Why a greatest hits album can be the band's greatest

Don't be a snob about the best of compilations. What's wrong with an album that's pure gold, from start to finish?
Abba 1976
Abba's golden age … be honest – would you rather listen to Voulez-Vous or Abba Gold?

"What's your favourite Beatles album, then?" asks a very young James Lance.

"Ooh … tough one," says Alan Partridge. "I'd have to say … The Best of the Beatles". It's very funny. Except isn't Alan Partridge right? Aren't the Red and Blue collections genuinely the best Beatles albums?

As the music world drives towards Christmas with the enthusiasm of a Chris Rea song, the industry does what it always does, and breaks out the "Best of" big guns. This year, such varied names as Dido, Wet Wet Wet, the Killers, Dannii Minogue, Keane, Nickelback and Hard-Fi have put out collections of their big hitters, joining rack after rack of Best ofs, Very Best ofs, Essentials and Greatest Hits. Snobs and musos consider them either shameless cash-ins, aimed at asking long-suffering fans to pay yet again for music they already own (thanks to the presence of a bonus track or two), or as musical cheat sheets, easy shelf-fillers for people whose idea of a record store is a branch of Tesco.

I disagree. I bloody love a good best of album. What would you rather listen to? Voulez-Vous, or Abba Gold? Erotica, or The Immaculate Collection? In the 90s, Take That released three really patchy pop records. In 2006, they gave us Never Forget: The Ultimate Collection and it's 18 tracks of brilliance. Queen spent the 80s making ropey albums, but have you heard Greatest Hits II? It's amazing.

A good greatest hits album is an introduction to any band with a sizable catalogue. Millions and millions of people bought Carry on Up the Charts: The Best of Beautiful South (it went platinum eight times, fact fans), so you'd imagine at least a few would have gone on to investigate Miaow and Choke afterwards.

Pinterest

Reading on mobile? Click here to view video

Sometimes a compilation is really all you'll need of any act. I got Erasure's Pop! The First 20 Hits for Christmas in 1992, and every track is amazing. A few months later, I asked for their album The Circus for my 12th birthday, and was a bit disappointed – it lulled in a way Pop! never did. And remember, for instance, that albums by scores of 60s bands tended to be the three hit singles plus a load of filler; there's no other satisfactory full-length record than their greatest hits. (With Motown acts, especially, compilations are almost always perfect, while "official" albums are often flawed).

Best ofs were, in many ways, the purest expression of the joy of music before it became corrupted by ideas of "authenticity" and artists sought to separate themselves from the herd by making increasingly grandiose statements. They hark back to a time before ponderous concept albums, when the single was the supreme format and LPs were just collections of singles. Properly done, they can be a time capsule, preserving a band as they would want to be remembered. What would you prefer buried in a time capsule under the Blue Peter garden? Nine Rolling Stones albums, including Their Satanic Majesties Request and a lot of covers, or Hot Rocks 1964-1971?

Admittedly, greatest hits albums can be done badly: they can be scuppered by rights issues and lazy compiling, or by freezing out the band altogether – although that doesn't stop Radiohead: The Best of from being the most fitting introduction to the band you could have. Done right, the compilation is a musical shorthand, preserving the essence of a career in a package handy enough to give your mum for Christmas. Now where did I put my copy of Wingspan: Hits and History? It's the album The Best of the Beatles could have been.