The third brilliant single from the brilliant Word Up LP. Larry Blackmon, the thinking man's codpiece, croons merrily along while the other 300 members of Cameo chant merrily away behind him. Larry refuses to be put off, however, and fights his way through to yet another huge hit. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, March 11, 1987)
These geezers are definitely riding on the crest of a wave at the moment and this is anuwer brilliant single - they just wanna make you get onto the dance floor and strut your funky stuff. It's more like 'Candy' than Word Up' but it's got 'Cameo' stamped all over it. No party is complete without a dose of Larry Blackman's codpiece, you know what I mean? (Gary Crowley, No 1, April 25, 1987)
If this type of woozy, late-night soul ballad is basically about making lurve, then this is positively SAFE SEX. Safe, (which is fine) as in very sensitive, very produced, very doleful ... but MUSHY. It drifts away in a cloud of gentle, dreamy bleu-urgh which at less than Gauloise length is all over a bit quickly. The presence on the B-side of Paul mooning over a string quartet ("Francoise") adds to the LP's impression that as a POP group, the Smooch Council have (for the moment) come and gone. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, March 7, 1987)
One of the better tracks from the feeble Cost Of Loving LP, "Waiting" shows Paul Weller to be a lot happier at singing romantic ballads than grunting his way through all that uptempo "soul" stuff he's become so fond of in recent years. The back sleeve contains yet more ramblings from "The Cappucino Kid", this time a Sherlock Holmes-style short story about "the case of the twitching farmer". Weller is cast as Holmes with Mick "Morten" Talbot taking the role of the bumbling Dr Watson. How apt. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, March 11, 1987)
A very ordinary effort from The Pretenders. As always, there's a pleasant tune and Chrissie Hynde wrings maximum effect out of each syllable but that's about it. Oh, there's also a good corny bit near the end when she sings "like walking on stage" and suddenly all this cheering comes bursting out of the speakers. That aside, absolutely average. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, March 11, 1987)
Nothing could surpass Shirley Bassey's "Goldfinger", and since then there's been a number of dire themes accompanying James Bond films. Mort and the boys belt out something that might have stood a better chance as the theme for a gardening programme. The world tour seems to have well-knackered them. Licensed to thrill? I think not. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, June 27, 1987)
Following in the footsteps of Shirley Bassey, Paul "Fab Macca Wacky Thumbs Aloft" McCartney, Duran Duran and little Sheena Easton, our Nordic foragers come to tackle the James Bond Movie Theme - that's the bit they play over chose dated silhouettes of girlies with not very many clothes on and blokes in suits with great big pistols. Unfortunately, James Bond films aren't really much cop and neither, usually, are these James Bond Movie Theme thingies. And this particular example is no exception. Oh, it's unmistakably A-ha: Morten's voice starts out smoky and sneery and then goes into a piping falsetto at the first available opportunity as per usual and there's piles of "dramatic" "tension" and everything. But is there a proper tune? No. Can you twist to it? No you jolly well cannot. In fact, it's all fearfully Duran Duran before they went good. (Tom Hibbert, Smash Hits, June 17, 1987)
The Croydon crooner appears to have been listening to one too many Julian Cope records. Lacking much of the Captain's former outrage and wackiness, "Revolution Now" is about as radical as Bon Jovi's haircuts. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, June 27, 1987)
Rich in charisma and melody, this is what you might call a 'nice pop song'. Indeed, after searching for that elusive 'hit' formula, Barry Flynn (alias Bonk and The Chant Of Barry Flynn - remember the excellent, if under-rated 'Smile And The Kiss'?) seems to have finally hit upon that special magic. . . Simple yet swirling, this is enjoyably addictive. 4/5 (Anna Martin, No 1, August 23, 1986)
Oh dear. This is one of those jolly little records that breakfast TV will be featuring very soon on its 'send-us-your-favourite-wedding-snaps' slot. Something like this gets released at this time every year when people are coming back from their hols all tanned and relaxed and feeling lovey dovey. I fear this one will run and run. 3/5 (Pat Thomas, No 1, August 16, 1986)
Firstly, can I say that this review is in no way influenced by the death threats I received after reviewing Sammy's LP recently. OK, on with the review. Oh yeah, great. It doesn't sound a bit like Pinky and Perky meets Shakin' Stevens and don't you just love people who keep their talent up their T-shirts? Yeah, of course you do, don't we all? There, will that be OK? (Andy Strickland, Record Mirror, August 30, 1986)
Lamentable. Sam Fox wearing lace gloves, on a motorbike, singing a sort of naffo naffo "Crazy Little Thing Called Love". Perhaps the Frankie idea of canines on Kawasakis singing "Rage Hard" isn't so ludicrous after all. (Paul Simper, No 1, August 30, 1986)
A Sam Fox record without (brackets in the title)! I've always wanted to review one of her records, shame it had to be this one. After the brilliant heavy rock piss-take that was "Do Ya Do Ya Do Ya", this one falls a title flat (Are we talking about the same Sam Fox? - Ed). A standard country rockin' affair which leaves the listener in no doubt that whatever attributes Ms Fox might possess, a singing voice isn't one of them. (Pat Thomas, No 1, September 6, 1986)
Samantha, dear, dearest, sweetums. There is only one Shakin' Stevens and it is not you. Your attempt to try a spot of rock'n'roll here is little short of an absolute disgrace. Your voice is unpleasantly squeaky, and posing as a Bonnie Tyler motorcycle vixen on the record sleeve is not going to make things any better. I never ever want to hear this record again. (William Shaw, Smash Hits, September 24, 1986)
Scotland's Alone Again Or recently guested on tour with The Associates. They must have raised a few eyebrows with their hard-edged funk. Their bassist is obviously a big fan of Level 42's Mark King, but unlike most bands of their ilk, Alone Again Or have the knack of writing material which holds the listener's attention to the end. That said, it's unlikely to get a second spin on my turntable. (Dave Ling, No 1, April 6, 1985)
If you go out with some one called Laura and it's her birthday then buy this for her. If your girlfriend isn't called Laura then don't. As with all his records it's well produced, well played and will go into the charts (and on Top Of The Pops). So If you like Nick, don't listen to me. (Simon O'Brien, Smash Hits, May 22, 1985)
Guitars, bass and vocals all merge together to make a pleasant sort of sound, and as usual, Nick has no trouble whatsoever in picking out a tune. "Laura" is a departure from his recent, funkier efforts (like "Warning Sign"). Its also one of his best. Sold in a package with some of the best Haircut tracks this is unmissable. May his wackiness remain forever untarnished... (Paul Bursche, No 1, June 1, 1985)
The guitar reminds me of Paul McCartney's version of the Crossroads theme. It's a nice pop song. It's Radio One material. If the weather's nice, I'm outside and hear it, it would be good. (Leee John [Imagination], Record Mirror, June 8, 1985)
'If you love something, let it go free If it doesn't come back, hunt it down and kill it.' (Quote on T-shirt of some hip NY dude). So, Sting's first solo venture does indeed have that promised, laid-back, jazzy feel that he's been sprouting on about recently. The Police sound was always sparse, almost empty, but this is hectic, much busier. It won't grab you straightaway, but take the time and you'll agree the long wait was worth it. (Paul Bursche, No 1, June 1, 1985)
Sting's first solo single casts him in his usual tough-but-sensitive role, but takes him an interesting step away from the very distinctive Police sound, in spite of his characteristic voice. Not so instantly catchy or poppy as most Police singles, he's gone for a deliberately 'harder' feel, with lots of bass, drums and girl backing singers. Very grown up, and - gasp! - not necessarily a hit. (Maureen Rice, Smash Hits, June 5, 1985)
It sounds like I've heard it before. It reminds me of early Doobie Brothers or Average White Band. If a black guy had done it, it wouldn't do anything. I've got loads of albums with people who've done things like this. It doesn't bowl me over. (Leee John [Imagination], Record Mirror, June 8, 1985)
Shriekback have been knocking around on the periphery of rock for a good few years without achieving the success their talent deserves. They're interesting without being pretentious or obscure, and some of their rhythms are fab. Despite the gloomy name and dark lyrics "Nemesis" is fiercely cheerful. A dark comedy with a real dance beat. (Paul Bursche, No 1, June 1, 1985)
A very raucous record. Very hard to define this one - they don't quite sound like anything. It's sort of a footstomper with lyrics all about cannibals and the dead. Very jolly! (Simon O'Brien, Smash Hits, May 22, 1985)
The aptly-named Who Cares? are yet another Band Aid-style collective of almost-popstars with social consciences. The aim behind this one, however, is to persuade the BBC not to axe the Doctor Who series. Subversive, huh? All profits go to Cancer Relief. And the record? Suffice to say that the brain behind it should be given a lobotomy. (Dave Ling, No 1, April 6, 1985)
Jakko looks like a rather unattractive showroom dummy, so it's something of a surprise to find that this record is not a series of video games put to music but in fact a quite likeable little pop song. A bit Hall and Oates, a bit Kershaw and Jones, this is this week's winner of the quiet man of pop award. (Paul Simper, No 1, March 17, 1984)
This Glasgow quartet bear the dubious distinction of more appearances on The Tube than any other band in living memory. They will, however, need more than this scratchy white "funk" to clock up as many on Top Of The Pops. The re-mixing by Francois Kervorkian (a New York DJ responsible, among other things, for the brill re-working of Yazoo's "Situation") helps, but not enough. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, January 20, 1983)
More months than it seems possible after the initial succulent promise of 'Here Comes A Surprise' they've finally delivered: at last, harder Brit dancephunk that puts the tongue in the cheek. the grin in grind. the bum in bump, goes against the grain and the groin. Scratch by scratch it's minimal but satisfying and hurts in all the right places They understand how to get physical. The best dance record of the year until the next Tone 12 incher. (Betty Page, Record Mirror, January 15, 1983)
If The Velvet Underground had ever made sweet, trite pop songs then this would have been one of them. It's ever so clever with neat little words and so on, but even the fact that the incredibly hip Strawberry Switchblade sing on it doesn't prevent it from being useless. Short and shallow. (Paul Bursche, No 1, October 22, 1983)
Vinyl Gold: Currently the single goes for about sixty quid ($75) online.
Yet another desert island bunch of cutesies. Five goofy guys doing their best to look like Nick Heyward. Sounds like a cheapo rip off of something else to me, me hearties. Go and wrestle with an octopus. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, September 11, 1982)
A rather natty pack of two 7-inch singles, featuring two sides recorded live in Gdansk (bless you). I was expecting not to like this but it just goes to show how wrong you can be. It reminds me of a cross between Velvet Underground and Gary Glitter and I like them both. Bargain of the fortnight. Make these men stars. (Martyn Ware [Heaven 17], Smash Hits, January 19, 1984)
Spear Of Destiny are such a great band...I don't think this is the single they should have chosen. (Steve Strange, Record Mirror, January 21, 1984)
Thirty seconds into this I thought Is it was Echo & The Bunnymen's B-side and then a voice sounding like Terry Hall came on. "It's Terry Hall," I shouted to Glenn [Gregory], Sarah and Karen. "It can't be," they said. But looking at the cover, it is. For the next minute of the song we were totally riveted. However by the end the rivets had fallen out. I hope it's a hit because I really like them and I like Terry Hall because he never smiles. (Martyn Ware [Heaven 17], Smash Hits, January 19, 1984)
Terry Hall has obviously been spending his time since The Fun Boy Three split productively. He's managed to find a couple of guys whose expressions are as deadpan and morose as his. He's also brought out a brilliant record. Although never a barrel of laughs, Terry Hall's work is rarely less than excellent and this is no exception. The distinctive vocals and melancholy tune on first hearing make this sound similar to FB3, but there's more emphasis on mood, less on rhythm. His view of the world is as jaded and cynical as ever, but it's good to have him back. (Karen Swayne, No 1, January 14, 1984)
Terry's voice is so easily recognizable that you immediately think of Fun Boy Three - but don't be misled, it's very different, interesting and new. It's hard to say if this will be a hit, but is that what he's aiming for? I hope it does well. (Steve Strange, Record Mirror, January 21, 1984)
Dave 'n' Annie just can't put a foot wrong. They release a happy calypso track in bleak mid-winter and watch it go Top Ten. Now they're back to the more familiar moody style that they do so brilliantly. The gorgeous slow melody is the ideal vehicle for Ms Lennox's effortlessly pure voice. It's mournful, but never depressing - add to their combined talents the string section of the British Philharmonic Orchestra and you've got the week's classiest single. (Karen Swayne, No 1, January 14, 1984)
If Eurythmics think they're making a run-of-the-mill record, they don't panic. They simply add 'the squint factor'. It turns an everyday event into a Royal Variety Performance. The secret of 'squint' lies in dodging your expectations. When you're waiting for a smart sheen, you get a tinny glitter. Just like that African guitar twang on "Right By Your Side". On this one it's the strings that add the seasoning. They scrape and scamper behind the melody, nudging Annie's wonderful vocal along. Like all Eurythmics' songs, it takes several plays to sink in but when it takes hold, you'll love the feeling. Single Of The Fortnight. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, January 5, 1984)
As usual, very classy. I liked 'em when they were the Tourists and I like 'em now. Went to see 'em at the Odeon. I used to prefer the mini-skirt to the Oxford bags mind you, but that just shows you what a hidebound philistine old reactionary I am. (Lemmy [Motorhead], Record Mirror, January 14, 1984)
I hate to be rude about him 'cos he was so sweet about us in one of his interviews, but this is awful. "Break My Stride" was a really good pop song, this is a really bad pop song, and the title is so bad. Horrid horrid horrid. Very sorry Matthew, nothing personal, you understand! (Roy Hay [Culture Club], Record Mirror, March 17, 1984)
No kidding. Looking like that, I'd never have guessed. Matthew seems to have gained in confidence since "Break My Stride". Nowadays he enters your living room with all the subtlety of a Sherman Tank. Lots of synth fanfares, handclapping and even the obligatory sax solo can't disguise the fact that our Matthew is a bit of a bully. (Mark Cooper, No 1, March 10, 1984)
Here is the opportunity for Mike Read to prove he's quite a liberal sort of guy after all. "He gives birth to swimming horses," sings Siouxsie, and you don't have to be too imaginative to realise we're talking about Frankie's little come hither. Musically this is a much lighter touch for the Banshees. None of those psychedelic guitars - just a simple, lilting refrain. So go on, Mike, give it a go! (Paul Simper, No 1, March 17, 1984)
I hope this grows on me because I don't think much of it up to now. It's got a sort of staccato piano rhythm backing Siouxsie's powerfully gliding voice and it's all punctuated by a scratchy echoey guitar, much like the one on "Israel". I suppose it fits in well on the new album, but by itself I think it's one of their weakest singles yet. And for Heaven's sake don't ask me what "he gives birth to swimming horses" means. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, March 15, 1984)
When it first came on I thought - Siouxsie and the Banshees, piano? Nah, it can't be. But it was. Haven't got much to say about this one. They're probably the sort of band that beat you up if you slag them off! (Roy Hay [Culture Club], Record Mirror, March 17, 1984)
'Take my hand and we will be in wonderland' sings Stuart Adamson in booming, butch tones. This is Big Country's answer to the film Gone With The Wind - bags of romance, riding off into deep red sunsets and never letting on how upset you really are. It needs to be played at great volume to capture the sound and the sweep. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, January 5, 1984)
The band who put OK into rock, or just another guitar group? Vital questions for some people, meaningless to others. But however you feel about them, Stuart Adamson and co. aren't about to abandon their axes now they've made them respectable. 'Wonderland' is archetypal Big Country - broad, sweeping and majestic - and proves once again that they can make rock sound fresh. There's less of a Celtic feel too, so I promise not to mention bagpipes (oops). (Karen Swayne, No 1, January 14, 1984)
Very good. I like them. Nice time signature. Jolly clever use of fuzz tone oboe. They seem to be a good, consistent, useful band. Brian (Robbo) likes them. Chorus of "see you, see me," etc. (Lemmy [Motorhead], Record Mirror, January 14, 1984)
I love The Hooses! They're Britain's Brightest Pop Group and this is their greatest blustering pop wheeze since "Happy Hour" except it's even better. This one's something to do with God not being very chuffed with a farmer for growing parsnips in his gumboot. No it's not, it's about something far more significant (though I haven't quite worked out what yet) and it sounds exactly like something else (though I haven't quite worked out what yet. Probably another Hooses song. Oh well...) This single proves - once and for all! - that The Housemartins have wit, intelligence, brevity, humour and the sparkliest, nippy pop tunes ever created. PS. And Stan is extremely good-looking in my "opinion". A bit. (Sylvia Patterson, Smash Hits, August 26, 1987)
Less overtly whimsical than "Five Bonk Like Crazy In Dorset", The Housemartins are in danger of trivialising the very thing that initially won them respect. Housemartins records are like toffee apples: short, sweet and ultimately sickly. (Chris Twomey, Record Mirror, August 29, 1987)
A beeeautiful, lush ballad oozing conviction, character and not a trace of Jennifer Rush-like sickliness. Margo Buchanan is clearly a woman with a story (childhood in care, heroin, jail), not to mention a husky voice tailor-made to melt hardened hearts. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, January 10, 1987)
If fame and fortune smile on the deserving, Paul Young is headed for dizzy heights. Here's
a voice to shame even good singers like [Boy] George and Alf, while those [Spandau] Ballet boys aren't even in the same league. Truly gorgeous white-boy soul, and a cover version Marvin Gaye would be proud of. Move over, Tracie, you're behind me in the queue . . . (Maureen Rice, No 1, June 4, 1983)
The best British white soul singer I've ever heard. The power and emotion in his voice makes me feel so sure! The song is a traditional blues/soul melody in '60s style but the instrumentation sounds a lot like Japan. A duet with Alf should come soon. (Gary Kemp [Spandau Ballet], Smash Hits,May 26, 1983)
The story so far ... In the process of avoiding the lecherous advances of Tracie, Paul (27) dashes into the studio to polish off a single. Unfortunately dodgy production and arrangement smother his ooh so soulful voice. Will Paul find the tune he so desperately needs? Will Tracie find the boy she longs for? Folks, keep those eyes posted for 'Young Love' magazine. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, May 26, 1983)
Second time out for this snappy little tune by those swinging Scots, whose vocalist Sharon certainly knows how to belt out those songs with some feeling. Passionate vocals and a light, breezy, summery sound of twinkling guitars make this a catchy single that shows definite signs of promise. 3/5 (Anna Martin, No 1, August 23, 1986)
A re-recorded version of the bond's first single, it shows the Fruits have mastered the mechanics of good pop music. Sharon Dunleavy has a magnificent, belting voice, but it's only now that she's learning to bring out the more subtle shades. They deserve some success with this. (Stuart Bailie, Record Mirror, August 23, 1986)
Already receiving a fair amount of radio airplay, this sweet, inevitably catchy, single has some rather sparkling moments. One of them being the gentle tempo and impressively arranged instrumentation. The chorus by comparison, is a bit watery, but mixed together, the brother and sister team seem to have a notable debut on their hands. 3/5 (Anna Martin, No 1, August 23, 1986)
The resurrection of the boy/girl formula. Where Dollar were lampooned as wet, very tacky and occasionally quite kitsch, these two are touted as 'enigmatic'. The winsome sister and bro collaborate on an airy-fairy coo, the very epitome of niceness. In close proximity to neutral on the love/hate scale. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, August 16, 1986)
Rose: Got to be the Single Of The Fortnight for me. Great vocals, great guitar, it's a great pop record with tinges of country & western. It makes me really happy - I just wish the charts were full of songs like this. Jill: I don't think this is the best version I've heard of this song, but I like it anyway. The cover is great - a highland cow in a purple loch! (Jill Bryson & Rose McDowell [Strawberry Switchblade], Smash Hits, March 28, 1985)
Yes, your usual tired old political commentary. Everybody's entitled to their own view of course, but while the charts stay carefree and cute, this won't stand a chance. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, October 29, 1983)
With a tour supporting Nik Kershaw already under their collective belts and a sleeve designed by No.1 reader Beverly Hollanders, the future looks good for Scary Thieves. Their sound is rich and textured, but somehow the song doesn't seem right. Something a little more uptempo next time, maybe? (Dave Ling, No 1, April 6, 1985)
Soft, mournful ballad that harkens back to a slower Fun Boy Three's 'Tunnel Of Love'. It takes a few listens to get used to with flamenco beat here, guitar solo bordering on a wet HM there. OK. but Terry Hall's past record demands much more than this. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, April 6, 1985)
Rose: This sounds like it's been recorded in the fifth dimension. Jill: Groovy! Rose: And as for the line, "castles in the air, a beatnik love affair" - what a topper! (Jill Bryson & Rose McDowell [Strawberry Switchblade], Smash Hits, March 28, 1985)
Bouncy is the word! On first hearing, this record sounds almost too cheerful and infectious for its own good. Still, it's pointless to resist, and once you've counted the record's blessings you realise it could be a big hit. Vocalist Jim McNulty has such a sweet voice that you could mistake his gender. Sugar Sugar are one lump or two ahead of current commercial contenders. (Debbi Voller, No 1, April 13, 1985)
The Sprout's Paddy McAloon has a knack of writing really intriguing lyrics and then setting them to strange, almost awkward melodies This one's got puns aplenty, an echoey, haunting tune crafted with the help of Phil Thornalley and well deserves to be a hit. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, November 22, 1984)
Previous to this, I'd always envisaged Paddy McAloon and company to be
one of those depressing vegetarian long mac brigade bands that I despise
so much. It came as a great relief to discover that they produce the
kind of melodic pop music that most bands can only aspire to - a kind of 10 c.c. meets Spandau Ballet. Must get the office veggies to lend me
their old Sprouts. (Dave Ling, No 1, October 27, 1984)
Being someone with a liking for sensitive artists with meaningful lyrics and guitars, I think I'm supposed to like Prefab Sprout. Hmmm. Pleasant tale of woe, but with all these people rolling about in ecstacy over them I expected the Earth to move. Not a wobble. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, April 6, 1985)
"When Love Breaks Down" is a moody and haunting masterpiece which meanders along on gentle ripples of acoustic guitar and melodic keyboards. (Dave Ling, No 1, April 6, 1985)
The Sprouts are very odd indeed. They look really plain and wear things like string vests, come from Newcastle, call their LP Steve McQueen - and write brilliant songs about Mexico and love. This is acutely observed, intelligently written, quite sad but kind of, you know, uplifting, and sounds a bit like Joe Jackson on a good day. A cracker. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, April 11, 1985)
Seductive as a sweet, soft focus kiss - quality sounds, arrangement and production. A gorgeous record. Make this one big. A friend. (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)
Mr James is a funk person who dresses like a Heavy Metalleer. This thumps along fairly monotonously while Ricky decides to pursue a member of the opposite sex. Whoever the young lady unfortunate enough to be the object of his infections is, I for one hope she gets away. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, September 16, 1982)
If you're proud to be British you'll forget this so-called "star" who means as much here as a soggy chip...and 'Hard To Get' has as much impact. Weak voice, weak song and pathetic image, leave him to the Yanks. (Simon Hills, Record Mirror, September 18, 1982)
I've already heard this on the radio and I confess to liking it. Nobody else I've talked to likes it, however. It may be a bit too chirpy for some people but the more I hear the more I like it. I believe she comes from New York. (Martyn Ware [Heaven 17], Smash Hits, January 19, 1984)
Apart from showing a bit of leg on the cover, Cyndi Lauper's talent seems to rest heavily on her ability to swallow large amounts of helium. Cyndi apparently used to sing with a band called Blue Angel in New York's Greenwich Village and is being touted by many as the American Tracey Ullman. This song's certainly as squeaky and squawky as our Trace and I'm assured there's an hysterical video to match. (Paul Simper, No 1, January 7, 1984)
Showing vast a mounts of leg on the front cover - I think she's got more leg than I've got body actually. An Interesting record, a bit different. (David Grant [Imagination], Record Mirror, January 7, 1984)
When a group has stamped its sound and style so thoroughly on a year as Frankie did on 1984, there can be a problem moving on. A short time later the same style and sound that took you to the top can sound dated. The Escape Act: where Frankie try to become a long-term chart-topping group, a Duran Duran. At first this appeared a strange way of attempting that feat. Releasing a fourth single off the album looked like going back rather than forwards. But it now seems to me that 'Welcome' is in fact saying goodbye, heralding the end of this particular Frankie type of song. On the B-side may lie the future. "Happy Hi" sees Frankie in a new mood. Quirky, whimsical, it is genuinely different. On the evidence of it I'll put my head on the chopping block to predict that Frankie won't be a one year wonder after all. Play Frankie, play on. (Paul Bursche, No 1, March 23, 1985)
It doesn't quite fit together. The presentation, the sleeve notes, neither square with the group their audience. The record, always a fine album track, is a bloated self-important grand daddy of a single, more to do with the self-indulgence of early Seventies types than the vibrant, exciting sensational scam that Frankie's sales and Frankie's marketing people tell us they are. It is in fact a beautifully executed piece of pomp and that has no part in the past, present or future as the full colour poster of this review might say. Disappointing. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, March 23, 1985)
Jill: Everybody's heard this song lots of times already. Rose: And I like the album version better anyway. I do think it's about time they did something new - you can only stretch a song so far, you know. Jill: I do like "Happy Hi!" on the B-side - Frankie go electrobop. (Jill Bryson & Rose McDowell [Strawberry Switchblade], Smash Hits, March 28, 1985)
Rather distant terrace chorus with brass band on football picture disc featuring a constipated-looking bulldog. (Michael Pilgrim, Record Mirror, May 24, 1986)
After their calypso outing on the "Wings Of A Dove", this is more typical Madness. The song trundles along merrily, carried by a jaunty pub piano that gives the song a slightly off-beat, lighthearted feel. There's also a touch of a Beatles-ish string section thrown in for good measure. A belter. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, October 27, 1983)
It's raining nuttiness again. This is a shade more traditional than some of their previous works, boasting some particularly plaintive vocals and a neat shuffling back-up. This looks set to thunder up the charts to floods of appaws. but that's quite enough of that.* (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, October 29, 1983)
* Lots of cat jokes from Robin Smith this particularly week. See also "The Love Cats".
Ooh look. Here's another one. Gardner and Smith break into a tuneless chorus of Cat Stevens' "Matthew And Son" - and it does sound like it. (Simon Hills, Record Mirror, September 18, 1982)
It's only a matter of time before this tuneful electro-duo have a hit. This may not be the one, but it does grow on you and the occasional rapid-fire brass riff pushes it along nicely. (Johnny Black, Smash Hits, September 30, 1982)
Sentimental, moi? Well just a touch. I'd love to see this talented pair do well, they've got stunningly rich, emotive vocal chords displayed to the full in this dramatic, swelling ballad, but I fear it may be a bit overwhelming in the lip-quivering dept and lacks the magnetism of the last disc. Full marks, however, for the classy Ultravox-ian embossed sleeve. (Betty Page, Record Mirror, January 15, 1983)
For all their talk about "feelings" and "emotions", this pair are too bound up in the great '60s songs that influenced them to communicate anything more than a sense of vague nostalgia. Twenty years ago, this kind of clipped, sombre vocal and cinematic string production might've jerked a tear. These days, it just sounds pompous. (Dave Rimmer, Smash Hits, January 20, 1983)
Perhaps it's because Midge Ure was brought up in a Glasgow tenement that he feels compelled to write such pompous music. Cue dry ice and huge banks of lights for this mass of swirling synthesizers wrapping pure commercial pop. Beatles men George Martin and Geoff Emerick produced this to make it sound like the pop equivalent of heavy metal's Rush. (Simon Hills, Record Mirror, September 18, 1982)
I feel I should like Ultravox but, like so much of their material, this is medium-paced with mediocre meaningless lyrics set to inconsequential standardised electronics. It starts, it goes on a bit, it fades out. Nothing happens. Maybe it will have a great video, though. (Johnny Black, Smash Hits, September 30, 1982)
Since Kate Bush has gone off to play with a didgeridoo, there's perhaps a space for breathless lisping little girl lost vocals. Although she's an old trouper, Julia can carry it off quite nicely and this just might make it, as all the other gals search for cover versions. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, September 11, 1982)
Unfortunately, the band didn't drown in Berlin [referencing an earlier hit single] and resurface again with what amounts to sub-Banshees drivel. Big in their home town of Eastbourne where the three per cent population under 65 take the Mobiles and Christmas very seriously. (Simon Hills, Record Mirror, November 20, 1982)
After making two of this year's best singles, this release smacks of sheer commercial greed on the part of the record company. "Synchronicity II" is a decent enough track on the album Synchronicity, so why wasn't it left there? Still I can't wait to see the video on Top Of The Pops. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, October 27, 1983)
Those diamante collars sparkle again. Sleek and smooth as an old tom after a two week course of cod liver oil capsules and the fastest track from thee mega-selling album. The Police know the business inside out but they never sit complacently on the fence. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, October 29, 1983)
Strangely jumbled and rambling choice for a single - this isn't the kind of song you could commit to memory in one or two easy listenings. But who am I to criticise the band that conquered a world of Sting-struck teenagers and musical intellectuals alike? Who am I to suggest that this track should have been content to remain on the album in favour of something more accessible? (Debbi Voller, No 1, October 29, 1983)
