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

One record at a time: 523. Erasure - Always - The Very Best Of Erasure

When you are a fan of music from the eighties, you can grow a little weary of artists endlessly releasing ‘best of’ compilations. Level 42 seem to have clocked up almost twenty different collections, while The Human League and Vangelis appear to have at least a dozen each to their names. In the case of Erasure, the situation is not quite so excessive, but there had already been four best-of compilations before this album arrived in 2015. Originally issued on compact disc and as digital files, it was given a vinyl release in 2023, presumably after someone at BMG spotted an opportunity too obvious to ignore. It comes as a double album and, as one of the few records I own pressed by MPO in France, I am pleased to report that it sounds pretty good. The track listing though, is another story.

"Who Needs Love Like That" was a commercial and critical disappointment when first released as a single, and its inclusion here brings the title of this collection into rather sharp focus. This is not presented as a singles set or a greatest hits package, but as a ‘best of’ or, to give it its full ceremonial flourish, a "Very Best Of". The trouble is that ‘best’ is an entirely subjective idea, and my choices would almost certainly bear little resemblance to anyone else’s. In practice, all compilations, regardless of the title usually end up favouring the most commercial songs, as sales are treated as a convenient substitute for judgement. Yet not everything worth hearing was ever designed to be a hit, which is why I would take the B-side "Push Me Shove Me" over the first track on this record without a moment’s hesitation.

As with the band’s career itself, everything really begins to gather pace with "Sometimes". From there, as the record moves through the classic singles from "The Circus" and "The Innocents", the quality improves markedly and the collection starts to pander to a wider audience.

The high point of the record, for me, is the immaculate trio of "Stop!", "Drama!" and "Blue Savannah" (the flow of which is disturbed by a split across discs), all drawn from that 1988 to 1989 period when both Erasure and pop music seemed to reach a kind of pre-dance zenith. The singles from "Chorus" also bring back strong memories of the early nineties and my days at college, but if we really want to hear the band at their best from this era, we should probably be turning instead to album tracks such as "Joan", "Man in the Moon" and "Turns the Love to Anger".

One of my main gripes with this album is that the "Cowboy" era is ignored completely, leaving wonderful songs such as "Worlds on Fire" and "How Can I Say" out in the cold. Hell, even the singles "In My Arms" and "Don’t Say Your Love Is Killing Me" fail to make the cut. Once the collection reaches the more contemporary material, tracks such as "Be With You" and "Elevation" occasionally reveal a certain lyrical flimsiness when set against their magnum opuses, and you begin to long for the stronger melodies that seemed to come so effortlessly in the late eighties. Still, most of us are not capable of what we once were, so I will not judge Vince and Andy too harshly.

This record does not really cater for those already familiar with the band’s work. It is more of a hits package for the casual observer, though I am not entirely convinced there are vast numbers of casual observers clamouring for a double vinyl compilation. Personally, I would much rather have had something along the lines of the two discs of Vince and Andy’s own favourite selections included in the "From Moscow To Mars" box set. But that would have involved spending money and applying thought, two activities record companies tend to avoid when there is already a shelf full of material waiting to be repackaged for another modest raid on the loyal fan’s wallet. 3/5

One record at a time: 522. Electronic - Get The Message - The Best Of Electronic

The decision to reissue this compilation on vinyl in 2022 made perfect sense. Unfortunately, the people tasked with making it happen made a complete hash of it. Exhibit A is the artwork. The sleeve is so badly pixelated it looks as if the record company pinched the image from the original CD booklet, blew it up, and hoped nobody would notice. It practically howls corner-cutting. Or, if we are being charitable, incompetence. The paper used for the inner sleeves is so flimsy that a stiff breeze could finish it off, and mine look as if they were assembled by someone wearing a blindfold and one oven glove. The records themselves sound OK but they aren’t going to win any awards.

To be honest I am not too enamoured with the track selection on this compilation either. When it first appeared in 2006, I found it underwhelming, and time has not exactly rushed to its defence. Yes, all the singles are here, but so are b-sides and a rather generous helping of tracks from the disappointing "Twisted Tenderness" album. Electronic’s career was a story of diminishing returns. They started in a glorious sweet spot between commercial appeal and artistic freedom, then gradually drifted back into the same frustrated territory they had seemed so keen to escape. For me, any compilation that ventures beyond the singles should lean heavily on the superb debut album and show a little less affection for the later material. That is not just personal preference talking. It is also a fairly plain reflection of how the records connected, or failed to connect, with the wider world.

Pixelated sleeve

Things begin pleasingly enough with "Forbidden City", a wonderful song that found the band at their peak. From there we move through terrific singles such as "Get The Message", "Feel Every Beat" and "Disappointed" before running headlong into a rather baffling choice at the end of the first disc. "All That I Need", the b-side to "For You" from 1996, is a guitar-driven indie rock excursion that does very little for me. It is perfectly competent and does at least contain a melody, which already puts it ahead of some offenders in this genre, but it still hardly qualifies as part of the band’s finest work. 

The second disc opens with "Prodigal Son", which was not a single, although there was a promotional 10” release that somehow transformed a mediocre album track into a small pile of deeply dubious remixes. That still feels like a fairly weak case for rolling out the welcome mat here. Then there is a "New Edit" of "Imitation of Life", which lops more than two minutes off the original b-side for no obvious reason beyond perhaps a general hostility to patience. The song came from the same sessions with Karl Barton that produced material for "Raise the Pressure", yet it did not make that album, which rather raises the question of why it has been dug up for this set. We then stagger to the finish line with a cluster of songs from "Twisted Tenderness" that, title track aside, simply do not land for me. I would much rather be listening to "Idiot Country" or "Try All You Want", because those songs capture the band at their best, whereas this closing stretch feels like the compilation putting its shoes on the wrong feet and insisting everything is absolutely fine. 3/5