Sheena Easton - Telefone (Long Distance Love Affair) (EMI)

Sheena ought to get together with Kenny Rodgers for another heartbreak session in his log cabin. She isn't quite as soppy as him, to give her her due, but it's an ordinary sort of song, and sounds like it was written by a computer. It'll probably do well with people who are pining and whining over faded holiday romances. (Jessi McGuire, Record Mirror, September 10, 1983)

I used to be a sucker for a good telephone song but the magic is gone. I've had enough of pop stars trying to get us to believe that they sit up all night waiting for the thing to ring when eny fule knos they're far too busy having their pictures taken at the Camden Palace. What we need is an injection of realism. I'm working on a few numbers. One's called "'I've Just Had My Bill For The First Quarter And I'm Sure There's Been A Mistake". It's off a concept album called "Why Do Trimphones Always Slide Off The Table?" I've got high hopes for the whole project. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, September 15, 1983)

Kajagoogoo - Big Apple (EMI)

This sounds fantastic! But then it would do up against the last ghastly offering, wouldn't it? I thought the whole point of sacking Limahl from the group was so that they could develop musically, but it has to be said this is the same predictable pap - and Nick Beggs' voice lacks the life of Limahl's. With Limahl bringing his solo single out soon, this is surely going to develop into the survival of the prettiest! (Debbi Voller, No 1, September 10, 1983)

Here come the new Limahl-less 'goos shaking off their teeny image in style. Minus main heartthrob, they've got harder and funkier, and Nick Beggs slips easily into the front-man slot as a grinning peroxide rival for Paula Yates. The sound is still distinctively Kajagoogoo, but the new hard determination is there, hot and funky and sweltering in the New York heat. Life without Limahl won't be too hard after all... (Jessi McGuire, Record Mirror, September 10, 1983)

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)

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)