Nick Lowe’s newly re-issued Jesus of Cool (Originally recorded in 1978, re-issued on Yep Roc Records, Feb. 19) isn’t the kind of record you throw on for pleasant background noise.

Each track jogs your senses like an unknown, but instantly familiar song that you know by heart, making it impossible to do anything but stare at your wall or your computer screen, enraptured, waiting for the hook to repeat so you can sing along.

First, Lowe’s immediate, soulful voice grabs your attention. Once you’re caught, he uses his vocals to deliver an unending supply of brief and engaging hooks that alternate between moments of sincere tenderness and snide humor. After a few songs, the immediacy of Lowe’s voice and lyrics dissipates a little, but the album’s grooves continue to ensnare the listener. The musical style varies from song to song, but expect warm guitars, a thumping rhythm section and supporting harmonies straight out of Abbey Road throughout.

Elvis Costello is a good reference point for what to expect.

Lowe produced the punk and new wave star’s first six LPs and even wrote “What’s So Funny (‘Bout Peace, Love and Understanding),” one of Costello’s biggest hits. Both artists’ catalogues appeal to pop listeners and music snobs without sacrificing their savagely pointed lyrics or universal appeal. This balance between hooks and solid musicianship has helped Lowe’s debut maintain its fresh, enticing sheen for 30 years.

Mostly, the record sounds like a one-man assault on oldies radio. Lowe and Company outdo the classic R & B and rock ‘n’ roll classics by borrowing all of their winning elements (big hooks, jangling guitars, soul, etc.) and nixing all the gimmicky, dragging parts that make you want to change the station. Most songs on the album are fewer than three minutes, allowing the album proper to fly by in a haze of varied, bliss-inducing splendor.

Like driving hard rock? Check out the riffs and thumping drums of opener “Music for Money.” Idolize the rollicking licks and story-song lyrics of Chuck Berry? Lowe’s biting “Shake and Pop” thieves some Berry-worthy riffs and barroom piano to tell the story of one of Lowe’s failed radio singles, name-dropping several uninterested record labels along the way. Have a soft spot for lush pop? “Tonight” manages to conjure the late night romantic vibe without losing its directness in a haze of acoustic guitars.

At certain points, the album seamlessly blends Lowe’s backing-band support and huge hooks to create a nearly perfect intersection of words and music.

Occasionally, the odd bit of poor song writing transforms an under-supported hook into a grating repetition. At these points, as on the driving, but shallow, track “No Reason,” Lowe repeats the same phrase ad nauseam until any potential meaning is lost to the forces of boredom and dated production

Lowe’s re-issued Jesus of Cool raises several interesting questions about the re-issue market. The additional tracks here touch on themes found throughout the album proper: relationships, the music industry, rock music and even feminism on the gently empathetic “Born a Woman,” in which Lowe masks his distaste for society’s poor treatment of women in shimmering chords and a sugary delivery.

Still, one wonders, if an album as varied and impeccable as Lowe’s original effort needs more of the same? How many songs by Lowe, or any artist, can you listen to in one sitting? Digital music and storage allow us a nigh infinite capacity for the creation, storage and distribution of music, but how many alternate takes, bootlegs and live cuts are essential to your library and how many will sit on your hard drive unlistened to? The final answer to these questions lies with each listener, but, as we run out of crucial albums to rehash and repackage, how many gigabytes will future generations use up?

Though Jesus of Cool‘s relatively modest number of extras pale in comparison to more ambitious repackagings, like Pavement’s more than 40 track re-release in 2002, Yep Roc Records has done the general public a service by putting the album back in print.

Though more of a tasteful addition than purchase-worthy material, the bonus tracks do provide an interesting, if disposable, snapshot of the artist during the period the album was recorded. The original’s 11 tracks of bracing pop have lost little of their immediacy, and thanks to re-issues, the finished product sits in your local record store, newly expanded and freshly packaged, awaiting discovery.