Arguably the defining document of the nascent post-punk era, Wire’s Pink Flag took the sharp edges and compact, no-nonsense form of punk rock (note that most tracks here are under two minutes in length, and a substantial number are under one minute) and put them to use in defining an artsy and unsettled and entirely original sound. Even when they’re kind of shouting (like on the herky-jerk “Field Day for the Sundays” and the headlong “Mr Suit”) they’re shouting differently. Many other bands took ideas from this album and ran in their own directions with them, changing the trajectory of rock music significantly in the process.

Where it all began, fine, but what was it? What Newman, Gotobed, Lewis and Gilbert did was pick up the rough branches of punk and immediately refuse to do anything obvious with them. Simple chords, easily understood words, and yet none of it seemed like rock or was reassuring or fun in any known sense. It was like some sub rosa sect had busted open the jukebox and learned all the hits of the Sixties and substituted discarded short stories for the existing lyrics. Pink Flag hasn’t aged half a day. Is Wire the most awake band ever, or just the most unsentimental?