitated, no doubt, by vocalist Stephen Mallinder being unaccustomed to singing while playing. The difference is a considerable upping of the aggression that usually lay latent on the studio records; it’s more than a little frightening on the sublime “3 Days Monk.” Throughout, there’s the indescribably thrilling sound of raw creation -- only Jah Wobble had anything like the sort of ear it takes to make music sound so simultaneously out-there and zeroed-in, and even his best hours (Second Edition and The Flowers of Romance) lack the Cinemascope breadth of Mallinder and Kirk’s vision. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 [next]