One record at a time: 530. Alison Goldfrapp - Flux

Two years after "The Love Invention", Alison Goldfrapp returned in 2025 with "Flux", her second solo album and the first release on her own A.G. Records label. If her debut was a confident stride onto the dancefloor, Flux feels like a continuation of that journey, only with a little more depth tucked beneath the shimmer. The music is still sleek, synthetic and beautifully upholstered, but there is more space here, more atmosphere, and rather more gazing at the sky while quietly wondering what it all means. Which, frankly, feels very Alison Goldfrapp.

I pre-ordered the standard black vinyl from Alison’s webstore, lured in by the promise of an art print that turned out to be rather underwhelming and not quite as exclusive as advertised. Then I spotted the slightly more coveted 'acid yellow' version in a gatefold sleeve in HMV and, naturally, couldn’t resist. They even threw in a postcard, so really, what choice did I have?

As if further proof were needed of Richard X’s genius, he returns here as writer and producer, bringing with him that immaculate electro-pop sheen that sounds as though someone has taken a polishing cloth to a very expensive synthesiser. He is complemented by Swedish all-round clever clogs Stefan Storm, whose contributions help give the album its dreamy, Nordic shimmer. The icing on the cake is provided by the magnificent string arrangements of Davide Rossi, whose playing adds real emotional lift without ever making the record feel overstuffed.

Until I heard this album, I had not realised that Rossi works by recording all the string parts himself. He writes the arrangement, then records dozens of separate takes on top of one another. By slightly shifting his physical position and changing instruments, he creates the natural timing and pitch variations of a real live orchestra, while avoiding the phasing and other issues that affected bands like Electric Light Orchestra when they tried similar techniques back in the seventies. It is a wonderfully old-fashioned idea delivered with modern precision: one man painstakingly pretending to be an orchestra, which is either artistic genius or a very elaborate way of avoiding having to book a rehearsal room.

The album opens with “Hey Hi Hello”, a song that does exactly what an opener should do: it ushers you in with a smile, a shimmer and the faint suspicion that the lighting budget has been totally rinsed. “Sound & Light” follows with a broader sense of wonder and the slightly dangerous urge to turn every personal revelation into a very elegant synth line. There is some genuine emotion in this record too, with songs like “Perfect Lies” feeling strangely autobiographical, as if something more personal is flickering beneath the immaculate surface.

“Reverberotic” is one of the album’s most immediate pleasures, all robotic pulse and glossy suggestion, and its quirky textures are hard to deny. “Find Xanadu” gives the record its clearest pop moment. It is bright, melodic and just knowingly ridiculous enough to work, which is often where Goldfrapp is at her best. “UltraSky” and “Strange Things Happen” lean more heavily into atmosphere, drifting through clouds of synth and strings with the sort of poise that makes you feel underdressed just listening to them. 

For me, “Cinnamon Light” is the special one, both in concept and execution. It has that slightly woozy eighties glow that Goldfrapp does so well, but there is a vulnerability beneath the gloss that keeps it from becoming mere retro styling. The strings do not swamp the song; they seem to breathe around it. It is understated, graceful and quietly affecting, the sort of track that does not elbow its way to the front but ends up staying with you long after the brighter singles have done their glittery business. 

“Play It (Shine Like a Nova Star)” adds a firmer thump and a welcome flash of club energy, reminding you that Goldfrapp can still make electronic pop feel bodily rather than merely decorative. The slinky and reflective "Ordinary Day" begins to wind the album down before the heat and grit of "Magma" delivers the final glorious blow. 

Overall, "Flux" feels less like refinement rather than reinvention. It does not have the shock of the new, and it probably will not convert anyone who has always found Alison's solo work a little too cool to touch, but it is a stronger, richer and more emotionally open record than it first appears. 4.5/5

One record at a time: 529. Alison Goldfrapp - The Love Reinvention

Although this remix album began life as a set of digital files, it did receive a limited run of 1,000 physical copies for Record Store Day in 2023. Naturally, I had no intention of standing outside a shop for hours with middle aged men who talk to themselves, so I did the sensible thing and bought it online once the stampede had passed. At the time, it sold for a perfectly reasonable retail price. Now, inevitably, people are asking daft money for it, because nothing says "celebration of independent record shops" quite like giving scalpers an opportunity to line their pockets. 

As I mentioned when writing about the original album, the material being reworked here is already elegant, synthetic and quietly euphoric, so the remixers are not exactly starting with a packet of crayons in one colour. Working again with Richard X and James Greenwood, the project reshapes the 11-track set through a polished blend of techno, electronica and deep house. I tend to prefer remixes made by the original artist or producer, because they usually preserve the DNA of the source material while finding new angles within it. In short,these mixes feel like alternative versions rather than having been completely anonymised by people like The Orb or Underworld.

"Never Stop Loving" increases the tempo and somehow manages to turn the fat bassline of the original into something monstrous, the sort of thing that does not so much test your speakers as threaten them with destruction. The seven minutes fly by in a relentless barrage that compels you to dance, or at least move your arms in time with the music while pretending you have not put your back out unloading the dishwasher. There are still traces of the original’s romance and shimmer, but everything has been tightened, polished and sent out under a mirror ball with clearer instructions.

The title track picks up that idea and runs with it, pulsing along with a faint whiff of Kraftwerk in its clipped rhythms and clean electronic lines. Alison’s voice remains the human centre of it all, drifting through the circuitry rather than being buried beneath it, which is where these remixes work best. They never forget that beneath the programming, filters and beautifully buffed surfaces, there are actual songs trying to breathe.

"Dug Deeper" leans harder into the club sound without abandoning what made the original work. It has more weight, more propulsion and a slightly sweatier feel, as if someone opened the studio door and discovered there was a basement rave going on underneath. That is the trick across the album: the mixes stretch out, most of them comfortably passing the five-minute mark, but they rarely feel padded. The extra space gives the arrangements room to build, circle back and reveal small details that might otherwise have flashed past in the original versions.

What helps "The Love Reinvention" avoid the usual remix-album trap is that it feels curated rather than emptied out and repacked for the dance tent. There is a proper sense of continuity here, but also enough movement and muscle to justify its existence as a separate listen. It is less a random bundle of versions and more a late-night reflection of the parent album, the same songs seen through glass, smoke and possibly a very expensive lighting rig.

Whilst I love this album, it won't convert anyone allergic to extended electronic mixes, and it may test the patience of those who think every song should get to the point before the kettle boils. For the rest of us, though, it is a generous, stylish and surprisingly cohesive companion piece. Just do not pay a ridiculous resale price for it, unless you enjoy being mugged by someone with a plastic outer sleeve and a Discogs account. 4/5

One record at a time: 528. Alison Goldfrapp - The Love Invention

Whilst I have always liked the band Goldfrapp, I have found myself oddly, and perhaps slightly treacherously, preferring the solo work of lead singer Alison Goldfrapp. "The Love Invention", released in 2023, was one of those albums I first bought as digital files before realising that this simply would not do. Some records demand to be owned on vinyl. 

Opening track "NeverStop" sets out its stall immediately, all deep, groovy basslines, electronic burbling and Alison’s airy vocal floating above the machinery like a glamorous ghost in a very expensive nightclub. The fact that Richard X is involved as co-writer and producer is no surprise. If you are going to make a record that glows with sleek electronic confidence, you may as well bring in the one man who knows exactly where the glitter switch is.

What follows is pure electronic pleasure. The title track glides along with polished disco assurance, "Fever" wears its house influences on its sleeve, and "So Hard So Hot" sounds as though Donna Summer’s "I Feel Love" has been sent forward in time, given a software update and told to behave badly. Even "Gatto Gelato", a title that sounds like something you might order confidently in Rome before discovering it translates roughly as "frozen cat", works beautifully, bringing a slightly Italo-disco flavour without tipping over into novelty.

Alison has always struck me as an artist who thinks at a slight angle to the rest of us. Like Róisín Murphy, she seems to regard the obvious route as something best avoided, preferably while wearing something architectural and looking as though she has just stepped out of a dream sequence directed by someone with an excellent synthesizer collection. This album provides the aural evidence of this theory.

The real joy of "The Love Invention" is that it never apologises for being an electronic dance record. It does not suddenly stop halfway through for an earnest acoustic ballad, nor does it allow a sneaky drum solo to wander in wearing sandals. As far as I can tell, there are no acoustic instruments here at all, and frankly, that is cause for celebration. The record knows what it is: elegant, sensual, synthetic, euphoric and beautifully produced. Alison’s voice remains that strange, icy-warm instrument, capable of sounding intimate and untouchable at the same time, which is quite a trick.

For me, "The Love Invention" is an affirmation of the continuing value of electronic music as something stylish, emotional and deeply human, even when most of the sounds appear to have been generated by equipment with more lights than a seventies discothèque. I wish there were more records like this: intelligent, glamorous, danceable and just odd enough around the edges to keep things interesting. It is Alison Goldfrapp stepping out under her own name and proving that, solo or otherwise, she remains one of electronic pop’s most compelling presences. 4/5

One record at a time: 527. Front 242 - Tyranny For You

I first heard Front 242 not long after "Tyranny >For You<" was released in 1991. At the time, my musical universe revolved around cassettes and compact discs, so the idea of buying this album on vinyl was as alien as wearing lipstick: fine for some, but not for me. Whilst I still don’t wear lipstick, I did buy this reissue of the LP in 2023. The vinyl sounds good; there are some crackles here and there but the strong dynamics mean the music jumps out of the speakers. 

Musically, this album marks the zenith of Front 242’s output for me. They had made great records before it, not least "Official Version" and "Front By Front", but this is where everything seems to lock into place with unnerving precision. The production is sharper, and the atmosphere is both clinical and oddly human.

The singles, “Rhythm of Time” and “Tragedy >For You<”, are fine examples of this album's sound. Both are brash, tightly executed and delivered with the confidence of a band who know they have found an audience. “Rhythm of Time” has the most immediate pull, driven by a clipped, marching momentum and a chorus that almost qualifies as accessible, provided your idea of accessibility includes concrete, steel and a light threat of surveillance.

“Tragedy >For You<” is even better: dramatic, disciplined and just theatrical enough without tipping into pantomime villainy. Jean-Luc De Meyer sounds magnificent throughout the record, his voice cutting through the programming like an instruction issued from a bunker. Richard 23’s presence gives the whole thing extra bite, and the classic line-up feels fully intact here, each part contributing to a record that sounds designed rather than merely assembled.

The album is not just about the obvious singles, though. “Sacrifice” opens with real menace, setting out the record’s cold, martial mood without needing to over-explain itself. “Moldavia” is one of the great deep cuts, all pressure and momentum, a track that seems to move forward by mechanical obligation. “Trigger 2” and “Gripped by Fear” deepen the atmosphere, while “Neurobashing” strips things back into something lean, brutal and effective. Even “Leitmotiv 136” feels like a necessary tightening of the screws before “Soul Manager” closes the standard album with a hypotonic bassline and stuttering rhythms.

One irritation with the vinyl edition is the absence of the hidden CD material, “Hard Rock” and “Trigger 1”. It is a shame, because those little buried extras add to the sense of the record as a complete artefact, slightly mysterious and faintly hostile to anyone who just wanted ten neatly labelled songs and no funny business. Still, the core album is strong enough to survive the omission, even if some of us still feel the need to mutter about it whilst standing in front of our Kallax shelving units.

What makes "Tyranny >For You<" so compelling is that it feels like both a culmination and an endpoint. After this, Front 242 would fragment stylistically, bringing in new contributors and shifting the role of the classic vocal presence. Some of that later work is interesting, but it rarely feels as cohesive as this. Here the balance is perfect: industrial severity, dancefloor force, cryptic slogans, physical percussion and just enough melody to make the punishment memorable. 4/5

One record at a time: 526. John Foxx - The Golden Section

To bolster my John Foxx vinyl collection, I picked up the 40th Anniversary edition of "The Golden Section". My copy arrived signed by the artist, which ought to feel thrilling, though this is becoming such a regular occurrence that I may soon have to start pretending to be harder to impress. This edition is pressed on clear vinyl, although because it was manufactured by GZ Media, "clear" turns out to mean "milky with ambitions". As usual, the inner sleeve came generously stocked with paper dust and assorted debris. It is best to think of this as celebratory confetti marking the arrival of a new record. If you choose to consider it the result of poor quality control, the whole experience becomes more upsetting.

"The Golden Section" arrived three years after Foxx’s iconic debut "Metamatic", and it finds him moving into much lusher, more polished territory. The austere, ice-cold minimalism of that earlier record has not disappeared entirely, but here it is softened and refracted through a more openly melodic, and at times almost commercial prism. Rather than remaining tucked away with engineer Gareth Jones, Foxx assembled a cast that included Mike Howlett, Zeus B Held and J.J. Jeczalik, and the result is a beautifully crafted cocktail of early synth-pop. Bass guitar, Simmons SDSV drums and the Fairlight all play a significant role in shifting the sound away from the brittle, taut edges of "Metamatic" and towards something richer, sleeker and more romantic. It is still unmistakably Foxx, but this time he seems less interested in documenting the end of the modern world and more interested in providing the soundtrack for a slightly mysterious evening in it.

"Someone" is an excellent example of this new approach, with Fairlight strings and Foxx’s brooding vocal combining to produce something close to perfect electronic pop. It has elegance, restraint and just enough emotional distance to remind you whose album this is. For me, though, the two real standouts are "Your Dress" and "Endlessly". "Your Dress" is a sleek, dance-rock inflected track built around sharp Fairlight samples and a crisp, stylish sense of momentum. "Endlessly" is a multi-layered pop song with a driving bassline and a gorgeous, melancholy melody, and it manages to sound both emotionally open and meticulously controlled. It captures that very brief intersection between Foxx’s solo identity and the more expansive arena-synth trajectory of his former band, Ultravox. 

The embarrassment of riches on this record means there are strong ideas and melodies elsewhere, particularly on tracks such as "Ghost on the Water" and "Like a Miracle". These songs have a slightly darker sound, which provides a welcome counterpoint to the pop orientated material such as "My Wild Love". There is a faint sense throughout that John Foxx is balancing instinct with calculation, never quite abandoning his distinctive cool but presenting it in a form polished enough for wider consumption. That tension gives the record much of its character. Even when it aims for sleekness, there is still something slightly strange and emotionally distant lurking underneath, which is usually when the album is at its most interesting. Things tail off a little towards the end, but it is impossible to lose sight of what has gone before. By that point the album has already made its case, not as a flawless whole, but as a stylish, intelligent and often quietly addictive record that rewards repeated listens. 3.5/5

One record at a time: 525. John Foxx - Metamatic

As I sit writing these posts, I occasionally notice odd holes in my collection. Sometimes I have convinced myself an artist is already safely housed on the shelves, only to discover that what I actually own is a battered compact disc hiding elsewhere and doing a poor job of it. John Foxx was one such case. Thankfully, the ever-reliable Burning Shed came to the rescue with a handsome limited 45th anniversary grey vinyl edition of "Metamatic", complete with a signed art print, which is exactly the sort of thing designed to part middle-aged music fans from their money with alarming ease. 

Foxx's debut album first appeared in 1980, and this edition is a timely reminder that it remains one of the key records in the shift from new wave into synth pop. "Metamatic" still sounds startlingly modern, built from stripped back drum machines, skeletal synth lines and a very deliberate sense of urban unease. There is very little clutter here, no indulgent fluff and certainly no effort to make you feel comfortable. It is precise, clinical and stylish, and gives the distinct impression that your approval is neither required nor especially wanted. This album still sounds like tomorrow, albeit a slightly bleak tomorrow in which nobody smiles much.

"Underpass" and "No-One Driving" are the obvious entry points, and rightly so. Both are superb, full of tension, repetition and motorway paranoia. They feel like a gritty British riposte to the sleek Germanic efficiency of "Autobahn". Kraftwerk may glide happily down the motorway in a spotless Mercedes-Benz, but in Foxx’s world the humans are no longer the ones driving and the landscape appears to be quietly catching fire. 

Elsewhere, tracks such as "He’s A Liquid", "Metal Beat" and "A New Kind Of Man" show just how fully formed Foxx’s vision already was. Nothing feels accidental. Every sound seems placed with care, even if that care occasionally suggests a man who trusted machines more than people, which, to be fair, is not always the worst instinct. As a listen, "Metamatic" is not warm, cosy or remotely background friendly. It is sleek, detached, influential and still hugely enjoyable, a record that sounds as if it arrived from a cleaner, stranger future, took one look around and decided standards had slipped. 4/5

One record at a time: 524. Erasure - The Neon Live

Back in September 2022 I reviewed "Day-Glo (Based on a True Story)", where I lamented that Erasure had somehow managed to spin one mediocre album into four separate releases. Well, here we are with the fifth and final instalment in that saga: the obligatory live album. Back in the eighties, the bands I liked rarely bothered with live albums because concert videos were the format of choice. These days, though, barely a year seems to pass without another one appearing, like an annual reminder that completists are not allowed financial peace.

The digital version of this album appeared in early 2022, but the vinyl was delayed by a year because of unspecified manufacturing issues, which is record industry language for ‘please stop asking’. The end result is a triple ‘violet sparkle’ set, limited to 1,500 copies, and it does look rather handsome. That said, I am not entirely convinced it flew off the shelves, as you can still pick it up now for around £48. Then again, that price may have had something to do with the lack of stampede.

The track listing captures a full set, compiled from the band’s preferred performance across two shows. Like many live releases today, the audio was taken directly from the soundboard by Live Here Now and then given a few light post-production touches. In other words, it still sounds like a real gig rather than something painstakingly rebuilt in a studio by people terrified of crowd noise.

Proceedings kick off in fine style with the hit single "Chorus", which stays largely faithful to the original but includes just enough fresh touches to reassure the listener that Vince did not simply press play on MainStage and head off for a sit down. As this tour was promoting "Neon", we must first make our peace with the lead single from that album before arriving at a favourite of mine, and indeed of Vince’s, "Fill Us With Fire". There is also another more recent track in "Sacred", the appearance of which may briefly worry more casual observers that the set is going to neglect the bigger eighties material. Thankfully, "The Circus" soon rolls in to calm any such nerves.

Eurythmics’ "Love Is a Stranger" slips into the set rather neatly and helps banish some of the shame that still lingers from "Other People's Songs". Other highlights include a revamped "Push Me Shove Me" and "Turns the Love to Anger", both of which are welcome additions even if neither quite topples the original studio versions. Still, there is something rather admirable about Erasure’s refusal to treat their early catalogue like an embarrassing school photograph that must never be shown to guests. Unlike Depeche Mode and certain other contemporaries, who can sometimes give the impression that their history begins somewhere around the point they became internationally solemn, Erasure remain refreshingly happy to rummage through the older shelves. They are just as likely to dust off a B-side from one of their earliest singles as they are to showcase something more recent, and that generosity towards their own catalogue gives the set an extra bit of charm. It also means long-time fans are rewarded for having stuck around, bought the twelve-inch singles and, in some cases, carried unreasonable quantities of CD singles home over the years. 

For me, this is a definite improvement on "World Be Live", which never quite managed to shake the feeling that it had been issued more out of duty than inspiration. This one has a bit more life in it, a bit more warmth, and a stronger sense that the band are actually enjoying themselves rather than simply working their way through the set list with professional efficiency. That said, a live album is still not my favourite way to hear Erasure. I will almost always reach for the studio records first, where the songs arrive in their natural habitat, polished, precise and gloriously synthetic. Even so, this works well enough as a diversion and, for those who like a souvenir of the live experience, it does the job rather nicely. It may not be essential, but it is certainly a more entertaining addition to the shelf than some of their previous attempts, and at the very least it gives the violet sparkle vinyl something respectable to do. 3/5