In the winter of 1979, Public Image Ltd., fronted by former Sex Pistol John Lydon, released their grim, challenging and bleak avant-garde post-punk record Metal Box. Released on three pieces of vinyl inside a metal canister embossed with the band’s “PiL” logo, the packaging alone told listeners everything they needed to know – this was different.

After Lydon had helped to reinvent the musical wheel via his involvement with the Sex Pistols, there was no chance of him slipping into pop songs, continuing with punk or even releasing something that sounded vaguely related to anything he had released before.

The only recognisable Lydon trait on the record is his inimitable (though many have tried) squeal, however this time spouting much darker, more poetic lyrics, and this time surrounded by deeply unnerving, experimental sounds from Keith Levene on guitar and synthesiser and Jah Wobble on bass.

PiL’s previous and debut release the year before was a fairly jolly jaunt compared to this gruelling, meandering record and it shows this from the off – first track; “Albatross” is slow, heavy, dissonant and crosses the ten minute mark with time to spare, taking up an entire side of vinyl on the original release.

Lydon offers obtuse snatches of words sparingly as Levene and Wobble create a sparse, oppressive sound that frequently becomes uncomfortable to listen to. It’s difficult, daring and utterly compelling. The record continues with the shimmering “Memories,” a song that sounds as though it’s made entirely of metal – a theme continued throughout much of the record that is due mainly to Levene’s Veleno guitar, which is made entirely of aluminium.

Wobble’s dub-reggae inspired bass lines add urgency to the songs, propelling them forward along with the drums, which were played by numerous people over the course of recording, including Levene and Wobble themselves, as PiL had no permanent drummer at the time.

“Swan Lake” is a retread of earlier single “Death Disco” and sounds just as violent and menacing, while the loose, improvisational “Poptones” oozes disdain with jarring harmonies and unsettling guitar lines. “Socialist” doesn’t even hang around long enough to peter out, choosing instead to just stop, and the brilliant “Chant” sounds like a demented rant, which, of course, it is.

Metal Box is almost exactly an hour long but it never feels bloated, as most records do past the forty-five minute mark, and all songs reach their logical conclusion, or, depending on the song, implosion. The glorious thing about this record is in the details – little pieces of dissonance, a hint of reggae, a classic Lydon scream – and these details aren’t hidden away, but rather nurtured and built upon.

This album deserves to be cherished because this is when Lydon proved how vital he could be to music – this record is often earmarked as the perfect example of post-punk or experimental rock and has been recognised as such countless times. The most notable of these is being placed at number nineteen in Pitchfork Media’s Top 100 Albums of the 1980’s (referring to the 1980 re-release commissioned to recoup the cost of the expensive packaging) and being named as Rolling Stone’s four-hundred and sixty-ninth best record of all time.

It’s eccentric, challenging, depressing, difficult, darkly humorous, wicked, scary and absolutely stunning.