Superstar DJs, Here We Go Again

Generally speaking, releasing a best-of is a sign of a career that’s pretty much finished. Obviously there are major exceptions: Madonna’s Immaculate Collection, Pet Shop Boys’ Discography, and R.E.M.’s Eponymous come to mind, with the latter being a shining example of a specific sort of best-of, the contract-ender. (Eponymous documented the band’s tenure on IRS; they’d go onto bigger and sometimes better things on Warner Bros.) But there are many others where the sunset is plainly in sight and/or earshot. Besides “Ghostbusters,” what did Ray Parker Jr. do of note following his ’82 Greatest Hits? (Which, I hasten to add, came out the same year as The Other Woman, his most successful solo album–curious, that. Some people, it seems, see the writing on the wall faster than others.) Which brings us, naturally, to the Chemical Brothers.

Five years ago, when Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons issued their first singles collection w/optional bonus disc, it had a sense of occasion: ten years of records, a brand name that seemed a bit dated but still had a loyal following. Now, two middling-if-they’re-lucky additional albums down the road (one of which, last year’s We Are the Night, was inexplicably treated as a major comeback by the U.K. press), the Chems treat us to more of the same, but less, if you know what I mean. Nine of Brotherhood‘s 14 songs were among the 13 on Singles 93-03–by which I mean the single-disc versions. (Each title’s bonus disc is completely different; the new comp features the ten-part “Electronic Battle Weapon” tracks.) Apparently, there are people who would prefer to hear that lousy Q-Tip collaboration over classics like “Song to the Siren” and “The Private Psychedelic Reel,” and those people are going to be made very, very happy by Brotherhood.

Still, competing best-ofs separated by only an album or two continue to fascinate me. What are some of your favorite such redundancies, either as objects of contemplation or actual objects? Answers, as always, in the comments.