Spiritualized - The Complete Works Part 1

Jason Pierce's first redemptive floatings in space

'The Complete Works Part 1' charts the early Nineties transition from the dopey dirges of Spacemen 3 to the intergalactic splendour of Spiritualized. As with any project ruled absolutely by the vision of one individual, the music of Spiritualized has taken many a voyage to the ends of its own rectum since S3 were flushed away. Of course space rock lends itself to this, being the sexier little sister of prog - it's genetically inclined to bloat. But there are many more occasions in this collection where you can't conceive of removing anything from a track. All is in its place, sprawlingly precise and spectacular - take out that minute tinkling in the background and it's ruined.

The collection gathers scattered B-sides, fan-club-only flexi-discs and split singles; while compilations of this nature are generally just dribble trays for completists, this one is rather more appealing in and of itself. Containing every possible version of several tracks ('Feel So Sad' 7" version, Rhapsodies, Glides and Chimes, taken from the 'Medication' EP...any more?), it somehow manages to escape tedium. Boil-in-the-bag remixes these ain't - they require a far more poncy term suggestive of infinite and daunting imagination that hasn't been invented. Also, it sounds less disjointed than most bundles of this sort do, the long tracks oozing over each other like one long sleepy sigh. Even the heavy blasts of brass and thunderous basslines don't jar - everything is overtaken by eternal soothing. (Except '100 Bars' which is quite chilling.) It sounds like the peace that descends among the smithereens of all your crockery after a howling fit of fuse-blowing frustration. Somehow rooted in breakdown, Spiritualized began by synthesising misery and bliss into shiny redemption, and have done so ever since with pretty amazing consistency and sincerity.

At a time when the loutish groove of baggy was clutching culture by the crotch, Oasis on the way to give a less friendly squeeze, Jason Pierce was tinkering with stardust. This was eventually to lead to the refined, holy throbbings of 'Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space' and the shattered stained-glass of 'Let It Come Down'. It isn't always interesting to listen to a band's initial gropings towards themselves - it isn't often beautiful. This is. Part 2 comes out later this year; allow yourself a troubled, lopsided smile.