One record at a time: 547. New Order - The Best Of

For reasons best left to a therapist, or at least someone with a clipboard who looks over the top of their glasses, I seem to be starting a lot of posts recently with a reminiscence. This is either charmingly reflective or an early warning sign that I now communicate mainly in flashbacks. Either way, this record takes me straight back to 1994: walking to college under the full weight of youth, which at the time involved equal parts stress, joy and questionable life choices.

I always knew New Order made music I ought to like. They were, and remain, Pet Shop Boys adjacent, which in my world is less a description and more a recommendation. But beyond the odd admiring glance, I had never actually bought one of their records until this shiny new compilation appeared. As I mentioned in my review of "Power, Corruption and Lies", New Order had always felt a little too enigmatic for me to risk actual money on when I was poor. This album, though, tempted me for two very practical reasons: firstly, in a rare and beautiful development, I actually had some money; and secondly, a best-of compilation promised the sort of direct route to the good stuff that a normal album, with all its inconvenient artistic ambitions, might not.

My compact disc of "The Best Of" gave many years of loyal service before quietly settling into semi-retirement when digital files made life that bit easier. Still, some records have a way of tugging at the memory, and when a modern repress on blue vinyl appeared in July 2026, it felt less like a purchase and more like a small reunion. A reunion with slightly better packaging and fewer bus fares.

We kick off with the undisputed king of the ring, “True Faith”, one of the band’s biggest hits and the song that first brought them to my attention back in 1988. The mix here is the “’94” version, given added polish by Stephen Hague, and it sounds great while remaining faithful to the original. “Bizarre Love Triangle” was a track I wasn’t as familiar with when I first heard this album, but it only took a few seconds of its FM synth bass and orchestra hits before I realised this was very much my kind of music. Subtlety, clearly, had been shown the door and asked not to come back until it had bought a synth.

From there, the album simply keeps throwing hit after hit at me, with the magnificent “Fine Time” riding hot on the heels of “1963” and “Regret”. While “Shellshock” will never be one of my favourites, it is placed in such exalted company, alongside “Run 2” and the truly astounding “Vanishing Point”, that I began to appreciate its charms despite myself. If that procession of brilliance hadn’t already knocked you sideways, “Round & Round” was waiting in the wings to finish the job with admirable efficiency.

Things become a little stickier with songs like “Ruined in a Day” and “World in Motion”, although the latter’s swagger is at least more forgivable than most attempts to put sport and synthesisers in the same room. But when a classic like “Blue Monday ’88” emerges towards the end, it becomes possible to forgive almost any transgression and simply marvel at the genius at play.
 
This album did not quite become a gateway drug, but it definitely lifted a veil. It made New Order feel less enigmatic and gave me enough confidence to explore their back catalogue over the years without getting too stressed. While albums like "Get Ready" and "Waiting for the Siren’s Call" mean I remain a little wary of New Order, this record proves that, in their pomp, they were untouchable. Perhaps communicating mainly in flashbacks is not such a terrible affliction after all, especially when the soundtrack is this good. 5/5