If your name looks like a worm and is pronounced like the sound of someone being a little unwell ("freur"), you should have no chance, but this is a suede-skinned, juicy peach of a record. A blissfully romantic song, graced by an arresting vocal and an arrangement that hugs like loving arms at a windy bus-stop. The best electro-ballad since "Vienna". (
Mark Steels, Smash Hits, June 9, 1983)
Those silly sods from Splottland are back. once more the sub-Sylvian drone erodes my little brain cells. (
Robin Smith, Record Mirror, June 18, 1983)
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