I must admit that in hindsight, Volume One of the Mekons' new collection of outtakes sounds like barely-significant recorded refuse compared to the previously discarded gems that surface on the second installment. As usual, the band achieves a sort of effortless diversity, and controlled recklessness throughout. They succeed with constantly shifting variations on their tough-to-categorize, whiskey-drenched sound.

Believe me, there's lost treasures aplenty here, matey. The first nugget we discover is a wonderfully dirty, rust-eaten cover of Ray Davies' "Fancy." And soon we wipe some dust off Sally Timms' near-perfect "Nice Julie"-- a sparse whisper of an acoustic number with a spine-chilling electric guitar solo rocketing midway through. The hiccuping Gene Vincent-styled rock of "East is Red" finds the Mekons at their rootsy best. And, of course, their surplus Englishness really spills over (mostly to comic effect) on the immaculate cover of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues," making for a bit of hero-worshipping fun.

But just after you're hit with the two-chord country-punk majesty of "Where Were You," written around the Mekons' heyday of 1978, you're knocked right back off balance by the odd rhythmic stagger of a couple of synth-based numbers. And you've got to hear "Crap Rap"-- a track penned by those atonal Aussie socialist rockers the Ex-- to really believe it. The compilation ends on yet another surprisingly strong note, with still more of the Mekons' strange Fairport Convention- meets- Blasters- meets- beer hybridized rockabilly.

The actual "production" on this record is gloriously ragtag and appropriately careless. You'll find the occasional deliberate goof-off half-songs, with cheesy synthetic drums, backwards and slowed voices, and cheap home-taped Casio-based kinda stuff. Luckily, those frivolous moments aren't as prominent here as on the first volume.

As for most bands-- including what's left of the Beatles-- it's probably best if the members stay clear of basements, old trunks, archives of any kind, closets, or anywhere else shit-canned demos may be lurking. But hey, as bands age, the creative process becomes more and more tedious. Cobwebs form in the old brainpan. It seems only natural they'd feel the need to discover lost outtakes and other crap that suddenly sounds worthy of public consumption. Truth is, even the stuff the Mekons once considered to be garbage is a lot better than, say, Wolfie. And to recast and recontextualize an old quip from Lou Reed, the Mekons' shit is worth most people's diamonds.

-Michael Sandlin