Luckily, I was too young to know I shouldn’t like both Erasure and Mötley Crüe. So now Erasure has decided to dig up some of their old B-sides and give them an acoustic treatment. I thought it might be to Erasure’s advantage that I didn’t really know their B-sides; I wouldn’t be in a position to complain that these weren’t as good as the originals.
But the opposite turns out to be true – I think the only people who will find this interesting are Erasure fans with zombie loyalty. The theatrical, self-involved tendencies that were so glorious when paired with synth-pop become real torture when slowed down. Every song on Union Street sounds like the mopey character’s big moment in a horrible musical.
By the middle of the album, Erasure starts to sound like harpists being beaten. Or harpists who should be. Erasure and Vince Clarke have had so many triumphant moments – and recorded so many transcendent singles – that I feel comfortable saying this one goes straight in the tank.