One record at a time: 511. Depeche Mode - The Singles 81→85

I first heard this album on cassette via a Goodmans SW850 ghetto blaster, sometime around 1988. Even the muddy sound of those cheap speakers couldn't ruin the magic of the songs coming from that borrowed tape. As a gateway to the world of Depeche Mode, this album was hard to beat in the eighties. Having only ever owned it on CD, I recently decided to buy a copy on LP, because who doesn’t like paying through the nose for a format that includes fewer songs than all the others?

To listen to "The Singles 81 to 85" is to witness a remarkable transformation. This isn’t just a collection of hits; it is a chronological map of four young men from Basildon, outgrowing the neon glow of the early 80s and stepping into a darker, more industrial shadow that they would eventually come to own. While this album stops short of the majestic "Black Celebration" and "Music for the Masses" albums, you can sense them approaching, like electricity in the air.

The journey begins with the pure, crystalline synth-pop of the Vince Clarke era. Tracks like "Dreaming of Me" and the immortal "Just Can’t Get Enough" are relics of a simpler time, unabashedly bright, melodic, and full of youthful naivety. At this stage, Depeche Mode were the choirboys of the synthesiser, crafting pop so sugary it felt as though it could float away. Yet they were good. Really good.

But the departure of Clarke, and the rise of Martin Gore as the primary songwriter, changed everything. You can almost hear the band’s loss of innocence as the tracklist progresses. By the time we reach "See You" and "Leave in Silence", the melodies remain, but the atmosphere begins to chill. There’s a newfound yearning in Dave Gahan’s vocal, and a hint of the baritone gravitas that would later fill stadiums.

The mid-point of the collection is where the "Depeche Mode sound" truly hardens into its definitive form. With "Everything Counts", the band traded bright synth-pop for industrial bite. They began sampling the world around them, clanging metal, grinding gears, and the cold reality of corporate greed. It was a bold, brilliant pivot. They became an unlikely bridge between the dancefloor and the factory floor.

Then come the heavy hitters, "People Are People" and "Master and Servant". These weren't just pop songs; they were sonic experiments that pushed the boundaries of what electronic music could say. They were provocative, metallic, and strangely soulful.

The collection culminates in the haunting "Shake the Disease", a song that serves as the perfect bridge to their "Black Celebration" era. It is moody, sophisticated, and deeply human, a long way from the bubbly teens of 1981.“The Singles 81 to 85” proves that Depeche Mode didn’t just survive the 80s; they redesigned them. It’s the sound of a band finding its soul in the machinery, and it remains an essential masterclass in how to evolve without ever losing your grip on a great hook. Unfortunately this album is also a reminder that they later relinquished that grip in their shift towards pseudo rock-god status. 4/5

One record at a time: 510. Cicero - Future Boy

David Cicero is probably best known for his time signed to the Pet Shop Boys’ short lived label, Spaghetti Records. Under the name Cicero, he released records on the label between August 1991 and November 1992, including his debut album “Future Boy”.

Whilst Dave's records never troubled the charts in a massive way, he did pull off a dream many of us had while still rearranging our cassette collections and promising ourselves we’d "make it one day". Dave started as a bedroom muso with ambitions of releasing records and, rather than waiting for a fairy god-producer to knock, he went out and made it happen. It also helps that he’s talented, which is an irritatingly useful trait in a musician.

This deluxe edition of "Future Boy" arrived in 2023 and was a far more comprehensive take than any of the previous versions that had been issued. You get a DVD featuring the promo videos for the singles plus a short live set recorded at Heaven nightclub in London, which is exactly the sort of extra that makes you feel smug about owning physical media. Because CD ruled the world in 1992, very few LPs were pressed, so original vinyl copies now cost the sort of money that makes you consider taking up a cheaper hobby, like yachting. Sensibly, this set plugs the gap with a white vinyl LP.

As for the album itself the singles, "Heaven Must Have Sent You Back To Me" and "That Loving Feeling" are easy highlights, but I’m giving the loudest applause to "Love Is Everywhere". There are also two cracking instrumentals, "Cloud 9" and "Sonic Malfunction", which do more than simply make up the numbers. Dave’s own favourite, "Then", was almost picked as a single and I’ll admit I always braced myself for its gleefully unhinged lurch from tender ballad to full on techno monster.

On this new edition there's a bonus track recorded during the original sessions but left off the album, called “Pretend”. The production doesn’t quite match the polish elsewhere, so I understand why it was given the chop, but as a peek behind the curtain it’s genuinely fascinating, like finding a deleted scene that explains why a character suddenly owns a dog.

My only gripe is the closing track, "Future Generations". Not only does it overstay its welcome but the lyrics feel a bit too contrived, and the vocal performance sounds like it could have done with a few more takes and a slightly firmer producer’s raised eyebrow. It drags the ending down, which is a shame after so much strong material.

After "Future Boy", Cicero moved into the Eurodance sound that dominated the mid-nineties, without much luck. Despite never quite escaping the shadow of his early mentors, Dave seems to treat his association with Pet Shop Boys as a blessing and is happy to acknowledge what they taught him. Still, it would be unfair to judge him only on his output from the early nineties. His recent albums, "Today" and "For Broken Hearts", somehow sound contemporary while still paying homage to his synth-pop roots. Sadly, neither is available on vinyl, which feels like a snub to those of us who like big sleeves and small amounts of dust. It's not just nostalgia that compels me to rate this album highly. 4/5

One record at a time: 509. Chromeo - Adult Contemporary

Having had my fingers burnt by Chromeo’s live album, I decided not to spring for the limited edition colour vinyl of their latest studio release "Adult Contemporary" in 2024. In a small, middle-aged act of defiance, I waited about a year and picked up the common or garden black version when it was discounted. That will show them, I thought, shaking my fist at the vagaries of retail pricing.

By the time the album finally turned up, it felt like half the tracklist had already been released as singles or teaser tracks. Instead of building anticipation, it left me with the odd sense that I had already heard the main talking points but was now attending the meeting anyway. On a first full listen, not much of it stuck. It is all a bit samey, and it tends to wash over me rather than lodge in the brain.

That is a shame, because Chromeo are usually very good at making slick, affectionate pop funk that still has a pulse. Even when they are being knowingly daft, there is normally a sharpness to the hooks and a sense of forward motion. They make songs that sound like they were designed by people who genuinely love synths, drum machines, and studio equipment. 

Here, the production is tidy and bright, but a lot of the songs share the same easy tempo, the same satin keyboard gloss, and the same slightly knowing vocal delivery. The choruses arrive on time, do their job, and then politely leave again. After a few tracks I found myself enjoying individual moments more than whole songs: a nice bass run here, a neat little synth flourish there, and then back into the comfortable groove.

In the past, that comfort has been a strength. Previous Chromeo records have often improved with repeat listens, like an in joke that gets funnier once you learn the rhythm of it. This time, though, repeated exposure did not unlock much as I couldn’t tolerate the test dose.

None of this is to say it is bad, just that it is rarely surprising. If you put it on while cooking, driving, or pretending to work from home, it will make life feel a bit shinier without demanding too much attention. I just wanted a couple more left turns, or at least a chorus that lived in my head for a day.

In the end, waiting for the discount probably suited the album. It is pleasant, professional, and easy to have on, but it has not quite earned a premium place in my rotation. If you are after peak Chromeo, I would still point you towards the earlier records first, then come back to this one when you fancy something smooth and undemanding. Preferably when it is in a sale, if only to keep the illusion of defiance alive. 2/5

One record at a time: 508. Chromeo - Date Night: Chromeo Live!

Not long ago I found a copy of the 2007 deluxe edition of Thompson Twins’ "Here’s To Future Days" in a charity shop for £1. It tends to go for around £30 second-hand, which is the sort of bargain that makes you feel briefly chosen by the music gods. 

Unfortunately that warm glow did not last because it reminded me of when I bought "Date Night: Chromeo Live!" from Bandcamp in 2021. This record cost an eye-watering $70 (about £52) at the time, but five years later you can still pick it up on Amazon for less than half that. 

Collecting records is a bit like gambling: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The difference is that when you lose money gambling, you do not have to catalogue the evidence alphabetically. With this hobby, the losses, and the little sense of injustice that comes with them, hang around for years, patiently filed under the artists name and waiting to judge you every time you glance at the shelf.

The set itself is generous: twenty tracks spread across three slabs of blue marbled vinyl, capturing performances from the band’s 2019 US tour. You get the big hits, delivered with the kind of polish and tightness you would expect from a group that treats funk like a craft rather than a mood. Having seen them live, I can attest that the musicianship of the band is the real deal.

If you love Chromeo, or you want a crisp souvenir of the 2019 era set, this is an easy recommendation. It captures their professionalism and a knack for making immaculate pop funk feel like a party rather than a job. For me it is a reminder that collecting records is not just about the music, it is also about occasionally paying extra for the privilege of learning patience. 3.5/5

One record at a time: 507. The Chemical Brothers - For That Beautiful Feeling

Released in 2023, "For That Beautiful Feeling" arrived with a fair bit of expectation attached, helped along by the early single "The Darkness That You Fear". On paper it is got everything I usually want from The Chemical Brothers: a clear hook, a confident pulse, that familiar sense of a bigger picture gradually coming into focus. In practice, though, it never quite lands for me. The samples feel more nagging than catchy and, because the duo are not shy about repeating a phrase until it becomes the point of the track, what should be hypnotic starts to grate.

That is the theme I keep bumping into across the record. The production is as glossy and muscular as you would expect from a band who have been doing this longer than most of us have been paying council tax. There are moments where a synth line lifts its head above the mix and you think, here we go, this is the one. Then the track leans back on a vocal chop or a loop that refuses to evolve, and the momentum slips away.

"Live Again" is a good example. It has a sturdy groove and a pleasingly ravey shimmer, but the central vocal hook sits in that awkward place between inspirational and intensely irritating. I can imagine it working a treat in a festival field, shouted back with arms in the air. At home, on a grey Tuesday, it invokes the same anger as being told to smile by a stranger on the bus.

To be clear, there is nothing careless here. The sound design is detailed, the low end is enormous, and there is a sense of craft in how the tracks are layered and paced. I just do not think the album’s best ideas are quite strong enough to justify how firmly they are repeated. 

When it clicks, it is properly transportive ("No Reason", "Feels Like I’m Dreaming"). When it does not ("Goodbye", "Live Again"), it can feel like you are stuck in a tumble drier watching the same scene move round and around ad infinitum. I was especially looking forward to another Beck collaboration, but even this ends up feeling a bit undercooked and never quite matches the promise of previous outings.

So, say it quietly, but "For That Beautiful Feeling" is not amongst the band's best. I do not dislike it enough to write it off, and I would still take it over most paint by numbers dance records without thinking. I just wanted a bit more surprise, a bit more lift, and fewer hooks that outstay their welcome. This record doesn’t gab me like "Surrender" or "Push the Button" did. If you are already on board, you will find plenty to enjoy. If you are looking for a classic, you might end up reaching for the older stuff instead. 2.5/5

One record at a time: 506. Claudia Brücken – Night Mirror

After rinsing xPropaganda’s "The Heart Is Strange", ordering principal vocalist Claudia Brücken’s latest album, "Night Mirror", felt like an easy decision in 2025. No research, no hesitation, just that smug little click of the pre order button that says, "I am a person of taste and impeccable judgement."

Sadly, "Night Mirror" is nothing like xPropaganda, and it left me colder than the British seaside in March. The glossy synths I’d been hoping for have largely been swapped out for acoustic drums, bass guitar and the sort of whiny guitar solos that turn up uninvited and then somehow end up staying for tea. Overall, the album leans heavily into an acoustic flavour, and I do not like the taste. Claudia does not even bother singing on the opening track, "My Life Started Today". Instead, she deadpans her way through three minutes of banal lyrics while an electric guitar wails in the background.

Track two, "Rosebud", briefly teases a flourish of synth, and for a moment I sat up expectantly. Then the bass guitar and Hammond organ arrive to suffocate that electronic promise with the determination of a hit-man smothering his victim with a pillow. There are faint signs of life on track three, but Claudia’s voice gets oddly unsympathetic treatment, as if the mix is actively trying to prove she is not the main event. 

The songwriting lacks bite and, at times, harks back to rock music from the sixties, and not in a charming, "what a classic" way. More in a, "you’ve heard this chord change a million times but I’m going to do it anyway" kind of way. Even when a song like "Sound and the Fury" initially sounds promising, any electronic pulse is soon snuffed out by the incessant electric guitar, which appears to be on a mission to play over absolutely everything, including, presumably, the credits.

To be fair, there are moments where the electronics are allowed out of their little cupboard. "Shadow Dancer" is one of the few tracks that lets them extend beyond the opening salvos, but the melody never quite turns up, and after a while you start checking your watch and wondering if it got lost on the way. There is also a rather dreary ballad called "To Be Loved", which I am sure will find its audience, but I am not that audience, and my heart did not so much melt as politely decline. 

"Dancing Shadow" tries to revive the promise of "Shadow Dancer", and we even get some TR-909 hi hats battling it out with the ever present electric guitar. Yet it still denies us the glorious four on the floor kick drum that would have been the icing on the cake, the final nudge from “pleasantly surprised” to “right, I’m up and dancing.” Instead, we remain firmly seated. At this point I can only assume the producer is a guitarist who genuinely loves the sound of his own instruments, because there is no other reasonable explanation for this much guitar being allowed to wander about unchecked.

I pre ordered the limited two disc edition (1000 copies) on "Twilight Purple" blended vinyl. It includes an alternate cover and an exclusive bonus black vinyl 12 inch EP of "Nighttime Mixes". The package also came with a 12"x12" signed print, and I even plumped for the surround sound Blu-ray, because apparently my hobbies now include collecting expensive ways to be mildly disappointed. For an album I do not really like, I have assembled an impressive number of formats. Sometimes I amaze even myself. Next time, I might try the radical approach of streaming it first. 2/5

One record at a time: 505. Tim Bowness - Powder Dry

When I first heard a snippet of opening track "Rock Hudson" on social media, I was immediately struck by the bombastic drums and discordant synth textures supporting Tim’s vocal. It was one of those moments where your brain goes yes, I want more of that, and before I knew it I had pre-ordered the limited edition pink vinyl. When the record was released in 2024 it came with a signed postcard, another smaller copy of the same postcard and an art print of the sleeve. Luckily I like the image, otherwise this might have felt like overkill. Oh wait...

Produced by Tim alone, "Powder Dry" immediately feels like he has found a much broader sonic palette than on its predecessor. Everything sounds sharper and more confident. There are no supporting musicians credited and to be honest Tim sounds so much better without a traditional band in a room plodding away behind him. Most tracks are short and nothing outstays its welcome. It is a snappy, tight record that knows exactly what it wants to do.

Steven Wilson, fellow No-Man member and professional sound whisperer, chips in with mixing and editing to make sure everything holds together and carries a sense of credibility. It does make me reflect that we may not actually need more No-Man albums. Tim seems to make them perfectly well on his own, with occasional help from his best mate. 

Second track "Lost / Not Lost" is minimalist in approach and is driven by a melody that worms its way into your head with suspicious efficiency. "Idiots at Large" shows how much imagination Tim brings when left to his own devices. "A Stand Up for the Dying" could easily have turned into yet another earnest band recording, but instead Tim’s solo guitar is cushioned by atmospheric synths, and all the double bass and complicated drumming of previous albums has been quietly shown the exit.

On the flip side, "Summer Turned" sounds exactly as the title suggests. Light, bright and summery. "Films of Our Youth" works as an instrumental companion to "The Film of Your Youth" which feels neatly intentional. "I Was There" has superb drum samples and imaginative programming and is one of the album’s highlights for me. Only the title track disappoints slightly, but something has to come last.

In the end, this album feels like Tim finally shrugged off anything that might have held him back and simply made the record he wanted to make. It is focused, imaginative and far more interesting than yet another polite band effort. If anything, it shows that Tim on his own, armed with some synths, a bit of guitar and a friend in the mixing booth, is more than enough. 3.5/5

One ecord at a time: 504. Tim Bowness - Butterfly Mind

It dawned on me, somewhat alarmingly, that this record came out four years ago, which means I have been blogging about my collection for at least that long. Time clearly flies when you are busy collecting limited edition vinyl with the enthusiasm of a slightly unhinged magpie. 

This particular specimen arrives on 180 gram transparent green wax, tucked inside a die cut sleeve, and is hand numbered to just six hundred copies. Pressed by Optimal in Germany, it sounds lovely, and the package even includes a CD, a signed postcard and a fridge magnet. Obviously. Because what self respecting limited edition would dare show its face without a fridge magnet these days.

Before you drop the needle, a word of advice. If your ears have recently been exposed to anything resembling pop or rock, take a moment to reset. Maybe breathe deeply. Maybe stare thoughtfully into the middle distance because, aside from a couple of tracks, the album is a drifting, laid back, prog tinged wander through soft laments and gentle instrumentation. Nick Beggs pops in to provide some bass, Ian Anderson contributes woodwind, and Steven Wilson, who presumably pops round for tea often enough to count as family, handles the mix. At times it is so reminiscent of No-Man that I half expected the packaging to apologise for the confusion.

The opening track, "Say Your Goodbyes Part 1", sets the tone nicely with a delicate start that eventually firms up into something a little crunchier. "It’s Easier to Love" is pleasant but overstays its welcome by several minutes. "Lost Player" floats along in a wistful, elegiac haze and boasts a melody I genuinely adore. This dreamy spell is abruptly shattered by the synth bass stomp and monosynths of "Only a Fool", propelled by drumming that appears to be fuelled by three coffees and several cans of energy drink. 

"Glitter Fades" perks things up with some catchy drum programming that helps break the overall spell of drifting sameness, but many of the other tracks struggle to make such a distinct impression. There is no faulting the performances and plenty of the songs are undeniably pretty, yet the whole experience drifts into a slightly bland, monochrome haze. Dare I say it, by the end I found myself growing a little weary of those endlessly soft and gentle vocal tones.

A beautiful record, thoughtfully assembled, and unquestionably atmospheric. Just be prepared to float for quite a while. And do not forget your fridge magnet. 2.5/5

One record at a time: 503. Beloved - Conscience

Back in 1993, when CDs ruled the world and vinyl was taking an extended tea break, "Conscience" slipped out with only a handful of LP pressings. Naturally, this meant that the original vinyl soon became the sort of item collectors stalked.

Fast forward to recent years, and with demand still bubbling away and the rights having returned to Jon Marsh, electronic specialists NewState clearly spotted a chance to make a lot of fans very happy. On paper, the reissue sounded downright irresistible: remastered audio spread across two slabs of heavyweight white vinyl, limited edition, full colour sleeve and wraparound artwork. All very fancy. All very take‑my‑money. Then you actually play it.

This is where the warm glow of nostalgia smacks straight into the cold wall of reality. Some tracks are different mixes that do not match the originals. There is added noise on almost everything. The sibilance is, quite honestly, among the worst I have ever heard. I would love to tell you that the sheer brilliance of the music rises triumphantly above the overbearing compression and the extra noise. I really would. But I can't.

And that is such a shame, because the album itself remains wonderful. "Conscience" felt like a natural step on from their debut "Happiness", with the new husband‑and‑wife duo of Jon and Helena working beautifully together. There is just enough pop threaded through the dance elements to keep things interesting, long before their next album "X" would wander a little too far into clubland and lose some charm in the process.

One of my favourite memories is hearing someone play an advance copy of this album in an HMV before the album was released. The moment Jon sang the opening lines of "Spirit": "So welcome back again, On the right track again" I saw a couple of people drift towards the B section of the CD racks, only to be met with crushing disappointment when they found nothing there.

The singles "Sweet Harmony", "Outerspace Girl" and "You Have Got Me Thinking" deserved far better chart positions than the public gave them. They are still great songs. Even better is the killer trio of "Celebrate Your Life", "Rock to the Rhythm of Love" and "Let the Music Take You", a run of tracks I always looked forward to. The only stumble for me has always been the closer, "Dream On", which drifts a bit.

So yes, a great album, but this vinyl pressing does it no favours whatsoever. Whether the problems are down to this disastrous white vinyl edition or whether the universe is simply refusing to let "Conscience" sound good on wax, I cannot say. What I can say is that the regular black vinyl version, which is supposedly on the way, has had its release delayed at least three times. It does make you wonder if the poor thing is proving too difficult to get onto vinyl in a form that does not make you wince. Until then, my advice is simple: adore the album, avoid the pressing. 3/5

One record at a time: 502. B.E.F. - Music For Stowaways

Some albums are made for the charts, some are made for record executives, and one was made for a very specific little plastic box clipped to someone’s belt in 1981. The Stowaway (soon to be known to the world as the Walkman) was the new futuristic toy of the time, and British Electric Foundation clearly thought: “Why not make something specifically for people wandering around with headphones on, pretending they’re in Blade Runner?”

The result is a fascinating electronic experiment from Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware, freshly departed from the original Human League and brimming with ideas. I’ll admit I bought my copy before ever hearing it, which is always a high‑risk hobby. But in this case, the gamble paid off. The album has a raw, exploratory charm: you can practically hear two musicians revelling in their newfound creative freedom. It’s part time capsule, part art project, part "let’s see what this button does".

The opener, "The Opium Chant", is a strangely hypnotic swirl of repetitive refrains and dub influenced delays. It is the sort of track that makes you stare into the middle distance and forget what you were meant to be doing. Perfect if what you were meant to be doing was not very important in the first place.

"Uptown Apocalypse" drags in members of Clock DVA and the results are exactly what you might expect and yet somehow more listenable than they have any right to be. There are more melodic moments too on the record. "Wipe The Board Clean" is surprisingly tuneful, while the instrumental version of "We Don't Need This Fascist Groove Thing" is perfectly fine, but we've heard it before.

The standout is "The Old At Rest". This track is ambient perfection, created on a handful of synthesisers that leave enough space between the layers for the music to breathe. Put it on with a good pair of headphones and feel your everyday stress melt away in a gentle wash of electronic calm. 

The rest of the record offers up serious, early electronic explorations packed with interesting ideas. In fact, I would go as far as to say I prefer this to the early Human League material. Controversial perhaps, but I have said it now and there is no turning back. 

Cold Spring Records resurrected the album in 2023 and released two coloured vinyl versions and a standard black one. My copy is one of the 500 yellow editions but the wax itself isn't as vibrant as the cover. Whilst the sleeve proudly sits on my shelf glowing like a radioactive banana, the record inside is more of a sickly mustard colour. 

"Music for Stowaways" remains a quirky, innovative snapshot of early‑80s synth culture, and the yellow vinyl reissue turns it into a collector’s gem. It may no longer fit into a Stowaway, but it plays beautifully on a turntable — and that’s probably for the best as all of the rubber belts in my Walkman have long since perished. 4/5

One record at a time: 501. Rick Astley - Whenever You Need Somebody

Every now and then, I spot a record in a charity shop that looks far too pristine to ignore. That’s exactly how I ended up walking out with Rick Astley’s "Whenever You Need Somebody" tucked under my arm. In a moment of impulsive optimism, I forgot one tiny detail: I didn’t like Stock Aitken Waterman in the 80s, and nothing in my life since has suggested my opinion should change.

But here’s the thing. Despite the manufactured pop beginnings, I’ve got a real soft spot for Rick himself. He’s a genuinely talented multi‑instrumentalist and songwriter (you might guffaw but have you listened to songs like "Angels By My Side"? - I'll take your apology when you come back). The poor bloke just fell in with the wrong crowd that's all.

Naturally, "Never Gonna Give You Up" kicks off the album. If you don’t know this track, you’re probably legally classified as deceased, so I won’t insult either of us by describing it. It's pop perfection whether we like to admit it or not, and SAW knew it.

The title track was also a hit, though it has that unmistakable SAW "we made this in an afternoon" energy. It’s catchy enough, but let’s not pretend it has the sheer gravitational pull of Rick’s signature hit. It’s fine — which is exactly the problem. Fine is rarely memorable, and SAW had a habit of aiming squarely for "good enough to sell, not good enough to last".

A few cuts were produced by Phil Harding, which lifts things slightly, and there’s one track handled by Daize Washbourn, but it is all fairly standard eighties pop fare. The back cover proudly reels out the classic SAW gag “Drums by A Linn” and Fairlight programming is credited to Ian Curnow.

There’s a rumour that EMI deliberately sabotaged Rick Astley’s chances of hitting number one with his version of "When I Fall in Love" by sneakily reissuing the original Nat King Cole recording to dilute his sales. According to the theory, this cleared the path for EMI act Pet Shop Boys to glide straight into the top spot instead.

Of course, this overlooks a couple of awkward details — namely that "When I Fall in Love" had already stalled at number two for weeks, and the Pet Shop Boys were actually battling "Fairytale of New York". Still, why let facts spoil a perfectly good conspiracy theory? Besides, Rick’s version of "When I Fall in Love" is pretty dire, so perhaps everyone involved was simply doing a public service.

This record is an oddly charming time capsule. Yes, the production occasionally sounds like it was knocked together with one eye on the clock, but there’s something undeniably likeable here — not just because the songs are catchy, but because Rick Astley is clearly capable of far more than the tightly controlled pop machine allowed him to show. It’s the sound of an artist who hadn’t yet escaped the conveyor belt.

As far as charity‑shop gambles go, this one’s a mild win. Maybe not a jackpot, but definitely better than multiple copies of "The Best of James Last" that were lurking beside it. 2/5

One record at a time: 500. Art of Noise - Impressions Of For+ever And The Making Of Moments In Love

Nobody makes their back catalogue work harder than ZTT and the Art of Noise. If there is a tape, a demo, a studio sneeze, or someone once accidentally brushed a synth with their elbow in 1984, you can bet it will eventually be pressed, given a catalogue number, and fired into the shops as a “limited edition archival release”.

I honestly thought the well was dry after the 2006 four‑CD monolith "And What Have You Done With My Body, God?" — a title which now feels more like a plea from the archive itself. But no. This latest instalment appeared last year, suggesting there are still mysterious boxes in Trevor Horn's loft labelled "Do Not Use – Really, We Mean It This Time".

And yet, a quick peek at Discogs reveals that ten of the thirteen tracks on this record have already been put out before. So it’s not so much "previously unreleased gems" as "you’ve probably heard these already, but here they are again… surprise!?" Then comes the double whammy: this record combines two of my absolute least favourite vinyl tropes — Record Store Day and a poor GZ Media pressing. 

So, archival release or shameless cash‑grab? Honestly, it’s a bit of both. You can call it "preserving musical history" if you squint, but there’s also a definite sense of someone shaking the vaults to see if any loose coins fall out. And let’s be realistic: there’s a reason most of this material stayed unreleased for so long. Listening to some of these mixes feels a bit like watching deleted scenes from a film you love — there’s a reason they didn’t make the final cut, and no amount of historical curiosity can disguise the fact that they were deleted for a reason.

Now, let me be clear: I adore the track "Moments in Love". It’s a masterpiece. It’s serene, iconic and hypnotic — but do I need thirteen versions of it in a row? Absolutely not. Nobody needs that. Even the most devoted Art of Noise completist would probably step outside for fresh air around track six just to remember what silence feels like. It’s the vinyl equivalent of ordering a three‑course meal and getting three plates of slightly different mashed potato. Impressive commitment, questionable decision‑making.

And yet, buried within the repetition are still those unmistakable flickers of beauty. The original DNA of the song remains magical, even when wrapped in variations that range from "pleasant enough" to "did someone lean on the Fairlight?" But the truth is simple: the unreleased tracks aren’t particularly vital, and the previously released ones aren’t different enough to justify their presence here — unless you're the sort of person who owns more than one copy of "Tubular Bells".

I still love "Moments in Love". I probably always will. But even I have limits, and thirteen iterations of the same track is a stretch worthy of Olympic classification. This one’s for hardcore fans, completists, and people who feel physically uncomfortable leaving a hole in their Art of Noise collection. Everyone else can stream a couple of tracks and call it a day. 2/5

One record at a time: 499.Adamski - Doctor Adamski's Musical Pharmacy

Sometime in 2025, I picked up the CD single of "Flashback Jack" by Adamski from a charity shop for 50p. I enjoyed it, and when I stumbled across the LP of the parent album, "Doctor Adamski’s Musical Pharmacy", in my usual emporium not long after, I couldn’t resist.

Recorded on his trusty Ensoniq SQ80 keyboard, with drums from a Roland TR-909 and a Yamaha RX120, the album captures one of the stars of the embryonic rave scene being pushed into the limelight by a major label. After scoring a huge number-one single six months earlier, Adamski’s second album was always likely to do reasonably well—but its Top 10 chart placing proved that dance music really did have commercial potential.

The massive hit single was, of course, “Killer”, and it felt revolutionary to me back in 1990—I hadn’t really heard anything quite like it before. Seal’s vocal was obviously a big part of the song’s success, but the bassline and drum programming were streets ahead of anything else around at the time. Sadly, I couldn’t afford the CD single when it came out, but my admiration for the track must have been well known as one of the Christmas cards I received that year featured a choirboy doctored to represent Adamski, complete with keyboard rig and an ADAMSKI number plate.

Beyond “Killer”, the album drew some criticism on release for being inconsistent and lacking cohesion. I can’t say I’m surprised: Adamski emerged from a frantic rave scene that was never going to be easily packaged as a neat, conventional pop product.  

So whilst there aren't many other conventional songs on this album, there are plenty of rave tunes to keep you moving. The crusty bass samples on "Eighth House" sound throaty and deep enough to rattle the bass cabinets of any nightclub and the wobbly synth lines of "Future Freak" are irresistible (Adamski must have thought so too as the song is on the album twice). 

Other highlights include the single "Space Jungle" in which Adam channels his inner Elvis. Whilst his vocals are never going to trouble Pavarotti, Adam is more than capable of carrying a melody and their naivety is really endearing. Personally I like this album and think it features some really great ideas. Whilst everything might sound a bit lo-fi and home-made today, it possesses a charm that endures. 3.5/5

Not quite the end of 'One record at a time' posts

After four and a half years and nearly 500 posts, I’ve finally done it: I’ve reached the end of my vinyl shelves. Every last record reviewed, every obscure pressing dutifully described, every questionable 80s sleeve design immortalised. For a brief moment I thought, “Well, that’s it then — early retirement from blogging.” But then I remembered the notes app on my phone, where I’ve been quietly hoarding a list of albums that slipped through the cracks. Seventy of them. Seventy.

These are the stragglers — records I bought after I’d already passed their alphabetical place in my reviewing journey. Some are re‑issues, some are second‑hand gems, and a few are things I can only assume I bought during moments of poor judgement or sale‑sticker enthusiasm. Only a handful contain new music, but there are enough oddities in the pile to keep me occupied (and mildly confused) for the rest of 2026.

As I began to take stock of my journey so far I discovered some unexpected stats. I always assumed my audience was largely UK‑based — you know, friends, fellow collectors, the occasional lost Googler trying to identify a record they found in their loft. But apparently only five per cent of my traffic comes from the UK. Most of my page views are from the USA, which is understandable, but a full twenty percent purport to originate in Singapore. Even Iraq is in there at one per cent.

Now, I’d love to believe I’m a cult international sensation, but let’s be honest: it’s probably just British readers using VPNs that make them appear to be blogging enthusiasts from around the world. Still, I’ll take it. Nothing boosts the ego quite like discovering you’re "big in Singapore".

Most views are via google.com with gearspace.com another significant source. I can usually tell when a post gets liked in a forum like gearspace as the views tend to spike for a few days. The most searched terms on the blog are "fairlight" and "fairlight cmi".

The most popular "One record at a time" post has been Kraftwerk "Trans Europe Express" with "Reproduction" by the Human League a close second. Another Kraftwerk post for "Electric Cafe" has also been popular along with "Penthouse and Pavement" by Heaven 17. I've tried to work out why these post get double or four times the views of others but failed to identify a pattern.

Sometimes I think a post becomes popular as it refers to a rare record and people searching for it on Goole will get a result from the blog. Sometimes a post that is particularity acerbic or complimentary might see a peak in popularity, but again, this isn't consistent. I've also wondered if the photo makes a difference and that people find the blog after an image search—but I've no evidence one way or another. So I'm just going to carry on posting as I was and hope all the people in Singapore like it.

One record at a time: 498. Various Artists - Now! That's What I Call Music 19

When I hear a song drifting from the TV or the radio, I often catch myself muttering things like, "I bought the 12-inch of this from HMV in Sheffield," or "I hate this song—it reminds me of a terrible week at university." My family find it amusing that I seem to bookmark life events with music, but I suppose that’s just how my brain works. And if you’re taking the time to read a music blog, I suspect your mind does something similar.

When I look at the track listing for "Now! That’s What I Call Music 19", I immediately know it dates from 1991. My memories of that period are mixed. On the one hand, there were extraordinary things happening in music—dance music in particular—and in youth culture more broadly. It was also a time when I discovered nightclubs. On the other hand, I was also having to deal with more grown‑up milestones such as learning to drive (which I managed) and passing exams (which I didn’t). This album seems to mirror that collision of worlds I was experiencing. 

"Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash enjoyed renewed success after being used in a television advertisement—Levi’s jeans, as memory (and a quick check) confirms. I’ve now reached an age where a song that’s ten years old still feels almost new, but back in 1991 it felt like this song had been dredged up from ancient history. 

It's a similar story for the next track "She's A Woman" by Scritti Politti in which a Beatles track is resurrected by the former pop idols alongside reggae artist Shabba Ranks. Everything about this was dull and uninteresting to me at the time and despite my new found love for Scritti Politti, I still don't find much merit in this particular track. 

Where this album comes alive is with the next two tracks. "You Got The Love" by The Source featuring Candi Staton is now considered something of a dance classic and I have fond memories of hearing it during my early nightclub adventures. However, even at this early stage I was aware this song wasn't quite what it seemed and it took me a long time (and access to the internet) before I finally understood its confusing provenance. As I understand it, the song was originally recorded by Candi Staton and a funk/soul group called The Source in 1986. The acapella of this track was then mixed over a house track called "Your Love" by Jamie Principle. This bootleg began to circulate and became something of an underground hit. Having secured the rights to release the bootleg, an English DJ called John Truelove decided to make his own version and adopted the band name The Source in the process. Confusing stuff.

Next up is "3AM Eternal" by The KLF. I'm pretty sure there is a whole generation of middle aged men in the UK who look back on the days of "Stadium House" with rose tinted spectacles—and why not? The KLF hit a sweet spot where they were intriguingly weird but produced highly infectious dance music. Whilst their career was relatively short, they burned bright. I knew it was all over when they threw a dead sheep on stage at the Brits and pretended to shoot everyone with machine guns. In retrospect I realise they secured their legacy that day: "Always leave them wanting more."

There's more dance tunes with "Gonna Make You Sweat" by C&C Music Factory and "(I Wanna Give You ) Devotion" by Nomad—but 808 State take the crown here with the magnificent "In Yer Face". Massive Attack dropped the 'attack' during the Gulf war, a decision that was equally mystifying as it was pretentious, so "Unfinished Sympathy" is credited accordingly. On the flip we are subjected to MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice and a terrible charity record. The fact that "Sadness Part I" by Enigma is head and shoulders above everything else on this side tells you all you need to know. 

On the second record we hear the rather turgid "Get Here" by Olita Adams and Rick Astley's 'comeback' (so it felt at the time anyway) called "Cry For Help".  I have always hated "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling" by The Righteous Brothers and was annoyed when it resurfaced in 1991. There is literally nothing redeeming about this song and I will be happy to never hear it again.

The final side features another ancient track that was dredged up by the charts called "All Right Now" by Free. I have no idea why a twenty year old song should become popular again but I suspect it will have been related to a TV advertisement or film (*checks* yes, it was an advert for chewing gum). Chris Isaak and Chris Rea then add some more middle aged guitar tunes before the more palatable INXS contribute "Disappear". There's more rock from Thunder and The Railway Children before Queen deliver the coup de grâce. All the points here are for The KLF and 808 State. Not what I call music 1/5

One record at a time: 497. Various Artists - The Hits Album 8

"The Hits Album 8" dates back to the summer of 1988 when Wet Wet Wet found massive success with a Beatles cover, The Timelords let their car write a number one single and rock poodles Heart scored big with "These Dreams". Yet, you won't find any of those tracks on this compilation. 

In less enlightened times record labels would sometimes restrict which compilation albums songs would end up on with Virgin and EMI artists featured on the "Now!" series and BMG and Warner artists on the "Hits" albums. Back in the day I regarded the "Hits" albums as the poor relation, yet when I look at the tracklisting here, I can't help but think the track selection is much better than its "Now! 12" counterpart. 

Things begin well with "Stay On These Roads" by a-ha. This song found the band at the peak of their powers and it was a big hit all over Europe—a worthy inclusion. The second track is "I'm Not Scared" by Eighth Wonder which was written and produced by Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe of Pet Shop Boys, and produced alongside Phil Harding. There's no doubt this was an explicit attempt to create a chart hit by emulating the hi-energy sound of Stock, Aitken and Waterman and it succeeded both commercially and artistically. Another thumbs up. 

Phil Harding provides an unexpected link to the next track "I Want You Back '88" by Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. Harding adds some synth bass to give a more contemporary sound but the result is a little jumbled and not up to the usual standard expected of the "Mixmaster". For me, the main highlight of the first side is yet another SAW remix in the form of "Voyage Voyage" by Direless. The melody and groove on this track transcend any language barriers and I have a new found appreciation for this song almost forty years after it was released. 

On the second side I enjoyed hearing "Boyfriend" by Pebbles (which I find surprising) and "Love is Contagious" by Taja Sevelle brought back some memories; everything else was disposable. Whilst I don’t really remember Tiffany’s version of ‘I Saw Him Standing There’, there’s a good chance I have previously heard it but my brain has politely chosen to erase that particular sonic abomination from my memory.

The second disc features the number one single "Somewhere In My Heart" by Aztec Camera; a song I have always liked. I remember this song appearing on Top of the Pops and thinking, "Where have these guys come from?" Followed a few months later by, "Well we never heard from Aztec Camera again," but I now know the band were more than a one hit wonder. Whilst tracks like "Sign Your Name" by Terrance Trent D'Arby or Sade's "Paradise" are noble efforts, they don't really excite me and I soon find myself flicking over to the final side.

The early sign on side four are good with Eurythmics, S'Express and Erasure all featured. I have to say I have never heard of Ofra Haza but the internet tells me "Im Nin'alu" did enter the UK top 20 so I guess it warrants inclusion. I'm less convinced of the merits of The Sisters of Mercy or The Jesus and Mary Chain but this is just a matter of taste.

As we continue our grind through my compilation albums, I find myself reflecting on the fact that nearly all of them were bought in a charity shops. Whilst this can sometimes result in a bargain, it can also mean you end up with a record that is pretty knackered. A bit like this one. Life hasn't been kind to either of these records and they are only just tolerable. I don't enjoy this collection much and it may even make its way back to a charity shop in the near future. 2/5

One record at a time: 496. Various Artists - The Right Stuff 2 - Nothing But A House Party

When I found this album in a charity shop and read that it contained "The 28 hottest 12 inch remixes for 1990", I immediately decided it had to come home with me. The sleeve also tries to claim some additional credibility with the sub-title "Nothing But A House Party", yet it seems fairly obvious from the tracklisting that this claim is a bit of a stretch. I don't recall this compilation from 'back in the day' (I was more into the Deep Heat series) but as it is the second volume I can only assume it was successful. 

As seems de rigueur with dance compilations of 1990, we begin with Technotronic. This time around we are treated to the track "Get Up! Before The Night Is Over (Dance Action Mix)" which was the follow up to the hugely successful debut "Pump Up The Jam". While I do enjoy the song, Technotronic were part of a wave of European acts that I never entirely trusted.

There was often an uneasy sense that the performers fronting these records weren’t necessarily the people who had actually created them. Many of these groups also seemed to rely heavily on expatriates for their English language vocals—particularly the rap sections. Although this was presumably intended to add authenticity, it rarely did. Instead, it felt like a thin veneer lay over these tunes, with the distinctly European undertones always shining through. In hindsight, the exposure of Milli Vanilli probably sowed the seeds of this scepticism. As a result, I was always a little wary of acts like Black Box, Snap!, Quadrophonia, J.K., Corona etc. etc.

The second track here describes itself as "Itaniano Disco" but I would argue it is just a SAW hi-energy number. Either way, it's definitely not true house or even Italo house come to that. Equally, the third number "Street Tough" by Double Trouble and the Rebel MC is a catchy song, but it's a Ska influenced pop tune that sounds a bit like a fish out of water.

Things do pick up a bit with "Go To Get" by Rob and Raz and the credentials of S'Express check out. Unfortunately the track by Redhead Kingpin And The FBI belongs to the short lived new jack swing genre that America seemed to be in love with during 1990. Side one finishes with a winner in the form of "Going Back To My Roots" by FPI project (again an Italian group fronted by an English session vocalist) and the piano riff here is iconic. 

Side two opens with terrible rap/shouting nonsense called "20 Seconds To Comply (Pumped Up Mix)" in which the writer seems to have discovered a RoboCop sample and gone to town with it. I know that De La Soul are revered and seem to be credited with creating numerous sub-genres of hip-hop; but I'm not a fan and an extended version of "The Magic Number" just annoys me.

The Beatmasters thrown down the "Lately Bass" from a Yamaha DX-27/100 alongside some breakbeats and a great rap by Betty Boo on "Hey DJ/I Can't Dance To That The Music You're Playing". Yet another Italian house outfit Magic Concept throw their hat into the ring with "Unstoppable" but this seems to be an edit rather than the "12 inch mix". "Let There Be House" by Deskee (an American expat living in Germany) features a much overused Korg M1 organ bassline alongside the riff from "This Brutal House" by Nitro Deluxe (also used on "Brutal-8-E" by Altern8) .

Inner City are uncharacteristically chilled on "Watcha Gonna Do With My Lovin'" which is remixed by Frankie Knuckles and David Morales—making me wonder if this was simply an exercise in seeing just how many house legends you can you cram into one record. Sydney Youngblood (yet another American expat in Germany) contributes the wonderful "If Only I Could"—but again its not the 12" mix that plays. I don't suppose you can have any kind of compilation from 1990 that doesn't include Black Box "Ride On Time" but I've heard this thing so many times it has lost any limited appeal it might have had. Kaoma "Lambada" has no place on any record ever, and it certainly shouldn't be included one that purports to offer hot remixes—I can't overstate just how much I hate this song. 

As I reflect on what I have just been subjected to heard, I can't help but think I have misunderstood what the record company meant by a 'house party'. Rather than, 'a party where they play house music', I think they actually meant 'a party at the house of someone who has just discovered Italo house but still has a dodgy taste in pop music'. Not quite as catchy a title though is it? 2/5

One record at a time: 495. Various Artists - The Singing Detective (Music From The BBC-TV Serial)

The Singing Detective was a TV series that was originally broadcast in the UK during 1986. I first saw it when it was repeated sometime after the millennium and I enjoyed lots of the music used in the show. 

The series was set in the 1950's so it featured lots of jazz and novelty recordings from the thirties and forties. Normally I wouldn't be a fan of this sort of music, but it really worked in the context of the show and got into my head. 

Not long after I first saw the show I bought a CD compilation but this vinyl came into my possession in 2022. To be honest I'm not really sure why I bought this record as the fidelity of the source material is inferior to the carrier and everything is in mono. Equally, the vinyl has half the number of tracks that were featured on the CD release, so it is really difficult to make a case for this record at all. 

The main theme from The Singing Detective is an instrumental version of "Peg o' My Heart" which was recorded for the series by composer Max Harris. The original recording that inspired the writer of the series, Dennis Potter, dates back to 1947 but one would presume the producer of the television programme needed a high fidelity version of the tune for broadcast.

Almost all of the other tracks on this album are sourced from an old shellac 78 records, so there's plenty of crackles and additional noise accompanying the music. I have no doubt this record adds some of its own noise on top of the source recording so the result is almost constant crackles. There are a few tracks that sound like they are sourced from tape, such as "Dry Bones" by Fred Waring And His Pennsylvanians, but generally everything here is best consumed in short doses due to the extra noise.

However, for me, there are two significant elements on this record. The first is the appearance of The Ink Spots. There's something about the voice of lead singer Bill Kenny that is magical and I have admired the group's work since this compilation introduced me to them.

From an electronic music perspective you could argue that the inclusion of "We'll Meet Again" by Vera Lynn is quite significant as it features an instrument called the Novachord. This keyboard was manufactured by Hammond and Wikipedia asserts that it was the first ever commercially available polyphonic synthesizer. I'm not really sure what sounds the machine was capable of, but the end result sounds just like an organ to me. Disappointing, but historic nonetheless. 1/5

One record at a time: 494. Various Artists - Now Dance 903 - The 12" Mixes

Twenty years ago I found this double vinyl compilation lurking in the back of a charity shop. The promise of full 12" mixes coupled with the allure of a gatefold sleeve resulted in an impulse purchase. As it turned out, the records themselves are in near perfect condition with little or no addition noise. The only slight downside is that in order to accommodate this number of 12" tracks onto one side of vinyl the mastering is pretty quiet and you have to crank the volume to get a reasonable sound from it.

On the surface this compilation seems to frame itself as a dance album with a degree of club credibility. Yet if we look at the rather eclectic track listing we can see that this is far from being a persuasive dance anthology. Classifying artists such as Glenn Medeiros or The Soup Dragons as dance music is something of a stretch—and if I were an artist on the other end of the dance credibility scale (e.g. LFO, Inner City, Stevie V) I might be a little upset at being bundled in with such artists.

The album kicks off with the club version of "Megamix" by Technotronic. Even back in 1990 I never really understood why people would buy a 'mega mix'. As I listening experience I don't really see any merit in them and to my mind they only make sense as a tool for lazy DJs. Yet a number of contemporary bands released singles that gathered together their recent hits and they were alarmingly successful. I remember mega mix offerings from Snap! and Blackbox, but the Technotronic single had passed me by until I heard this record. As an example of the genre it's fairly unremarkable but it is nice to hear "Rockin' Over The Beat" and "Pump Up The Jam" again.

Betty Boo comes up next with the 12" mix of "Where Are You Baby". This track has a Motown flavour and a twee pop melody that saw it become a chart hit—but I'm not sure it really qualifies as dance music. Much more palatable is the club mix of Twenty Four Seven's "I Can't Stand It". The Korg M1 piano and Roland D-50 "Soundtrack" synths instantly transport me back to my teenage years and a time when dance music was the future.

Kevin Saunderson rocks up next with "That Man (He's All Mine)". Whilst this is no "Big Fun", the TR-909 programming and rolling bass have an authentic house feel that the pop tracks on this compilation can't match. Side one finishes with the 'Long version' of "She Ain't Worth It" by Glenn Medeiros. This track appropriates the new jack swing sound that was so fashionable in 1990, but the end result couldn't sound more dated if it tried. Yuk.

Things pick up a bit on the b-side with "Fascinating Rhythm" which was released by the William Orbit vehicle Bass-o-matic. Next up is the majestic "Live at Transcentral" mix of "What Time Is Love?" by The KLF which shines bright like a diamond. Stevie V contributes hit track "Body Language" and once again its, genuine house sound adds some credibility to proceedings. The efforts of Monie Love and Neneh Cherry at the end of the disc don't entice me and I am quite pleased when I can move on.

"Naked In The Rain" by Blue Pearl impressed me a great deal when it was released and I even bought the resulting album. The '12" extended mix' of the track included here benefits from a remix by Graham Massey and sounds as fresh as it did all those years ago. Next up is "LFO" by LFO and the original 'Leeds Warehouse Mix' remains an enduring tribute to a lost talent.

We hit a bit of a soggy patch with the next two tracks as both "Mother Universe" by The Soup Dragons and "Groovy Train" by The Farm sound out of place in this company. We round out this side of the disc with "You're Walking" by Electribe 101 in the form of the funkier 'Corporate Dance Mix'.

The Korg M1 presets are scattered all over "Don't Be Fool" by Loose Ends but this is the most exciting thing I can find to say about what is a thinly veiled (and overly long) copy of Soul II Soul. There's a wonderful pounding TR-909 kick on "Let's Push It" by Innocence but the saxophone samples are irritating beyond belief. A band called Young Disciples sound like they have turned up to completely the wrong party and can be summarily dismissed. Norman Cook delivers a Beats International number called "Burundi Blues"—but "Praise You" this is not. Fittingly the final track "Hardcore Uproar" by Together is a rave classic whose raw originality rivals the big hitters on here such as The KLF and LFO.

A wildly inconsistent album that applies a very loose interpretation of the 'dance' tag. Where it is good, it is very good. Where it is bad, well...2/5 

One record at a time: 493. Yellow Magic Orchestra - Technodelic

"Technodelic" was originally released in 1981 but my copy is one of the numbered clear vinyl copies released by Music On Vinyl in 2016. Once again the sound is very good and I can't fault the packaging—a highly recommended pressing.

Back in the early eighties lots of artists seem to have discovered sampling and created records using the new technology. When OMD bought an E-MU Emulator they went crazy sampling old radios and turned out the career stifling "Dazzle Ships". Like OMD, Jean-Michel Jarre adopted the Emulator along with the Fairlight CMI and went berserk with sampled voices on "Zoolook". Depeche Mode's "Construction Time Again" saw a sea-change in their sound thanks to samplers and Peter Gabriel's fourth solo album seemed to wake lots of people up to the possibilities the new technology posed.

Around the same time, YMO began using a prototype Toshiba-EMI LMD-649 sampler to create this album. As with many artists using this technology for the first time, YMO chose to sample the one thing they couldn't replicate with synthesizers: the human voice. Personally I'm not convinced that sampling phonemes and ethnic chants is the best use of a sampler, but these were early days and artists were exploring what was possible.

As opening lines go, "This must be the ugliest piece of bread I have ever eaten," isn't likely to trouble Shakespeare or Wordsworth, but it certainly makes an impression. Beyond the vocal introduction "Pure Jam" emerges as a rather avant-garde piece that moves YMO into more serious territory. There's an electronic precision to the groove on this song that I find really appealing and its astonishing to think it was released forty five years ago. The synth riff that runs in the background reminds me of "Jumbo" by Underworld.

The new music direction continues on "Neue Tanz" which sees the new sampler employed as a drum machine. Whilst Yukihiro Takahashi's drums return for third track "Stairs" it is the juxtaposition between Sakamoto's piano flourishes and the metronomic synth arpeggios that catch my ear hear.  

One of my favourite tracks on the album is "Seoul Music" which uses samples of ethnic chants to form the core of the backing track. Harry Hosono's bass is fluid and funky whilst the drumming provides a relentless groove. Side One finishes with "Light In Darkness" which is a good piece but it doesn't develop beyond the initial idea.

"Taiso" on the flip side is possibly the most light hearted piece you will find on this album but even this track has an ominous air thanks its spoken verses delivered via a megaphone. Another one of my favourite pieces is "Gradated Grey" which is hypnotic and infectious. 

"Key" couldn't sound more 'eighties' if it tried and in some senses it foreshadows the stylish pop of the follow up album "Naughty Boys". There are two short compositions by Ryuichi Sakamoto to finish the album called "Prologue" and "Epilogue". Both of these songs continue to utilise the new sampler for their rhythmical content but "Prologue" relies on a short ostinato to provide melody whilst "Epilogue" takes a more discordant and ambient approach. 

There's no doubt this is a highly inventive album and demonstrates how far the style of the band shifted in just three short years. To my ears this album provides a great contrast to the lighter pop of its predecessors and demonstrates just how astonishingly talented the three band members were. 4/5