Simple Minds - Alive And Kicking (Virgin)

Being something of a Simple Minds zealot, I must confess that my initial reaction was one of intense disappointment. However, a couple of plays later I'm relieved to report a complete restoration of faith in Jim and the boys. "Alive And Kicking" is a regression from the searing, razor-edged bite of Sparkle In The Rain and a resurrection of the beeeeautiful music of New Gold Dream. A subtle melody is topped with lashings of that luscious voice. Play loud, and wallow. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, October 5, 1985)

Simple Minds' ability to transform the most tenuous phrases and simple vocal gestures into fully blown majestic big league rock is not a formula that can be dismissed out of hand. Forgive me then if I say I find the Minds sound utterly predictable. The immediate emotional effect is all here on a song which is really "Don't You Forget About Me" part two, but is nowhere near as catchy. Simple Minds' deliberate assimilation into American culture is boosted by the production of Iovine and Clearmountain, knob twiddlers to his majesty, Bruce Springsteen. (Max Bell, No 1, October 12, 1985)

Bit subtle, this one. At first Simple Minds' usual "glittering shards of sepulchral majesty" seem strangely absent, but after a few plays the little blighters sneak up on you from behind, revealing the song's true "grandeur". A "right little grower", as suave TV horticulturist Geoffrey Smith says on Gardeners' "very boring" World. (Vici MacDonald, Smash Hits, October 9, 1985)

Sheena Easton - Sugar Walls (EMI)

A few seconds after lowering the stylus onto Sheena, I forgot I had put the record on and tried to play another. If a record isn't made to grab the listener's attention then it should never be made. Like most records today, "Sugar Walls" conforms to that mid-Atlantic metal formula for mass-sales of filing-cabinet-down-the-liftshaft drums and lots of sparkling synths (and it's produced by Prince too). The record industry has little imagination and it is easier to homogenise music than promote individuality. (Andy Kershaw, Smash Hits, February 28, 1985)

Sade - The Sweetest Taboo (Epic)

If 1985 is the year of Madonna then, in Britain, 1984 was Sade's patch. Having reaped maximum mileage from the excellent Diamond Life set, Ms. Adu's long awaited follow up 45 sounds safe. It's a fair helping of more of the same. Not really taboo, more a love song addressed directly to its subject and wrapped around a light jazz arrangement in which all the ingredients fall into place on second or third listening. You can't expect Sade to suddenly metamorphose into Miriam Makeba (famous South African jazz singer) or someone, but her music tends to conjure up a being somewhere-else feeling. Still, what would the hairdressing profession have done without her? (Max Bell, No 1, October 12, 1985)

The habitual, luxuriant warble over a snappy backing. Doesn't appear to have much of a hook, though. Ambles along aimlessly and evidently gets lost at the crossroads. Ah well, it's easy on the ears. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, October 5, 1985)

Ian Dury - Profoundly In Love With Pandora (EMI)

Mr Dury teams up once more with his old pal, multi-instrumentalist Chaz Jankel, for a tune already familiar to those TV addicts amongst you (it's the theme from The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4, you see). Ian is at his very best here with lyrical gymnastics and a soft sweet chorus. A hit (I hope). (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)

The theme from the TV series from the book - The Secret Diaries Of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4. No doubt the TV exposure will ensure some sort of a chart position, but as a record it's a limp souvenir. As an Ian Dury song it's a liquefying embarrassment. To be theme and not heard. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

It was a bit inevitable, I suppose, that this theme to The Secret Life Of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 would surface as a single - Dury's first in ages. It's a whimsical song that fits in well with the TV series about teenage traumas, but doesn't stand up that well in its own right. Cute though ...  (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

Note: Interesting that all the reviewers mentioned the TV show, but each titled it differently. Paul King was the one who got it right.

The Tempest - Bluebelle (Magnet)

'Playing tennis with your shoes off . .'So croons Mike Sherrin of Glenn Tilbrook proteges The Tempest as gently strummed guitars waver into an innocently fragrant love song. A heart warming tale. Pleasantly refreshing harmonies and the odd spark of catchy reminiscence are all thrown in for good measure, in a tempting little ditty if ever there was one. This is The Tempest at their best. Listen and melt. (Anna Martin, No 1, October 26, 1985)

Inoffensive acoustic nicety from the Glen Tilbrook-produced Liverpool quintet, whose highest aspiration seems to be the making of pleasing pop tunes. I hereby pronounce their ambition achieved. So now what happens? (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

Spelt Like This - Contract Of The Heart (EMI)

Be warned! Judging from all the hustle and bustle surrounding them, it's obvious that SLT are EMI's new great white hope, the latest Duran. Their campaign has already included sweatshirts, badges, bars of chocolate (I kid you not) and a single that has more wrapping than an eskimo in a snowstorm. But what lies at the heart of this snowstorm is very ordinary indeed. There are a host of bands already producing this vaguely soulful mush - and Fiction Factory, for one, do it far better. Unfortunately, EMI probably have the muscle to push them into the charts. (Paul Bursche, No 1, February 16, 1985)

Pretentious, fussy packaging - it took several minutes to extricate the disc from its three sleeves - makes records more expensive than they need be. Finally inside, you'll find nothing here but optimistic froth. I'd prefer a great record please, and I don't mind if it comes in a white paper bag.  (Andy Kershaw, Smash Hits, February 28, 1985)

A-ha - Take On Me (WEA)

Morten, Pal and Mags (they're from Oslo) have come up with the clumsiest title of the week here. This song sounds like a cross between Queen and the Thompson Twins, and something tells me this trio are going to have a hit sooner or later. File alongside Spelt Like This and the Roaring Boys as The Groups Most Likely To But Don't Deserve to. (Stuart Husband, No 1, April 20, 1985)

Pal, Morten and Mags. No, not an exotic brand of dog food but three unfortunately christened Norwegian toddies, who are the driving force behind A-Ha. Must confess to a secret predilection for this on its initial release a while back. The revamped version kicks off with a hideously synthetic drum beat but develops into a multi-layered little pop gem. The winsome ones may have dreadful names but they make irresistible noises. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, October 5, 1985)

Eurythmics - Would I Lie To You (RCA)

What has happened to Eurythmics? The duo who've been responsible for some of the finest 80s pop return after a year's sabbatical (broken only by the 1984 soundtrack) with. . . er. . . Well, a pretty bad record, actually. What there is of the song (and there isn't much) is buried under a barrage of thrashing guitars, blaring trumpets and pounding drums. Meanwhile poor Annie, lost in the midst of this jumble, has to caterwaul to make herself heard before the whole top-heavy circus disappears down the hole in the middle. A disappointment. (Stuart Husband, No 1, April 20, 1985)

After the anaemic "Julia", Annie and Dave return with an energetic version of an old-fashioned soul work-out crossed with Sixties pop. Annie works up her usual vocal sweat but it passes on sheer muscle rather than on finesse. (Mike Gardner, Record Mirror, April 20, 1985)

Stan Ridgway - Camouflage (IRS)

Graceful guitar and banjo country ballad, somewhat spoiled by its cute tale of Vietnam war camaraderie. Pity that such a good tune should be wasted on the rotting heap of American war apology. This isn't 'Rambo', but it's not a song about the effects of Agent Orange, either. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, June 28, 1986)

The Rolling Stones - Harlem Shuffle (CBS)

A stormer from The "Stones" that makes you (well, me anyway) want to strut around like a demented cockerel, "clap those hands", yell wooooh, try to spin on your neck, fail miserably, etc. Will doubtless be a massive hit, have an incredibly brilliant video and make everything all right with the world for three whole minutes. (Sylvia Patterson, Smash Hits, March 12, 1986)

Unlike his more astute "Dancing In The Street" partner, Mick Jagger is still trying to act like the rebellious youth of 20 years. A pointless remake - except as a piece of total self indulgence from a bunch of privileged, ageing 'rock 'n' rollers' (man) with nothing else to do. Noisy, messy and as much fun as having the hairs in your nose pulled out one by one. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 8, 1986)

A cast of sharply-dressed cartoon characters adorns the picture sleeve of "Harlem Shuffle". The Rolling Stones have been going so long that they seem almost the same - look no further than Jagger's Spitting Image for confirmation. "Harlem Shuffle" is the first single from the Stones for ages and its confident rhythm & blues-cum-soul arrangement will doubtless send it soaring into the charts. To these ears though it sounds as polite and ordinary as Sunday lunch - and I eat in the evening. (Adrian Tierney-Jones, No 1, March 15, 1986)

Kirsty MacColl - Terry (Stiff)

Kirsty McColl wrote and originally recorded 'They Don't Know'. Kirsty doesn't pull as many faces as Tracey Ullman but she possesses a sly wit and Tracey's love of low-rent '60s rockers. 'Terry' - not the old Twinkle song - is a predictable rocker with a tongue in its head but no other distinguishing features. People don't seem to be called Terry anymore but I suppose fashion can be unkind to names as well as singers. (Mark Cooper, No 1, November 5, 1983)

Kissing The Pink - Love Lasts Forever (Magnet)

This motley crew look like students on Rag Day, acting wacky and playing the fool. They have a lot of ideas but little identity; name me a member of Kissing The Pink and I'll name you the next Derby winner. Unfortunately, too, most of their ideas other people had first - in this case Talking Heads and The Human League. Still, like, "The Last Film", this is all chorus and percussion and catchy enough to chart. When Kissing The Pink stop being so intelligent they'll become more than curiosities. (Mark Cooper, No 1, June 11, 1983)

Chas Jankel - Glad To Know You (A&M;)

A round of applause for Chas. He's number one in the American disco charts . . . and deservedly so. Chas might not have the most powerful larynx but he more than compensates with fiendishly tight dance rhythms and salty words courtesy of Ian Dury. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, April 15, 1982)

It's Immaterial - White Man's Hut (Eternal)

Clanking bony things aplenty, It's Immaterial go in for rural/tribal chic. Tambourines and infant school choirs also get a look in on this cheeky song from the eccentric Liverpool band. Deserves to be a hit. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, October 27, 1983)

Busy, industrious Scouse pop. There's nothing wrong with that, but the best music to come out of Liverpool sets its sights a little higher. (Sunie, No 1, October 15, 1983)

Silent Running - Young Hearts (Parlophone)

This band do seem to have their off days. The last time I saw them play the singer bust his zip and had to change his stage leathers for casual day-wear maroon strides. Hours later, the drummer stepped out of a first-floor window and ended up breaking his arm. And now they've released a record which sounds like either U2 or Simple Minds. At times it could almost be Jim Kerr singing. I prefer the real thing, myself. (Linda Duff, Smash Hits, July 5, 1984)

Latest in a long line of 'when we were young' ditties. When I was young, pop didn't take itself too seriously and the only people making records like this were over 30. (Andy Strickland, Record Mirror, June 30, 1984)

Stevie Nicks - Stand Back (WEA)

Fifteen years ago, there used to be thousands of women like Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. Shrouded in mystery and covered in shawls, they came on like candidates for the priesthood and were frequently to be seen disappearing into health food shops. Their type is increasingly rare in Blighty but Ms. Nicks has made a million out of the routine out in LA. Here she goes all modern with the aid of a bustling synth but winds up with an overheated engine and a cracked radiator. That voice is in pain! (Mark Cooper, No 1, July 16, 1983)

Less genteel acquaintances refer to Ms. Nicks as a wet dream come true, but cultured people don't undermine her solo career with such chat. However, this just doesn't stand up. Nowhere near as good as "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" as Stevie rasps like a cross between Maria Muldaur and Kenny Rodgers over a hum de dum record that's obviously trying to squeeze itself into the latter single's mould. (Jessi McGuire, Record Mirror, September 10, 1983)

China Crisis - Hanna Hanna (Virgin)

I used to like this lot but I'm getting weary of their whimsical words and stare-at-the-wall-and-daydream melodies. The only really good thing about this is the noise that sounds like a stick being run up the ribs of a skeleton. Shame. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, March 1, 1984)

Alien Sex Fiend - R.I.P. (Blue Crumb Truck) (Anagram)

Having seen Scarface four times, I reckon I can take as much blood and guts as the next depraved lad - but all this wailing and gnashing of teeth simply amounts to one unholy racket. A compliment, perhaps? (Paul Simper, No 1, March 17, 1984)

Thoroughly obnoxious, nasty, yucky and tacky and probably the best one this week. The production should have been even more extreme but it's definitely the sort of thing that should be played really loud so that the neighbours bang on the wall. Great fun and very exciting. (Marc Almond, Record Mirror, February 25, 1984)

Lionel Richie - Hello (Motown)

Lionel, weak with emotion, gives a right old tug to the heartstrings on this classic weepie tale of unrequited love. Your Mum's bound to make you turn it up when Top Of The Pops is on. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, March 15, 1984)

Talk Talk - Living In Another World (EMI)

I've already made a note (somewhere in the pile of papers on my desk) that "Life's What You Make It" will go down as one of my Top Ten singles of '86. Now here's another breath of fresh air from Talk Talk's excellent album The Colours Of Spring. Mark Hollis' poignant and haunting voice soars across an enchanting and rhythmical song that's driven along by harmonicas, organs and tambourines. Dead dreamy - Talk Talk are certainly living in another world at the moment - and in a class all of their own. 4/5 (Debbi Voller, No 1, March 8, 1986)

Has some rather nifty mouth-organ solos, but apart from that it's "Life's What You Make It" sped up a bit and with a wider selection of incomprehensible lyrics. (Sylvia Patterson, Smash Hits, March 12, 1986)

Can you imagine anyone growing up wanting to be a member of Talk Talk? It's not that this single - like the one before, and the one before that - is a bad song, it's not. It's accessible enough to get the right amount of radio play, but just perverse enough to guarantee a third or fourth listen will reveal an interesting 'ting' or 'ding' that you'd missed. It's just so faceless, so characterless, Talk Talk are probably the most boring band in the world. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 8, 1986)

Love And Money - Candybar Express (Mercury)

Ah, now this is more like it. Produced by Duran's Andy Taylor (well, the poor boy has to make a living somehow!), Glasgow's Love And Money have produced a versatile chunk of endearingly sharp funk. Mean, meaty and menacing - this is the stuff singles should be made of (even if it is slightly reminiscent of Hipsway's "Honeythief"). Sample this delicious concoction and become addicted to the essential. 4/5 (Anna Martin, No 1, May 10, 1986)

The Chameleons - Tears (Geffen)

So-so jangly guitar effort, sweetly backed by some layered synth and anchored around a simple drum beat. Would do good business on the preposterously named US 'Rock - Disco' circuit. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, June 28, 1986)

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Singer (Mute)

Nick Cave used to be in the Birthday Party and Barry Adamson was in Magazine, the others involved are new names to me. But who cares? The fact is, this is a damned fine effort from all concerned. Cave's lazy-lowdown-Lou Reed growl of a vocal covers a twangy acoustic guitar that keeps on coming back and everything is pretty laid back. You're at a party, it's 4am, the room is thick with cigarette smoke and. . . sorry, getting a bit carried away here. Anyway, 10 out of 10 for atmospherics. Howard Keel go hang yourself! 4/5 (Ursula Kenny, No 1, June 21, 1986)

Dominated by a deep three note guitar motif, this growling version of the old Johnny Cash song further indulges Nick's wish to leave the rock for the Rawhide. But it doesn't quite work; sure, the softly rising string background is a neat touch, but in the final analysis this is just flat. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, June 28, 1986)

Erasure - Oh L'Amour (Mute)

Borrowing a selection of Dead Or Alive and OMD backing tapes, Vince Clarke's little baby attempts a third stab in the direction of the charts. This blow however, is only a breeze. And although the hypnotizing angelic vocals trigger something in your brain on first sampling, the effect soon wears thin after a third of fourth listen. Pity really, as I rather liked the Thomas The Tank Engine sleeve. 2/5 (Anna Martin, No 1, May 10, 1986)

Vince Clarke is a lot like Mr Kipling. His pop comes nicely packaged, with lots of sweet bits to whet your appetite and just enough feeling and home-made simplicity to make it just that bit tastier than other similar convenience music. But there again, Mr Clarke does make exceedingly good records. This is no different. (Mike Gardner, Record Mirror, May 17, 1986)

Cease And Desist: The jolly sleeve was in fact quickly withdrawn due to legal issues.

Mancrab - Fish For Life (10)

Written by Tears For Fears keyboard player Ian Stanley with the help of Roland Orzabal, this is the sort of record the self-conscious Spandau Ballet would give their right arms to make - natural, uplifting lyrics set to a kind of swinging semi-funk arrangement with bags of unforced energy. More of this sort of thing please. (Ian Cranna, Smash Hits, September 10, 1986)

You can watch the video here.

Madonna - True Blue (Sire)

There are a few like myself who are not, and have never been, smitten by the charms of Madonna. We have waited for two years for her to put a foot wrong and disappear into pop's legendary dumper. But she never does. And I'm forced to admit that she's certainly not dumper-bound with this one either. It's from the LP of the same name and has Madonna singing in a fantastically coy voice about true love, over one of those thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa rhythms. And just to prove that I've always been wrong about Madonna it'll be a huge hit. Bother. (William Shaw, Smash Hits, September 24, 1986)

Blondie had "Sunday Girl", Madonna has 'True Blue' - the perfect popsicle to sing your lungs out to. And then what? "True Blue II"? A glorious retirement? Or more filling of coffers? Whatever, Madonna will now be remembered as the girl who wrote a song so sweet it melts your brain. (Paul Simper, No 1, September 20, 1986)

UB40 - Sing Our Own Song (DEP International)

Here we have the mighty UB40 getting back to their reggae roots. This bouncy little track has a playful melody with lots of sweet backing vocals but there is a moral to this story. 'Sing Our Own Song' has a strong anti-apartheid message with the chant of 'Amandla Awethu' (meaning 'power is ours') ringing out from behind the chorus. If this is a taste of what we can expect from UB40's forthcoming album then it is sure to be a biggie! 4/5 (Paige Kilponen, No 1, June 28, 1986)

Bubbling up-tempo anti-Apartheid anthem lacking the languorous, dragged out beat of their best work. I always like 'em better when they sound a bit miserable, a bit dour Midlands, but this is OK. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, June 28, 1986)

At least this time it is their own song as they've thankfully resisted the temptation to lift yet another reggae "classic". A simple, catchy and pleasing song that wears its political heart on its sleeve and manages to do it without once using the words "revolution", "constitution" or "solution".  (Lola Borg, Smash Hits, July 2, 1986)

Sting - Fortress Around Your Heart (A&M;)

Considered opinion round these parts has it that Sting is something of a genius, and he certainly shows an intelligence that's rare these days. Taken from his solo album The Dream Of The Blue Turtles - which hasn't a dud track on it - "Fortress . . " proves once again that he's the master of melody and restraint. Class and charm - what more could you ask? (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

An old turtle whose recent solitary wanderings have been jazzed down by 'musicianly' desires and grave lyrics. This out-take from the album is no exception. It's one of those songs with a surprise chorus that jumps on your back when you least want it to. For what doth it profit a man if he gains his dignity, but loses that magical touch? Many Yankee dollars, by the look of the US charts. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

The Nirvana Devils - Some Foreign Shore (Exile)

Simply, the best record ever made by Germans. Kraftwerk? Einsturzende Neubauten? Nena's 99 bouncing balloons? Phooey!! So earnest, so obscure. On this classic masterpiece of puerile punky-pop, Berlin's Nirvana Devils reveal to their fellow countrymen the true spirit and innermost secrets of real pop music: squeaky voices, sparing instrumentation, garish shirts, ridiculous shades and - most important of all - enormous earrings. If you don't buy this record, you'll probably live to a ripe old age. If you do buy this record, you might die happy. (Tom Hibbert, Smash Hits, February 14, 1985)

ZZ Top - Legs (WEA)

It's called "Legs", it has a pair of female legs on the sleeve, it has a video featuring 'a host of buxom Texas wenches', the B-side of the 7-in is called "Bad Girl", the flip of the 12-in is "Fool For Your Stockings" .. . ZZ Top are not cartoon characters. They're three ugly old men playing mid-70s style boogie that has absolutely nothing to do with their success. (Martin Townsend, No 1, February 23, 1985)

Like a life-size cartoon, ZZ Top's three caricatures look as ridiculous as a pop band can get. But somehow they get away with it. 'Legs' ain't as good as 'Sharp Dressed Man' or 'Gimme All Your Lovin", but it's good enough: a short, sharp, branded tune metered out by a group that never finds the necessity to gross-out on excess. (Dylan Jones, Record Mirror, February 23, 1985)

More irresistible raunch from the enlightened Texan stompers. However, it's a pity ZZ Top's almighty sound is so often a medium for dodgy sexist sentiments. Hang on. I'm sure there have now been more singles from Eliminator than there are tracks on the LP. No? (Andy Kershaw, Smash Hits, February 28, 1985)

Kate Bush - Cloudbusting (EMI)

Kate reminds me of those "astral" acquaintances I used to meet as a teenager on camping holidays - unusual, unpredictable but with a charm that always attracted me. Listen out for the stirring string section, an electric groove of Navajo red indian drums and some British pomp rock. I'm a fan. (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)

After the magnificent "Running Up That Hill", Kate returns with another dramatic breeze of a song. There's chugging strings, that soaring voice and a wonderfully evocative melody. Add to that a fascinating storyline video and you've got another massive hit. Music to swoon to ... (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

Despite my dislike of the blind allegiance of Kate's followers - evidenced by contributions to the rm postbag - there's no denying her ability to make thoroughly stylistic, English sexy pop, and do it very well indeed. "Cloudbusting" may not be as instantly accessible as "Running Up That Hill", but it's an infuriatingly catchy bit of stringy nonsense nonetheless. Could be a hit! (Andy Strickland, Record Mirror, October 12, 1985)

Songs From Books: The ever-literary Kate was inspired by a 1973 memoir by Peter Reich, called A Book Of Dreams. Donald Sutherland played Reich's father, Wilhelm, in the video.

Dee C Lee - See The Day (CBS)

Dee's career-by-association has been pretty well chronicled, from young gun in Wham! to Style Councillor, but the lady's always aimed for a solo career. The voice that's just helped "The Lodgers" up the charts is given full rein here on a lush ballad that could've been done 20 years back by the likes of Dusty Springfield or Pet Clark. It's a progression from the poppy soul of earlier releases, and a move that should establish her as a name in her own right. (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

Paul Weller's sidekick, currently prominent on the Style Council's "The Lodgers", swims bravely through a swelling soundtrack ballad for a non-existent Sixties movie, but ends up drowning in the strings. The cover of Weller's "The Paris Match" on the B-side is a much more suitable frame for D C's voice. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

Dee's excellent voice is showcased warmly on a song that Dusty Springfield (veteran British pop singer) or Tony Hatch (veteran British pop composer - he did the Crossroads them, fact fans) would have sinned for. A brave production and arrangement for the lady better known for her Style Council-ing. (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)

Siouxsie And The Banshees - Cities In Dust (Wonderland/Polydor)

Looks like Sioux has spent her absence from the music scene on her hols in Greece - judging by the rather tasteless picture of an ancient couple bonking on the record. Our travel correspondent says that this is the sort of thing you get on beer mats in dodgy tavernas out there along with lecherous waiters. The song itself has an unusually catchy, funky feel, but the usual lyrical concerns of the Banshees are present and correct - y' know, dirt, dust, decay, death, that kind of thing. Well, they couldn't write about beaches and suntans now could they? (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

The Banshees have returned from a sojourn in Italy inspired, apparently, by Pompeii (ancient city preserved forever by a volcanic eruption thousands of years ago). The song moves in early Simple Minds territories and, surprisingly enough, the Jim Kerr-type vocal inflections work well. Anyway, I love Siouxsie Sue. (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)

Still possessed of the finest sorceress caterwaul in the business, Siouxsie briefly gloats and croaks over the demise of a civilisation as her fellow statues stir up a scattering of underground sound effects. Meanwhile, the rest of the world wonders where the dip and drive of "Dazzle" has been buried, and waits for the next earthquake. A private record, to be bought for old times' sake, for the lupine massacre of sound on the B-side, and for the sake of a little sanity amid the surrounding musical insipidness. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

Marc Almond - Love Letter (Virgin)

A strange choice for the follow up to "Stories Of Johnny". Marc contracts a touch of Bronski-itis and flutters his eyelashes on a lullaby vocal set against a galloping electro beat. In a sprint to the finish he just about keeps up with the rhythm to bring off a minor victory for perverse synchronicity. Get the 12 inch for the full, long-distance drama. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)

He's known as "The Boss" round these parts, actually. But at the risk of getting the sack, I have to say that this one's a mite tiresome, what with a jittery synth backing that sets the teeth on edge, and a more repetitive and simplistic lyric than one expects from such an accomplished storyteller. Not one of his best. (Vici MacDonald, Smash Hits, October 9, 1985)

Subtitled "a simple message of undying devotion", this finds the willing sinner in a very romantic mood. The sleaze of old has been replaced by a lush melodrama, with Marc's vocals mixing sweetly with those of a choir. The hi-energy synth beat saves the thing from drowning in schmaltz, giving it a remarkably cheery sound after the depths of despair that the Almond of old indulged in. It must be love ... (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

Roaring Boys - Every Second Of The Day (Epic)

Epic Records set their stylists loose on a group of former Cambridge crowd-pleasers called The Models, hire a haulage firm to deliver the advance and call the conspiracy Roaring Boys. Ignore the propaganda promise that these lads are going to be massive ("They'd better be. We've spent enough on them"). Resist the alluring fringes, dreamy eyes, soft pouts and sucked-in cheeks on the sleeve photo. Be honest with yourself. Hear it and admit it . . this is an unremarkable record. (Andy Kershaw, Smash Hits, February 28, 1985)

Let's keep cynicism at bay here. Any band that's inspired so much music biz hype as Cambridge's six Roaring Boys must have something going for them. But although the band - who include Kirsty MacColl's brother Neill - are reasonable looking this debut single is simply duff. Lots of huffing and puffing and being desperately young and energetic but not a spark of wit, wisdom or plain old excitement to be found. A very roar deal. (Martin Townsend, No 1, February 23, 1985)

Reputedly signed for a six figure sum with lots of nines in it, a lot is expected from the Roaring Boys. But frankly, on this debut they tread water to the extent of almost drowning. What is so special about the Roaring Boys? We wait and see ...  (Dylan Jones, Record Mirror, February 23, 1985)

The Monochrome Set - Wallflower (Blanco Y Negro)

Bid and the rest of his motley crew try to build on the limited success they had with "Jacob's Ladder" by pouring on the '60s influence. This ends up not a million miles from The Smiths. A hit? Could be, could be. (Paul Bursche, No 1, June 1, 1985)

Quite pleasant. The track did not offend my ears, but then again it didn't make me tap my feet. Even my girlfriend Lizzie, who liked the previous single, "Jacob's Ladder", could find nothing in this track to inspire her. However, if you like The Farmers Boys etc., this is a must. (Simon O'Brien, Smash Hits, May 22, 1985)

Philip Jap - Save Us (A&M;)

In which Jap half-heartedly tries to be Bowie and Producer Trevor Horn (Any relation, Dave? - Ed.) proves that even he can make mistakes. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, May 13, 1982)

Talk Talk - Talk Talk (EMI)

They're a mite too close to Duran Duran for comfort. They share the same label and the same producer (Colin Thurston) who has given them a similarly smooth and well-sprung sound. Try again, boys. Try again, boys. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, April 15, 1982)

Will Powers - Kissing With Confidence (Island)

If this isn't a massive hit I'll eat my typewriter. It's certainly the most infectious and danceable single of the week. It's all sung by American photographer Lynn Goldsmith - even if she does sound deceptively like a man at times. It goes to show what a voice synthesizer can do for you. The song is a lecture for novices on how to be a clever kisser . . "Is your breath fresh? Do you have spinach on your teeth?" And " . . remember, you cannot get pregnant from kissing." (Debbi Voller, No 1, September 10, 1983)

The The - This Is The Day (Epic)

Imagine a Depeche Mode backing track with added accordion. Imagine one of those very English voices that sound as if they ought to be presenting Newsbeat. That's Matt Johnson. Ten years ago he would have made a tidy living serenading sentimental female persons in one of those clubs where they put candles in empty Rosé bottles. These days he has to shoot for the charts and he's yet to come up with a mustard-cutting hook line. I look forward to his album but meanwhile I'd suggest he did something about that name before it's too late. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, September 15, 1983)

Why none of The The's singles have never been hits I'll never understand. This is another beauty. Matt Johnson's deep, clear vocals and the sweet synths add up to a mixture that completely overwhelms the senses. It's dreamy and psychedelic. Buy it, God dammit! (Debbi Voller, No 1, September 10, 1983)

Intaferon - Get Out Of London (Chrysalis)

Totally chaotic, finger popping record with interesting electronics and confusing acoustic guitar coming through the left speaker unexpectedly - but there again, this record is full of little tricks like that. There's always something going on in the background that doesn't quite fit so you're never bored. (Jessi McGuire, Record Mirror, September 10, 1983)

This has the burning spirit of punk in its frantic urgent rush to get somewhere quick. It also has the stamp of a craftsman at work, so it's no surprise to find good old Martin Rushent at the helm.  (Debbi Voller, No 1, September 10, 1983)

James Ross - Slow Down (A&M;)

One man band Ross has a fair crack at Kajagoogoo land but he doesn't quite capture the correct level of banality. (Mike Gardner, Record Mirror, July 16, 1983)

ABC - All Of My Heart (Phonogram)

Ever since The Lexicon Of Love made its appearance, it's been obvious that this particular tune was its pride and joy and a natural monster hit. A stately arrangement full of elegant flourishes and studded with truly memorable detail encases Fry's courtly vocal and simply compels you to play it again and again. This record is going to number one. Not least because I have money on it. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, September 2, 1982)

Aztec Camera - Pillar To Post (Rough Trade)

Great hook, great lyrics and great production do not make a hit single when the voice is weaker than a Tony Blackburn joke. When nice Scots boys can sing, they'll have hits. (Simon Hills, Record Mirror, September 18, 1982)

Appealing song, with more than a slight debt to 60s beat music, strong in the chorus but inclined to limp a little in the verse. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, September 2, 1982)

Spandau Ballet - Instinction (Chrysalis)

Or how wizard producer Trevor Horn saved the Spans from the dumper. The band's last few singles were justifiable flops. They junked toe-tapping tunes in favour of self-conscious whimpers. But Horn has put them back on course. He's turned this track (originally on the Diamond LP) inside out and added all those magical ingredients like synthesised drum cracks and chattering percussion. The real follow-up to "Chant No. 1". (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, April 15, 1982)

Tracie - Souls On Fire (Respond)

She sounds much more confident now, as does the song. In fact, at times she reminds me of Madonna, while the song has tinges of Wham! and JoBoxers about it. A big hit if you ask me. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, March 15, 1984)

ABC - S.O.S. (Phonogram)

ABC lost a fair number of admirers with the new 'heavy' style of their Beauty Stab LP. But if they did get a little bit too raunchy at times, this lush ballad is not an offender. As ever Martin Fry's preoccupied with love and all the problems it brings, but the lyrics aren't as clever clever as they have been in the past. The apple crumble saga, for instance, is not continued. I like it. So there. (Karen Swayne, No 1, January 14, 1984)

It's always a bit sad when the best part of a record is the fade. The song is slight and Martin Fry sounds as if he'd rather be anywhere but in front of a microphone. Then after a cosy sax solo from Steve Singleton the singalong fade begins. But even with Frankie Goes To Hollywood on backing vocals, it isn't quite epic enough. Shame. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, January 5, 1984)

It really is a waste of time asking me to review this. If this type of music has any merit then it completely escapes me. They call heavy metal moronic. This makes it sound like Sibelius. (Lemmy, Record Mirror, January 14, 1984)