"Smile", by The Fall.
Even though Mark E Smith went through so many Fall members that if they all turn up to his funeral they will need a bigger church.
And even though Fall albums have appeared on more record labels than you even knew existed.
And even though (not unrelated to the previous point) there is a ridiculous number of rarities collections and live recordings out there, most of which are of dubious provenance and even more dubious quality.
And even though there were more eras of The Fall than there have been of human evolution.
And even though no two Fall fans would ever be able to agree on what were the best of those eras.
And even though the sound quality of the band's John Peel sessions frequently trumped that of the actual records.
And even though, in recent years, Smith has sounded more like a drunk uncle crashing a 21st birthday party than the singer in a rock n roll band.
And even though, looking at recent photos of him, you find yourself wondering how he even made it to sixty.
And even though to be a fan of The Fall meant having the patience to sit through fallow periods, sometimes (depending, perhaps, on where you came in) lasting for a decade or more.
Despite all of these things, for those of us captured by their inexplicable brilliance there remained, to the very last, and, as often as not, contrary to all common sense, a genuine sense of excitement, a thrill, every time a new Fall album landed. Sometimes the thrill might have lasted only until the first three or four songs had been endured; but we never lost that feeling.
Like the singer who pulls the plug on the lead guitarist half way through a song, it feels as if the arc of The Fall has been suspended, suddenly but permanently, while it still had a long way to travel. All we can do now is look backwards; which is not a thing The Fall ever did.
So, "Smile". It beats crying.
(They say that John Peel was The Fall's number one fan and booster. Here is film of him being just that.)
