Time waits for no man, which, in the autumn of 1987, must have been galling for Art Of Noise. Here they were with their third album, exploiting their well-established, ahead-of-the-curve talent for incorporating samples into pop. But something had changed. These artful abusers of technology, futurism, musique concrète and humour – once skilfully encapsulated in their early hits, the radical Close (To The Edit) and sumptuous Moments In Love – appeared to be yesterday’s news.
Only three years earlier, their Top 30 debut long-player, 1984’s Who’s Afraid Of The Art Of Noise?, had been received with glee, NME declaring it “a pleasure dome and a treasure trove”. Melody Maker, too, had described it as “touched with spontaneous invention, troubled by the sounds of a dark Metropolis, spurred on by the…