"Mannequin" (Wire)

I only stumbled upon Wire's 1977 album Pink Flag about a year ago.  Just one of those nights where you can't switch your mind off from the day, so you go poking around YouTube at 1 am, watching old clips of The Clash, and then you get one of those "other insomniacs and poor bastards like you watched..." recommendations.
Pink Flag is an interesting album because it's right on the line of punk's first wave and post-punk.  The chords are limited, the vocals are sneered, and the running times are short: nothing lasts longer than 3:59, and most tracks are 1 minute or less, which means it takes almost no time for the album's 21-song suite to unfold.  But its covert subject matter and artsier flourishes, like dabbling with ambient noise, make it more akin to, say, Joy Division or Gang of Four than Sex Pistols.
There are lots of great moments on this album.  But I gravitate to the melodic pop-punk of "Mannequin," a mocking indictment of the fashion industry that basically calls emaciated models "wastes of space."  You might think that kind of vitriol wouldn't make for a pop song, but check out the chorus: the oooo harmony vocals behind vocalist Colin Newman sound as sunny as The Beach Boys, circa 1966. 
It's just an infectious song from an album that somehow remains fresh and revelatory, no matter how many times I play it.