Erasure - It Doesn't Have To Be (Mute)

"Sometimes" finally put Vince Clarke back on the map he fell off when Yazoo split, mainly because it sounded like Yazoo! So long as Andy Bell sings, and sounds uncannily like Alison Moyet, as in "It Doesn't Have To Be", the problem will remain. On the other hand, this song is a grand Erasure offering, and as long at it's this good, Erasure aren't going to be rubbed out in a hurry! (John Aizlewood, No 1, February 28, 1987)

Andy Bell may look like one of those cuddly teddy bears that go 'eek' when you press them in the stomach, but this is a little too complex - and dreary - to be the perfect vehicle for him. Very similar to "Sometimes", but maybe more immediate, let's just hope he doesn't dance in this video too. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)

Debbie Harry - Free To Fall (Chrysalis)

Debbie Harry always means a missed heartbeat and a place in the Top Ten to the more discerning record buyer. "Free To Fall" is mellow and deeply attractive; nice sorrowful tune, cooing backing vocals, and the bit at the end where it gets all choral. The prettiest 40(ish!)-year-old this side of Jan Leeming and maturing with great grace and dignity. This is better than almost anything Blondie ever did. (John Aizlewood, No 1, February 28, 1987)

It's Immaterial - Rope (Siren)

You're either very irritated or completely beguiled by It's Immaterial. Their songs reach out for that strangeness, that twitchiness that Talking Heads used to deal in. You either twitch along or leave the room. Here, they've re-invented a non-existent traditional folk melody, laced it with ghostly fiddling, and set it to a skipping drum machine. All pastel hues and shadowy word play, it makes for a nervily merry English voodoo pop. Stay with it, and twitch. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, March 7, 1987)

Itsy (as we fans call them) have had an undeservedly hard time following up "Driving Away From Home". "Rope" could just be the one to do it, ridiculously catchy, hopelessly cheery, and it has a 79-year-old banjo player, one Tarrant Bailey Jr, rocking out. Not a lot of singles can say that! Probably their strength (all their songs are so different) is their weakness (nobody knows it's them). All the same, 'tis a harsh and cruel world that cannot find room for It's Immaterial. (John Aizlewood, No 1, February 28, 1987)

A-ha - Manhattan Skyline (WEA)

Just when you think you can have a little snooze because A-ha have dished up another Eurovision song contest-type ditty, something dreadful happens. The gentle musings about umbrellas flying (?) are interrupted and a Slade record suddenly appears from nowhere - except of course it's not Slade because you can still hear the little tinkly bits. This is really very strange indeed, jumping about madly between quiet bits and lots of crashing drums. What has come over them? (Lola Borg, Smash Hits, February 11, 1987)

Swings and roundabouts here. Much meatier than the annoying "Cry Wolf" but less beautiful than the mighty "Hunting High And Low", "Manhattan Skyline" is edited from Scoundrel Days (and there can't be much of that not on singles) and shows A-Ha quiet and contrite, brash and bold all on the same song - charmer chameleons! It's backed with "Looking For The Whales" recorded live in London. If they'd peered towards Birmingham, they'd probably have seen one! (John Aizlewood, No 1, February 28, 1987)

When Aled Jones grows up, he'll probably be Morten Harket. This, the latest from the denim-clad Adonises, is the muso side of A-ha. Touches of Peter Gabriel and Sergeant Pepper creep in, with those virginal choir-boy-whose-balls-have-dropped off vocals are as forward as ever. If A-ha weren't so pretty they'd be on the cover of 'Q' and treated as the new Tangerine Dream. And that's something none of us need. (Eleanor Levy, Record Mirror, February 21, 1987)