Saying Duran Duran is one of the best bands of the 1980s is a good way to get laughed at by your critical friends. The Birmingham quintet were eye-shadowed pretty boys who played synth-heavy pop over the din of future Gen-X girls. Oh sure, they had a hand in making MTV into a cultural touchstone, but most will ask: what has their music got to offer?

You’ll get about three-quarters of an answer in EMI’s new deluxe edition of the band’s debut LP, now available in America after months of unnecessary delays. This lavish, three-disc package is both one of the best debut albums of the decade and a love letter to Duranies everywhere - but problems on the technical side keep it from being the perfect set it could have been.

The original album - unreleased in its original form for years in the U.S. - is a layered affair that established Duran Duran as the New Wave act to beat. In those early days, Duran heard themselves as a hybrid of CHIC, The Sex Pistols and Roxy Music; even if only two of those are accurate, the end product was a winning combination.

It’s a notion easily lost on download-driven ears, but Duran Duran has no filler. Yes, hit singles “Planet Earth” and “Girls on Film” sound radio-polished, but those deeper cuts - groove-based exercises like “Anyone Out There” and “Sound of Thunder,” punkish tunes like “Careless Memories” or “Friends of Mine” - will keep you far from the skip button. And the musicianship of these young men mustn’t be overlooked. Yes, Nick Rhodes laid down plenty of synth parts in his time, but it never undercuts the exotic wail of Andy Taylor’s guitar, nor does it overshadow the unstoppable rhythm section of bassist John Taylor and drummer Roger Taylor (no, none of them are related). And Simon Le Bon’s full-throated tenor and mystical lyrics keep you coming back over and over.

This new collector’s edition gathers an impressive amount of vault cuts. Four B-sides, including fan favorite “Late Bar” and a surprising cover of David Bowie’s “Fame,” could have fit on the album under different circumstances. The demos of “Girls on Film” and “Planet Earth” reimagine the hits with a more deliberate stomp, and disco instrumental album-closer “Tel Aviv” becomes an ethereal slow-burner with unsurprisingly cryptic vocals from Le Bon. An unreleased BBC session and a collection of “night versions” - specially re-recorded dance versions of the singles which immortalized Duran as a danceable band - further sweeten the deal, as does a DVD packed with music videos and TV clips.

So what’s not to like about this set? The one glaring error - even to this relatively untrained reviewer - is the pitiful sound quality of the original LP. To hear audible distortions on “Girls on Film” (the track never faded in and never should), to cringe as Roger Taylor’s whip-crack percussion has the life sucked out of it, to detect an increasingly flat equalization as the disc plays on - it’s unacceptable, even for a seemingly fluffy band as Duran Duran. This truly is some of the best music of its time; to miss that thanks to a terrible mastering job is rather sad.

The collector’s edition of Duran Duran is a must for the band’s most devoted fans; it reminds us all why we want their next record to sound more like this one. But don’t throw away your old copies - say, the single-disc 2003 remaster - and new fans should seek it out first before plunking down the $30 for this set.