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 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