The first pressing of the Constantines' self-titled debut released in 2001 was fittingly packaged so that, upon opening the red cardstock booklet, you'd
find a single strike-anywhere match. In an effort to not ruin the beauty and poignancy of a thing with a guided tour of its finer points and
implications, suffice it to say that if your relationship with rock and roll is not fundamentally a quest for fire (elemental, transformative, consuming),
you've utterly missed the point.
