Joe Strummer died Dec. 22, 2002. Strummer, a songwriter and performer of deep passion and power, was a driving force behind The Clash, who, in seven years and five albums, changed the parameters for what rock ‘n’ roll groups could (and, more importantly, should) be.

Although The Clash is labeled as a primarily “punk” group, such labeling doesn’t begin to explain the rich and restless mission that drove this band in directions that were never expected by anybody, least of all its early fans. (In a telling illustration of the farcical nature of the concept of “selling out” that’s so prevalent in punk, the band was accused of “selling out” at several points throughout their career.)

Strummer is now tragically gone from us, but The Clash’s music sounds as fresh as ever. Recently, another collection of The Clash’s best material was released. Tracing the band’s path from the leaders of punk’s raging rebellion through to the full flowering of their wide-ranging musical palate, The Essential Clash serves as both a logical starting point for newcomers and a fitting tribute to Strummer, one of the great figures in rock history.

Disc 1 begins, appropriately, at the beginning, with an extended set from 1977’s The Clash, the album which — in differing U.S. and U.K. versions — defined the terms by which The Clash would become, as its famous slogan boasted, “the only band that matters.”

It’s still startling to hear the rage, snot and snarl of the album’s best polemics (“White Riot,” “I’m So Bored With the U.S.A.,” “Career Opportunities,” “Cheat”), but what is perhaps more startling is the hard-rocking groove that characterizes much of this material (“Complete Control,” — which features a great Chuck-Berry-on-steroids riff from Mick Jones, the other major creative force in the band — “Janie Jones,” or, perhaps best of all, the stomping cover of “I Fought the Law”).

The lyrics are also consistently strong, with “London’s Burning” being exemplary of the deftness with which Strummer could render ideological observations, a talent would only get sharper over the course of his career. Then there’s “Garageland,” a true anthem in the least pretentious sense of the word, which contains the immortal image of sitting “back in the garage with my bullshit detector.” (The Clash never forgot the importance of keeping such a machine fine-tuned.)

Most of the songs on The Clash — and those presented on this collection from the follow-up, Give ‘Em Enough Rope, an inferior album that still contained the great “Safe European Home” and “Stay Free,” among others — are variations on the basic framework of the three-chord, bash-it-out rock ‘n’ roll song.

However, The Clash’s long, deep love affair with reggae are twice represented here, first on the group’s expert cover of Junior Murvin’s “Police and Thieves” and then again on “(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais,” one of Strummer’s best lyrics, Jones’ best melodies and the band’s best performances.

Just as Disc 1 begins with a long series of songs from a monumental album, Disc 2 follows in kind with seven songs from The Clash’s masterpiece; quite simply, London Calling ranks with the greatest albums ever recorded.

Apart from being simply brilliant and endlessly diverse in its sounds and textures, it’s a masterful exploration of the darkness that artists of this sort have always struggled against.

A bleak, unsettling and sometimes outright paranoid collection, London Calling is nothing short of a landmark. On The Essential Clash, the album is represented by several selections.

While there are other songs that are easily as good as the ones on here (namely, any of the album’s other 12 tracks), it’s hard to argue with the urgent call of “Guns of Brixton,” written and sung by bassist Paul Simonon, the rock inferno of “Clampdown,” or the snapping skank of “Rudie Can’t Fail.”

Then there’s the title track, Strummer’s frightening post-apocalypse report, delivered over the driving stutter of the rhythm section, led here by drummer Topper Headon. Not to mention “Train In Vain,” the strutting, soul-influenced love song that gave the band its first U.S. hit.

Five songs appear here from the three-album Sandinista!, a sprawling and beautiful mess. The band’s farthest journey into alien territory, Sandinista! is represented by a nice mix of the experimental (the rap-driven “Magnificent Seven”) and the familiar (the beautiful sadness of “Somebody Got Murdered”).

The so-so Combat Rock is nearly perfectly summarized, both by the heartbreaking simplicity of “Straight To Hell,” and by the band’s two biggest hits, the funk-punk of “Rock The Casbah” and the garage-y “Should I Stay Or Should I Go.”

Essential closes with “This Is England,” a track from Strummer and Simonon’s failed post-Jones attempt to keep The Clash alive, Cut The Crap. Although the album title is all too fitting, “This Is England” is something of a masterpiece, and perhaps this

compilation’s biggest revelation. Over a mournful background of soft synths and fat electric guitar, Strummer relates the darkness, hopelessness and strange beauty of his home country.

It’s beautiful, both lyrically and musically, and it’s a perfect way to say goodbye, both to this great rock ‘n’ roll band, and to Joe Strummer, a righteously passionate individual whose long-thought idealism and no-compromises approach forever cement him as one of the revolution’s most important soldiers.

Rest in peace, Joe, and rest well with the understanding that the band you helped lead is one of the greatest and most important of them all.

Grade: A