Virginia Astley - Love's A Lonely Place To Be (Why Fi)

A sad tale of love grown old with a watercolour vocal from Miss Astley and a pretty arrangement of classical tinge. One for Mary Hopkin lovers. (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, January 22, 1983)

A Ravishing Beauty indulges in more than a modicum of the pretty-pretties. But tinkling bells and a twinkling belle do not a substantial pop record make! (Fred Dellar, Smash Hits, February 3, 1983)

Thompson Twins - Love On Your Side (Arista)

Try as they will, The Thompsons can't quite fit through the golden door, Like "Lies", this is all intelligence and no flair. The chorus shows an indecent desire to be in the charts, the verses betray a desperate desire to remain witty and aloof. Full marks for hard work but where's the flair? (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, January 22, 1983)

Care - My Boyish Days (Drink To Me) (Arista)

Care are a combination of the talents of Paul Simpson (once of The Wild Swans) and Ian Broudie (formerly of the Original Mirrors and producer of Echo and The Bunnymen). Their name comes a little too close to The Cure for comfort and is perhaps a trifle precious. Mind you, calling a duo Tears For Fears seems to have worked and I suppose that 'Care' will do. This ditty tinkles along prettily but doesn't give the voice or the lyrics the assurance they deserve. Promising but too close to forgettable. (Mark Cooper, No 1, July 16, 1983)

The Liverpool mafia strikes again. Ex-Original Mirror person and Bunnymen and Wah! producer Ian Broudie knocks out a sultry number that goes down nicely with the lazy, hazy days of summer and a cool glass of Pimms No 1. (Mike Gardner, Record Mirror, July 16, 1983)

Good grief, is there anyone from Liverpool who's not in a band these days? Formed by ex-Wild Swan and Teardrop Explodes founder-member Paul Simpson and ex-Original Mirror Ian Broudie, they ought to have come up with a better name than Care. Mind you, it's as vapid and forgettable as this record. Disappointing. (Deborah Steels, Smash Hits, July 21, 1983)

Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Relax (ZTT)

The sound of leather boys at pleasure, Frankie's debut single takes the boystown style out of safe hands and into a hard and dangerous night. Despite the title, the boys huff and puff like crazy, making their particular disco sound like a factory. A dark and dubious record that pumps up more steam than a posse of pistons. Let it whip, Frankie. (Mark Cooper, No 1, November 5, 1983)

Naughty lyrics that will shock the powers that be at BBC. Which is a shame as this Trevor Horn-produced powerhouse dance record screams out to be heard. In the sterile, germ free world of disco this is one contagious disease which should be caught. (Mark Steels, Smash Hits, November 10, 1983)

Cindy & The Saffrons - Terry (RCA)

If Terry were still alive, perhaps he could rev up the old bike and run down those responsible for this faithful remake of Twinkle's moment of glory. Nearly 20 years later and they still manage to leave out any irony. (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, April 16, 1983)

You'll know this '60s classic; it's all about a guy called Terry who drives off in a huff on his motorbike and snuffs it, then hangs around the gates of heaven for the girl that put him there in the first place. Cindy herself is better known as Joanne Whalley, and has done much on TV, stage and screen. Sung in true '60s style, but I wonder if this song is just too familiar to storm the charts. (Debbi Voller, No 1, May 14, 1983)

Birch And Hallam - What You Say (A&M)

Two lads that sound like a firm of lawyers, by name, if not by music. Perhaps they should get a third cohort, one with a name like Jones. Then they could sound like estate agents. Birch, Hallam and Jones. The tune itself has the kind of synth line OMD once aspired to and a breathless vocal that is a little too breathless for its own good. File under 'Eager To Please'. (Mark Cooper, No 1, June 11, 1983)

Oh gawd, not another pretty duo I groan. But wait, this is different. While some of the others have limp wrists B & H have a firm handshake leading you through particularly effervescent themes and stark lyrics. Impressive debut. Buy it. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, June 18, 1983)

Chris Sievey - Camouflage (EMI)

Mr Sievey was responsible for the greatest single title of the last five years, namely "I'm In Love With The Girl From The Manchester Virgin Megastore Check-Out Desk". Now the old trickster is resorting to records that play computer games on video screens. Unfortunately he spent so much money on the game that he had to record the single in his garden shack. One for lovers of new technology everywhere. Now where did I put that electric bookmarker. . .? (Mark Cooper, No 1, June 11, 1983)

Aztec Camera - Oblivious (WEA)

Oblivious is the word - that's how everyone stayed when this single first got released earlier in the year. And it should have been a monster. A delicate monster, mind. for Roddy Frame has penned a warm, mellow gem that jangles along with that '60s feel of singalong simplicity. Definitely one of this year's sadly underestimated talents, but about to blossom! If you stay oblivious that's your misfortune. (Debbi Voller, No 1, October 29, 1983)

Second time around - it was originally released on Rough Trade - and it still sounds as sweet. Roddy Frame's tender voice and gripping acoustic guitar work make this song a prized possession in anyone's collection. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, October 27, 1983)

At last! A sign of character, Roddy Frame's writing oozes personality and his guitar playing is simply dreamy. The production makes them sound like a real group and all that's missing is that old amateur joy of heart. One day Mr Frame will find the muscular delicacy for which he's searching. Here he hasn't quite the song and he has problems with a rather offensive piece of organ playing. But he's still by far the nicest white boy on display. (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, January 22, 1983)

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)

She is the talented songwriter that wrote Tracey Ullman's last hit and so rightly deserves one in her own right. (Jools Holland and The Panel, Smash Hits, November 24, 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)

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)

Madonna - Lucky Star (Sire)

Our Lady From New York takes up astronomy for the follow-up to "Holiday". I've always thought stargazing was a nice quiet hobby, somewhere between birdwatching and trainspotting. Madonna manages to make it sound mildy naughty with much talk of 'heavenly bodies'. Her synth specialists grind away in the background with all the enthusiasm of sinners reciting 100 'Hail Marys' and. by the end of the record, Madonna sounds distinctly earthbound. Strong image, shame about the song. (Mark Cooper, No 1, March 10, 1984)

Twangy bass, shiny guitars, a pumping beat and seriously sexy vocals all go to making this a pretty jolly disco outing that sounds a bit like Shalamar. And since when has that been a bad thing? (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, March 15, 1984)

Julian Cope - The Greatness And Perfection Of Love (Mercury)

If Shaky sounds as though he's from the '50s, we all know where Julian's head must be at - the groovy '60s. Jangly guitars, shaking tambourines and bouncy drums all back his "ba ba ba"chorus and knowing, yet wistful, public school voice. A bit of a gem, this one, but sadly probably not a hit. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, March 15, 1984)

The wild man of Tamworth sounds oddly formal during this discussion of 'the greatest imperfection' that is love. Where the best Teardrop singles sounded a joyful battle charge, Cope's solo singles are distinctly muted. Let me refer you instead to his World Shut Your Mouth LP, where this melancholy melody has its place. (Mark Cooper, No 1, March 10, 1984)

Fontana Mix - Catwalk (Compact)

Interesting debut Fontana Mix throw a lot of odd shapes and angles, making for an extremely busy soundtrack. Unfortunately the vocals are flat and the melody is, how you say, lost. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, May 28, 1983)

I suspect you have to see the video to make sense of this. I think there's a story in there among the nasal vocals and the Spanish guitar but the whole affair's so carefully contrived that I ended up checking the second hand on my watch to the drum beats instead of following the plot line. (Mark Cooper, No 1, June 11, 1983)

The Freshies - Fasten Your Seatbelts (Stiff)

The good Mr. Sievey is at it again, this time doing a Yazoo by teaming up with Mancunian lady singer Barbara O'Donovan. Brilliantly and shamelessly conceived pop hit single, so well done it hardly matters that the song itself is a bit weak. (Johnny Black, Smash Hits, September 30, 1982)

Now down to a duo, the Freshies' pop vision has finally bottomed out at the level of Bucks Fizz. Where are the titles of yester-yore? Is this the man who wrote "(I Can't Get) "Bouncing Babies" By The Teardrop Explodes"? (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, September 25, 1982)

Thompson Twins - We Are Detective (Arista)

A jokey throwaway from the Twins that tangoes away from their recent slabs of dance riffs. More lies and disguises in the lyrics and the first time they've traded on their name. Another third single and a minor hit. (Mark Cooper, Record Mirror, April 16, 1983)

The Police - Wrapped Around Your Finger (A&M)

Follow The Police and learn about places like Scylla and Charybdis. As my dictionary explains, these traps are Greek mythology for the Devil and the deep blue sea. Life is no bowl of cherries as Sting has often pointed out, never better than here. Almost as mean, moody and magnifique as 'Every Breath', Sting's latest piece of bleating has me worried about the boy. If he's not watching his lover threateningly, he's trying to wrap her around his finger. Someone should tell him there are simpler forms of romance. (Mark Cooper, No 1, July 16, 1983)

Sting's mystical edge gets an airing on a track that's probably in the top 10 as we speak. It's impossible not to take your hat off to a band who, while sneered at by the press, can produce the most insidious melodies around. (Mike Gardner, Record Mirror, July 16, 1983)

Gorgeous, light and the perfect music to have playing as someone massages that coconut sun oil between the shoulder blades. What you doing on Sunday afternoon, Sting? Andy? Stewart? (Deborah Steels, Smash Hits, July 21, 1983)

Robert Marlow - The Face Of Dorian Gray (Reset Records)

Mr. Marlow is another member of the Basildon mafia, here given his first sniff of the big time on Vince Clarke's new label. The poppy synths carry Vince's trademark but the song, a brief synopsis of an Oscar Wilde novel, lacks that certain something – a strong melody. Still, a useful plot summary if you ever have to study the book. (Mark Cooper, No 1, July 16, 1983)

This is the sort of stuff I expected to hear from Vince Clarke after he left Depeche Mode, rather than the gems he produced with Alf. Pretentious words, clever clever sounds and a catchy tune make up the first release on Vince's new label and it sounds as though he played all the instruments as well (he did co-produce it). RM has got a bland voice and the song is probably a Yazoo reject. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, August 4, 1983)

Oh dear, how many things has good old Oscar's tribute to youth inspired so far? Well, here's another one and the plink plonk of the synth is about the only new ingredient. That Paris grave must be in perpetual turmoil. (Simon Tebbutt, Record Mirror, July 30, 1983)

Robert Plant - Big Log (WEA)

Even more moody and magnificent than The Police [with "Wrapped Around Your Finger"], Robert Plant's return to centre stage is something of a shocker. I was quite unable to appreciate it on first hearing as I was hiding in the corner, expecting a battery of drums to come crashing in at any moment. They never do and, once my nerves had recovered, I was able to soothe myself back into shape with this folky lament. Mr. Plant returns, a model of restraint, and he's welcome at my house for the first time in a decade. (Mark Cooper, No 1, July 16, 1983)

For the man whose voice could shatter windows in New York whilst Led Zeppelin were playing in London, this is quite a pleasant surprise. Robert's vocal is majestic and warm, the guitar work (liberally sprinkled with what sounds like bum notes) refreshing and kind of Latin, and there's a great bassline. Not trendy but highly classy. (Deborah Steels, Smash Hits, July 21, 1983)

Matthew Wilder - The Kid's American' (Epic)

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)