We have at least two reasons to worship the Pretty Things, the seminal r'n'b influenced '60s band who teetered permanently on the brink of self-destruction: they were probably the only act to score higher than the Rolling Stones on the "lock up your daughters" panicometer and, with SF Sorrow, they produced a classic concept album whose stunning soft-psychedelic songs transcended that much-maligned genre.

Now they've released Rage Against Beauty, an album they wanted to call Fuck Oasis And Fuck You and which they started recording in 1981. I'm sure it wasn't old age that took them so long, so is this just one more example of old blokes trying to make a few bob by recreating the sounds of pre-bus pass days? Probably, but what a rip-roaring collection it is, one way or the other.

Half way through they show the Stones the menace they might have injected into their original version of 'Play With Fire', while their cover of the Barry McGuire anti-war anthem 'Eve Of Destruction' will send a chill up the back of anyone already suffering from pre-millennium apocalyptic tension. The only other cover is a gloriously rowdy run-through of Tommy James' hit 'Mony Mony'.

The rest is a sturdy collection of originals, including the hypnotic Bo-Diddleyesque 'Vivian Prince', about the band's former drummer (who could have shown Keith Moon a thing or two about personal and percussive demolition).

Now a six-piece, they may have toned down some of the brash, unfettered aggression of their formative years, but 'Goin' Downhill', the Yardbirds-ish 'Everlasting Flame' and 'Passion Of Love' still kick up plenty of dust.

Despite its comparatively recent recording, Rage Against Beauty is a tasty slice of British '60s rhythm'n'blues, played with more fire and brimstone than we have a right to expect. Probably the best album you'll hear from a middle-aged band this year.