Depeche Mode - It's Called A Heart (Mute)

Depeche Mode have reached an interesting stage in their life. In the long term, the (relative) lack of success of "Shake The Disease" will probably be a good thing - helping the band to get away from the teeny/girly/ chart image they've been saddled with. Anyone who's heard their album will know them as a band with more depth than that, but there are some still need convincing. If anything, "It's Called A Heart" is a step back - bringing them once more into the realms of the three minute pop song they'd broken out of with the last three singles. It features godawful electronic sounds, mixed into a beautifully simple tuneful concoction. That takes skill and commitment and Depeche Mode are increasingly well furnished with both. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, September 21, 1985)

Virginia Astley - Tender (Elektra)

As the phenomenon that is the solo female singer-songwriter makes something of a comeback, Virginia makes her bid for stardom. After a spell supporting the Fun Boy Three and a solo deal on Rough Trade, Virginia now delivers her sweet lilting tunes accompanied by an equally sweet lilting vocal. A little sugary at first, but - like Cadbury's Cream Eggs - genuinely addictive. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, September 21, 1985)

Jimmy The Hoover - Bandana Street (Use It) (MCA)

If you blinked two years ago you'll have missed the rise of Jimmy The Hoover - the strange collection of individuals who meteorically shot to fame with the instantly forgettable "Tantalise" and immediately returned to the obscurity from whence they came. Their new offering can best be described as an active assault on the aural cavities, with production overriding content to deliver a wall of sound comprising some 50 voices and a hundred trumpets blowing rather violently into your ear drums. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, September 21, 1985)

See You In Vegas - Work (Red Rhino)

Deceptively pleasant little pop ditty, this. See You In Vegas are a band with a 'radical' message delivered with humour and a lot of style. The music's not bad either. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, August 20, 1983)

Howard Jones - New Song (WEA)

Candifloss synthi-pop. Producer Colin Thurston, man at the controls of Duran Duran and Kajagoogoo, spins out lots of sweetness and light. About as substantial as the fluffy pink stuff on a stick. (Lynn Hanna, No 1, August 20, 1983)

Another in the long line of pretty-boy popsters, Howard is apparently rather big in High Wycombe. This first offering is produced by the same man as Duran Duran and Kajagoogoo and will probably be MASSIVE. It's squeaky clean disco pop with lots of whoops and woos in the background. You can't fault it. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, August 20, 1983)

Missed A Sitter: Smash Hits failed to review 'New Song' which reached number 3 in the pop charts.

Nick Kamen - Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever (WEA)

I don't know about you, but I always preferred the bloke in the bath in those Levi's ads. Much less obvious than Mr Kamen - but then the charts are full of 'obvious' acts at the moment and Nick fits into this as perfectly as those dinky little boxer shorts of his. Making use of Spandau Ballet's one sax solo, it's soft disco that reminds you of a million other tacky dance greats. Pre-packaged for party time! As stylish as the man who's singing it. And take that as you will. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)

I hated his last one but I heard it so often it sort of grew on me. Here he's covered a classic song (originally done by legendary Motown soul act The Four Tops) and killed it. His voice is really dodgy. I don't think models should try and be singers. Let's face it, he's made it just 'cos he's got a pretty face. My dad's mate is a really brilliant singer and he's been trying for years to get a record contract and he can't get one. I think it's unfair. But the charts are all about novelty really ain't they? I mean, I think it's out of order that records by the EastEnders lot get to Number One. Mind you I can't talk! The Grange Hill records I sang on were bloody awful. I don't know how they got into the charts either. Makes you wonder dunnit? (Lee MacDonald, No 1, February 21, 1987)

Lone Justice - I Found Love (Geffen)

I remember interviewing Lone Justice 18 months ago and being warned that Maria McKee didn't like to be singled out - they were a real band, you see. Then all the others disappeared, and what we are left with is one squawky, potential rock superstar and a bunch of session musicians. Imagine Carmel going West Coast; this is the result. Maria McKee is a good songwriter and a charismatic personality, but the sooner she stops packaging herself like Bryan Adams in a dress the better for all of us. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)

The Nightingales - It's A Cracker (Vindaloo)

This has ribtickling, deep vocals of the sort Pete Burns has recently been toying with in that risquely provocative fashion of his. Add a jangly acoustic backing rather than a spruced and shiny electric one and you have a cracker. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

Everything But The Girl - When All's Well (Blanco Y Negro)

Disappointingly, this smacks of 'playing safe'. When Tracey and Ben can write such perfect feeling songs as "Bittersweet", why release an insubstantial and lifeless song like this? It smacks of panic by someone - a vague attempt to emulate "Each And Everyone"'s success by putting out a song as close to it as possible but with none of its free-flowing jazzy life. EBTG have new songs far better than this and hopefully we'll be seeing them soon. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

I think Tracey Thorn sounds very similar to Siouxsie Sioux on this. It's more powerful than their usual style but still a very thoughtful record and could be the song to give them their breakthrough. (Marshall O'Leary, Smash Hits, March 14, 1985)

Apparently Ben Watt is a big Glenda Jackson fan which explains why there's a picture of her on this single sleeve. In case you were wondering, film fans, the shot is taken from The Triple Echo. A film in which Glenda's bedmate is an AWOL soldier who hides in her cottage masquerading as her sister whenever anyone comes by - an idea which backfires when Oliver Reed takes a fancy to him. Good film taste aside, this record has little going for it. Unlike 'Each And Every One' and Tracey's work with Paul Weller and Working Week, it's simply unremarkable. When all's well hopefully they'll release something else . . . (Adrian Tierney-Jones, No 1, March 9, 1985)

James - Hymn From A Village (Factory)

James, currently A Group To Watch, come from Manchester and are guests of The Smiths on their nationwide tour. Morrissey has taste. "Hymn From A Village" has a simple and magical charm which comes from the fragile but determined guitar-playing, lively drumming and singer Tommy Booth's strained but human voice. Like The Smiths' early singles it's the very essence of pop, free from technological excess and cosmetic overkill. Devour it. (Adrian Tierney-Jones, No 1, March 9, 1985)

All the bands coming through at the moment seem to be of a certain mould. BEAUTY is the thing to be possessed of and if you haven't got it, fake it, and bugger the sound you're making - that can be faked too. That's why James are so refreshing. So non-visual it hurts and makes it excessively difficult to find one of those easy nouns we journalists like attaching to the front of groups' names. You know, 'funksters', 'popsters', 'long macsters'. The comparisons with Joy Division are glaringly obvious but they have a less doomy, more open hearted feel and (ouch) energy. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

The Railway Children - Brighter (Factory)

The classiest record of the week by far. From the pulsing bass to the staccato sub-'Blue Monday' drum break, from the gliding guitars to the smooth, sensual vocals, the Railway Children are almost too good to bear. They - or their producer - know the worth of space, pace and timing within a song. You've room to breathe as every bar flows warmly over you. Smoother and more refined than the previous "A Gentle Sound", the potential of this band takes my breath away. Single of the year so far. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)

The Go-Betweens - Right Here (Beggars Banquet)

A veritable lemon meringue pie of a record. Light and fluffy, but with a sharp, firm base and solid tune, it borders precariously on the twee side, only just saving itself courtesy of Grant McLennan's nasal passages, his vocals adding a certain sarcastic sneer to the proceedings. The Go-Betweens have never really got above cult status in Britain, and this isn't the one to change that situation, but any song with a lyric like "I know you're 32 but you look 55" deserves a little respect at the very least. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)

Billy Bragg - Between The Wars (Go! Discs)

A low price EP of four songs showing the man with the large nose at his most potent and lyrical. Billy 'pulls no punches', the thing beginning with "Between The Wars", an anti union-bashing song and ending on a new, slower version of "It Says Here" attacking the Tory press. You could argue that blatant political commentary alienates and ends up preaching only to the converted. Yet subtlety never works either. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

With just his trusty guitar and a swagbag of modern folk songs Spiced with the acid wit of punk, Billy Bragg has confounded all those who've said such antics had no place in 1985. Neil Kinnock's fave pop person (after Trace of course) has now released his first ever 7-inch single. It has four tracks that highlight Billy's mastery of investing simple songs with a sense of defiance and humanity. At £1.25, you can't go wrong. (Adrian Tierney-Jones, No 1, March 9, 1985)

Oh dear, I hate this man and his music. I've heard this on Whistle Test and hated it – my opinion hasn't changed. It's got the same monotonous tune all the way through and he can't sing to save his life. Why don't you just leave the music business, Billy? (Marshall O'Leary, Smash Hits, March 14, 1985)

King - Won't You Hold My Hand Now (CBS)

An obvious follow-up this. I reviewed 'Hold My Hand' first time round and although it's been fiddled with a bit it still sounds the best King single yet let out of The Tower. More raunchy than "Love And Pride", the boys use both their boots and guitars to kick ass. Of course I knew they were going to make it all along... (Paul Simper, No 1, March 16, 1985)

Though they've yet to produce a classic 45, the boys from Coventry have certainly tried their hand at just about every musical style in the book. "Love & Pride" was a ska-based Gary Glitter/Jobriath gallop, "Soul On My Boots" was Culture Club on amphetamine ... and this here disc is like a mutant Shadows gone haywire. However thin and lifeless King may appear, you can't get the damn tunes out of your head. (Dylan Jones, Record Mirror, October 20, 1984)

Ah ha - a hot property! King have finally got the success they believed themselves worthy of and Paul's become a sex symbol. Swoon! As for this, it's more forceful than "Love And Pride" - stronger where that seemed to have great gaps in the mix, more controlled, less boppy and very very professional. Re-mixed to squeaky clean perfection. I'm going to stick my neck out here... I think it might be a hit. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

It's catchy but I think the instruments drown his voice too much. Probably a hit but not as big as "Love And Pride". I do like this group and the song is good but the chorus is very boring. (Marshall O'Leary, Smash Hits, March 14, 1985)

Strawberry Switchblade - Let Her Go (WEA)

Another single from this sugary twosome. Confused vocals with much the same backing as the rather-better "Since Yesterday". Give it another go, girls. (Marshall O'Leary, Smash Hits, March 14, 1985)

Sounds like one of those groovy records they used to make in the Swinging 60s - a touch of psychedelia, some tight harmonies and a 'neat' melody. If you have to live in the past I guess the 60s are as good a time as any. And with the might of Warners behind them no doubt the Strawberries will have everyone smothering themselves in apple blossom and chewing strange substances long before summer. (Paul Simper, No 1, March 16, 1985)

Despite all the slaggings, "Since Yesterday" had a certain lilting charm. This does not, ending up as a disposable dose of fairground sweetness. Strawberry Switchblade are neither stupid nor puppets but their success lies in their ability to fill a gap in the market. Nice girls with nice tunes who boys can harbour crushes on and girls emulate. Watch out for the Strawberry Switchblade dolls you can dress yourself. In the shops any day now! (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, March 16, 1985)

The Style Council - Come To Milton Keynes (Polydor)

An offbeat and disappointing effort from Mick'n' Paul, a reliable pair whose singles have consistently satisfied even if their albums haven't. With tongues firmly in cheeks they tell the tale of a couple 'moving to a new town' in search of work but finding a situation equally as desperate as before. 'I may slash my wrists tonight,' sings Weller in the middle. I'll join you if I have to listen to this rubbish again. (Dave Ling, No 1, June 29, 1985)

Waft along with Mick and Paul as they cycle off into those beautiful sunsets that exist only in some advertising executive's mind. Drink in that light, happy beat, that sweet irony on the Weller breath, that sharp, strong production. One of the most immediately accessible tracks on the Our Favourite Shop LP and another top 10 hit for the Councillors. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, July 29, 1985)

Prefab Sprout - Faron Young (Kitchenware)

The Sprouts finally deliver a single worthy of their adulatory press. Sprightly and catchy, Paddy McAloon's pleasantly sincere vocals make you ignore just how pretty darned weird are the words he's singing. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, July 29, 1985)

The Sprouts' attention to detail is what raises them above the dross. Quite what Paddy McAloon has in mind when he chants 'you give me Faron Young, four in the morning' is open to the individual's interpretation, but somehow it doesn't seem to matter. The musical arrangement is pleasant and the bit at the end which sounds like toads singing round a campfire is a stroke of genius. (Dave Ling, No 1, June 29, 1985)

Having previously dismissed P. Sprout as flitty and too clever by half, I now find myself forced to eat my words. This is an English truck-drivin' song about having to eat Yorkie Bars in the horrific surroundings of motorway "service areas" and listening to the ghastly weepies of country crooner Faron Young on a crackling in-cab radio. At least, I think that's what it's about. Anyway, the lot of the lorry driver is not a happy one and "Faron Young" (the song not the singer), with its deft quotes from C&W banjo-pickin' and steel guitar music, is witty, charming and quite excellent. (But I still say this group has a stupid name.) (Tom Hibbert, Smash Hits, July 3, 1985)

The Armoury Show - Glory Of Love (Parlophone)

Richard Jobson has certainly progressed since his days with the Skids. You can understand at least half he's singing on this record, although he does deliver a good few heathen chants for old times, so you still feel you're among friends. Not as good as it should be, but they're getting there. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, June 29, 1985)

The Armoury Show are a powerful team (Richard Jobson and John McGeogh) so heaven only knows why this band aren't having massive hits. Their first two singles had enough fury and passion for the whole top hundred but obviously they're falling on deaf ears. Having said that though, the recorded "Glory Of Love" doesn't quite match up to their live version -a case of the wrong producer for the right song. (Debbi Voller, No 1, July 6, 1985)

Amazulu - Excitable (Island)

Amazulu have a brilliant and colourful image but so far that image has been more memorable than their music. Well hopefully that'll all change now with this energetic toe tapper of a summer single. The strength of this bouncy tropical pop song actually lies in the fact that it's so deliciously simple and repetitive. (Debbi Voller, No 1, July 6, 1985)

I must be going mad, because I was sure there were six members of Amazulu. And on this super-shiny pop reggae it sure sounds like more than one woman making all those noises. Must have been mistaken, because if there were six of them, they wouldn't show the prettiest member - the most "marketable" one - on the cover and publicity shots now, would they? No, of course not. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, July 29, 1985)

Could these reggae gals be the new Bananarama? No. Even the "rams" never came this close to sounding like a Coco Pops commerical. (Tom Hibbert, Smash Hits, July 3, 1985)

The Ramones - Bonzo Goes To Bitburg (Beggars Banquet)

Ah, they don't make records like this anymore - unless, of course, "they" are The Ramones who continue to thrash away in their leaky jeans and unhygienic sneakers as if it were still 1976. Perhaps no one bothered to tell them the news that "punk's dead" - and thank goodness for that, because this topical assault on R. Reagan's recent German blunderings reminds one that a song that sounds like it was recorded by road drills in a tub of yoghurt can still be genuinely exciting. I love this for its "blistering-chainsaw" qualities, its dumb attempts at "na-na-na" harmonies, and, most of all, for Joey Ramone's voice which sounds more like a nasty accident in a hamburger factory than ever. Joint Single Of The Fortnight. (Tom Hibbert, Smash Hits, July 3, 1985)

The lovable pin-heads return with some more typical Ramones thrash. Untouched completely by anything that has happened in the world for the past 10 years, the Ramones go their own sweet way re-recording the same song time after time but still sounding fresh and happy. Old friends, dear friends, what a sad and trivial place the world would be without them. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, June 29, 1985)