The Style Council - Wanted (Polydor)

Old floppy fringe is back! And he's obviously spent his time putting every other Style Council waxing into a giant computer, jumbled them all together, pressed the button and - voila! Out pops this carbon copy of their last x-million singles. There's a bit in the middle that could well be ancient soulsters The lsley Brothers and throughout it all Paul burbles on about how he only wants to be wanted. Well, here's my little bit of advice - if that's what you want then don't make any more snoozy records like this. And get your hair done, for goodness sake. (Lola Borg, Smash Hits, October 7, 1987)

The Style Council - Speak Like A Child (Polydor)

The world waits with bated breath. The pubs are emptied and the streets are deserted as people scurry home to see if Paul Weller's quarter of a million deal with Polydor has paid off. And yes, the voice of a nation is set to cut it again. What I like is the fact that the bitterness has gone - there was nothing worse than Weller launching his tirades against art and society. Weller relaxes and coughs up a rich little number with his big toe in the past and his eye well and truly on the future. Weller's new baby is bawling lustily. May it grow to be strong. (Robin Smith, Record Mirror, March 5, 1983)

Or "speak like a child", as Paul Weller's curious vocal dialect has it. His first post-Jam effort makes a refreshing change from the choppiness of songs like "Town Called Malice", coasting along on the back of Mick Talbot's soul organ and sounding like the work of a man getting back to his own element. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, March 17, 1983)

Level 42 - It's Over (Polydor)

Once we've got past the positively asthmatic opening keyboard line, the Levellers deliver a powerfully sensitive song that makes up for some fairly corny lyrics with its atmosphere and, for once, restraint. Who cares if it's not the hippest single this week? It's an accomplished record that I'd play in my Cortina (if I had one) on the way to a cosy Epping Forest nook, late on Saturday night. (Andy Strickland, Record Mirror, September 5, 1987)

Kinda mellow and middle-America ie. benign ol' grandad out on the front porch serenading coyotes with trusty old harmonica and geetar. Don't quite know how Mark King and his varmints fit into this pleasing scenario but no doubt some black-and-white film and a well placed cactus will do the trick, (Paul Simper, No 1, September 5, 1987)

Pepsi And Shirlie - Goodbye Stranger (Polydor)

Far be it from me to grudge Thingmy And Wotsit their moment in the sun after so many years thankless labouring as Wham! stage props but this bright, brassy and breathless piece of frantic froth is not what you would call a "good" record. It will however - cruel but true - be played to death by Radio One because (a) they're girls and (b) they're the next best thing to Wham! for the moment (this does sound rather like them). (Ian Cranna, Smash Hits, May 6, 1987)

Siouxsie And The Banshees - Fireworks (Polydor)

Starts with an orchestra tuning up and ends with the sound of some fairly expensive rockets going off. In between you get the usual swirling Siouxsie sound, long on repetition but short on tune, eminently suitable for haunting houses etc. Probably recorded in a bell tower. Quite likeable really. (David Hepworth, Smash Hits, May 27, 1982)

John Lennon - I'm Stepping Out (Polydor)

For an extraordinary man, John Lennon managed to write a lot of very ordinary material before he died. This is so basic and dull that it barely merits criticism Who can take seriously A man who sings "gimme a break, gimme a break"? A lot of people over 30 will buy this and Yoko will become even richer but nobody knows better than poor Mrs Lennon that money isn't everything. (Muriel Gray, Smash Hits, July 19, 1984)

It'll be a hit, it's quite poppy. There's still a sparse amount of genius but it's not as good as his last one. It's not the best thing to talk about, dead people, but I think they should just let him be remembered for the great things he's done because he's not here now to make these records sound the way they should. (Andy Taylor [Duran Duran], Record Mirror, July 14, 1984)

Two People - Heaven (Polydor)

Two people have much in common with Red Box, and will hate me for saying so. Both pen songs which resolutely burrow their way deep into the subconscious, leaving one humming along like a blithering idiot, quite unable to stop. The essential difference is the embarrassment factor when accosted mid-hum. If Red Box are the offenders, one would expect to blush in places you didn't know blushed. If, on the other hand, Two People are issuing forth from your lips, relax, you have taste. (Lesley O'Toole, Record Mirror, January 10, 1987)

This pair of Scousers could be the ones to pick up where Go West left off, as, unlike the thousands of nothing-in-particular but-ideal-for-tinny-Radio-One-records that are released every week, "Heaven" actually is a compact and tuneful effort. But be warned. Singer Mark Stevenson has had a penchant for erotic lyrics ever since he gave up training for the Catholic priesthood. Their last single was the "Mouth Of' An Angel". Need I say more? (Frank Gillespie, No 1, January 17, 1987)

Visage - The Damned Don't Cry (Polydor)

Another stylish cover and a very stylish song. It does the various musicians credit that although it's a part-time interest for most of them, Visage have a sound of their own and are quite distinct from Ultravox or Magazine. If you liked "Fade To Grey" you'll enjoy this, though it's not quite as catchy. (Tim De Lisle, Smash Hits, March 18, 1982)

Level 42 - The Sun Goes Down (Living It Up) (Polydor)

Oh God, not more summery disco records. The Radio One roadshow has got a lot to answer for. Level 42 have a suitably laid-back vocal swaying in and out of a warm jumpy synth rhythm. Fairly pleasant. Roll on winter. (Peter Martin, Smash Hits, August 4, 1983)

Level 42 goes increasingly spare every time somebody says they make anonymous records, so now they've enlisted the services of Earth, Wind And Fire at the production desk. The result is surprisingly not the funky equivalent of the Royal Philharmonic in your front room but a catchy little number marred only by the 42s' dry vocals. (Paul Simper, No 1, July 23, 1983)

Orange Juice - Felicity/In A Nutshell (Postcard/Polydor)

Well, it's better than their last, unhappy effort "Love (L.O.V.E.)", but Edwyn should really look to his vocals. They let down the songs, the playing and the production, and that's not right. (Ian Birch, Smash Hits, January 7, 1982)

The Style Council - Shout To The Top (Polydor)

The self-conscious searching for a sound that used to characterise the Style Council, has all but disappeared. "Shout To The Top" has Mick Talbot trading piano riffs with an orchestral backing that forms the song instead of just decorating it. And Paul Weller sounds comfortable copying no vocal style but his own. I think they just earned themselves a new fan. How does 'Cupofteano Kid' sound: (Dreadful – Ed.). (Martin Townsend, No 1, September 29, 1984)

Once more Mr Weller plunders the past to give us yet another passable imitation of those baggy-trousered soul stompers of yore. Personally, I've never been able to understand why he spends so much time and energy attempting to emulate something that's already been done - and far better - before. Must be all that capuccino. (Vici MacDonald, Smash Hits, September 27, 1984)

Playing spot-the-influence one more time - adaptations of the hard-hitting chords from "Backstabbers" and "War", a glance back to "My Ever Changing Moods", and still it sounds the freshest pop record of the week. (Paul Sexton, Record Mirror, September 29, 1984)

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)

Two People - Rescue Me (Polydor)

Wet, dreamy pop didn't exactly catch on last year, as The Lotus Eaters will testify. Perhaps it brings out that spiteful streak in all of us that despises anything so blatantly soft. That said, this is a gem. It sets out to be nothing more than an admirably crafted, lovingly performed pop song. And succeeds. There's hope for the dreamers yet. Single of the week. (Paul Bursche, No 1, February 16, 1985)

Bucks Fizz - Keep Each Other Warm (Polydor)

Bucks Fizz have never been the same since the dual tragedy of the coach crash and the Great Jay Aston Affair. "Keep Each Other Warm" is their best effort yet with the new line-up, but set beside the sheer genius of, say. "Land Of Make Believe'', it doesn't really cut the cake. Watch out for its inevitable appearance on TV in a few weeks time as an ad for how you should always come home to a real fire. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, November 5, 1986)

The first of the Crimble cuddle-ups.. .Oxen will moo, babes will gurgle and as the Star Of David settles over yonder TOTP studio Bucks Fizz will find themselves back amongst the yule with a very welcome hit. Just one Xmas caution.. it might be better for Shelley for cover up her legs just a little more as nasty Mr Frost comes a-biting round the ankle chains. One ballad alone is not really enough to keep you warm, you know. 3/5 (Paul Simper, No 1, November 8, 1986)

The Big Supreme - Please Yourself (Polydor)

This is the best I've heard. And I'm not saying that because I know Barry Flynn... I really like this. I thought the last single was a definite cert, but "The Smile And The Kiss" was the best. Actually, I've got some demos of his somewhere. If this is a hit I'll have to dig them out and flog them! (Owen Paul, No 1, March 28, 1987)

A supremely bold record. It begins with some ominous piano, which sounds like someone's just DIED. Then, BAM You're hit with a punch drunk Martin Fry going for a Motown-y form of on-beat dance insistence. With lots of chunky boss. and some 'parting the Red Sea' choral bits, it's all very body-building and the best Big Supreme single so for. Which only just excuses the vile stripey blazers worn by Barry and the girls on the sleeve. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, March 7, 1987)

Hey! Meet The Big Supreme, who - PRESTO! - are all set to be pop stars! "Please Yourself" is a monstrous sound, a remarkable mixture of Pete Burns, Julian Cope and Pete Wylie. They also look rather fetching and are obviously destined for much greater things. Gulp. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, March 11, 1987)

Sharpe And Numan - Change Your Mind (Polydor)

So here we have it, one of the most unlikely partnerships in pop music: steel-voiced, steel-faced Numan with furry dice Shakatak supremo Sharpe. I don't care much for what either do alone so I expected this to be doubly abominable. Not so. In fact it's rather good. The most amazing thing is that for the first time ever Gary actually sings a tune. Previously he's only ever mumbled in a robotic monotone so understandably the first few lines are a bit painful - but by the end he's really getting the hang of it. (Chris Heath, Smash Hits, January 31, 1985)

The most unlikely pairing so far this year features Bill Sharpe, best known for his keyboard playing with snooze specialists Shakatak, and Gary Numan. The combination is bizarre, but curiously effective. Gazza sounds as nasal and distanced as ever but there's more of a tune than on his recent outings. Can't wait to see 'em on TOTP either. Will Gary have talked Bill into trying out his new true blue lipstick? (Karen Swayne, No 1, February 2, 1985)

Shakatak leave wine bar, beam up to Biggles' futuristic bi-plane and tap out somethin' for Gary to get all nasal about. Not the next Chas 'n' Dave. (Jim Reid, Record Mirror, February 2, 1985)

Salvation Sunday - Heart In Motion (Polydor)

Only about 12 months ago the "serious" music papers (hi!) were "tipping" three new bands for the top. One was Curiosity Killed The Cat, one was Brother Beyond and the third was Salvation Sunday. Mmmm. Well, if "Heart In Motion" is the best they can do, looks like the pollsters will have to settle for a disappointing one out of three. (Barry McIlheney, Smash Hits, March 11, 1987)

Lisa Stansfield - I Got A Feeling (Polydor)

This is a perfect example of someone who has had their face on telly and automatically assumes they can sing. But all is not lost. Not only is this actually a good song (a cover), but Lisa has the funniest voice ever, sort of a strangled Tracey Ullman. Unlike Tracey, however, Lisa's serious about it. (Paul Bursche, No 1, November 19, 1983)

It's very hard to make a Holland-Dozier-Holland song (the Motown writers) sound bad so I hope she has a hit with this bright pop song. However, my panel thought it a miss. (Jools Holland and The Panel, Smash Hits, November 24, 1983)

Sandie Shaw - Are You Ready To Be Heartbroken? (Polydor)

It may not be her 60th birthday, but Sandie Shaw - the barefoot, be-fringed '60s songstress - is quite simply one of the best pop people ever invented. This bright and brash version of an old Lloyd Cole song ('Looking like a born again / Living like a heretic') sounds not unlike the Pretenders with its spangling guitars and quavering vocal, and is also quite simply wonderful. Bravo, ma'am! (Ian Cranna, Smash Hits, May 7, 1986)

Siouxsie And The Banshees - Cities In Dust (Wonderland/Polydor)

Looks like Sioux has spent her absence from the music scene on her hols in Greece - judging by the rather tasteless picture of an ancient couple bonking on the record. Our travel correspondent says that this is the sort of thing you get on beer mats in dodgy tavernas out there along with lecherous waiters. The song itself has an unusually catchy, funky feel, but the usual lyrical concerns of the Banshees are present and correct - y' know, dirt, dust, decay, death, that kind of thing. Well, they couldn't write about beaches and suntans now could they? (Karen Swayne, No 1, October 19, 1985)

The Banshees have returned from a sojourn in Italy inspired, apparently, by Pompeii (ancient city preserved forever by a volcanic eruption thousands of years ago). The song moves in early Simple Minds territories and, surprisingly enough, the Jim Kerr-type vocal inflections work well. Anyway, I love Siouxsie Sue. (Paul King, Smash Hits, October 23, 1985)

Still possessed of the finest sorceress caterwaul in the business, Siouxsie briefly gloats and croaks over the demise of a civilisation as her fellow statues stir up a scattering of underground sound effects. Meanwhile, the rest of the world wonders where the dip and drive of "Dazzle" has been buried, and waits for the next earthquake. A private record, to be bought for old times' sake, for the lupine massacre of sound on the B-side, and for the sake of a little sanity amid the surrounding musical insipidness. (Roger Morton, Record Mirror, October 19, 1985)