Soft Cell, the two-man synth band infamous for "Tainted Love" and for exploring the nightlife underbelly of the '80s, have returned in surprising form with their first new studio CD since 1984's Last Night in Sodom. And like many former clubkids-turned-grownups, they've widened their view of the world, turning a perceptively critical eye on fame, excessive lifestyles and shallow banality with some success. Soft Cell's last foray into cashing in on their early fame—the Memorabilia: Remix singles collection that litters bargain bins everywhere—was so terrible that I faced this new CD with great trepidation, crossing fingers that this effort would compare favorably to their early synthpop classics. There are no instant classics like "Bedsitter" or "Sex Dwarf" to be found, but Cruelty Without Beauty is a well-formed, catchy effort, buoyed by Marc Almond's still glorious voice and mature, sharp lyrics.
The music differs little from the formula that made them once famous for 15 minutes—simple, cold, infectious beats and Almond's dramatic cabaret vocals always at the forefront—the lyrics have grown up just like Dave Ball and Almond have. The unabashed, tongue-in-cheek admittance of their age is so playful compared to their old club day worries and fascination with seediness. Soft Cell always obsessed about aging, but in the shallow, self-indulgent way young pretty things worry about their first wrinkle or at what age they'll be laughed out of the clubs. Here, Almond sings from the perspective of someone who's been there, done that, and lived to tell the kids that there is life after 40.
In "Whatever It Takes," Almond travels his way through the laundry list of crutches—from colonics to cocaine—he's known during his "midlife crisis." He romantically croons about lost dreams, wasted loves and an object of affection who's "so far out you're on your way back in again" in ballad "Last Chance," a grown-up version of "Say Hello Wave Goodbye." The dramatic flair of Almond's vast solo efforts are found on "Caligula Syndrome" and the haunting "Together Alone" deserves to be a hit, though it's more likely destiny is a blip on the club circuit.
Though some moments are slightly groan-inducing (their continued railing against conformity is particularly forced), Ball and Almond have survived their dark early days with their senses of humor, as well as their musical talent, intact.
Soft Cell Cruelty Without Beauty
