The Mobiles
Mobiles

Perhaps few know that, in the golden 1982, somewhere in England, the electronics of certain Mobiles resonated. Finding them today is not an easy task, also because typing "mobiles" on the web now means being overwhelmed by avalanches of cell phones, bluetooth, or, in the best cases, by decorative objects. But who on earth were these Mobiles then? Neither would I have ever known if I hadn't stumbled upon this vinyl in an old flea market.

The cover immediately caught my attention, it looked like "154" by Wire, but in much more subdued colors and quite unusual in the combination: black-and-white geometric shapes on a dark green background. Inside the sleeve, here's a photo of the group: in the center stands a sort of poor man's Siouxsie, surrounded by a group of Martin Gore clones in strict new romantic attire: all too intriguing to leave the record where it was. The premises were interesting, but in the end, I didn't hope that the purchase would turn out to be so spot on. "Mobiles" (this the only writing on the cover) is a little gem of decadent synth-pop that would make any fan of the Depeche of "A Broken Frame", or early Duran Duran and Propaganda rejoice. Perfectly aligned with the new romantic style, it interprets its most intimate and melancholic side; the underlying atmosphere is that of the last lights of the day, with soft and at times poignant melodies that overshadow certain mixing flaws (the drum machine is way too intrusive), while the rarefied sounds, which do not reveal the distribution of duties within the lineup, increase the aura of mystery.

It begins with "Drowning In Berlin", a track that fully encapsulates the group's style, and, also chosen as a single, will remain the only trace of lived fame over the years. The mood is sad, meditative, marked by the dry beats of the drum machine, and with a beautiful crescendo of keyboards in every refrain. It is followed by the lighter "Better Late Than Never", an attempt at catchy and almost playful pop that exhausts itself. "Amour Amour" candidates itself as the perfect decadent pop-song, with Smithson's voice weaving between the synthesizers creating a veiled harmony full of suggestions. The next "Fear" speeds up the pace following certain new wave canons, but without giving particular references. "Long Time" instead closely recalls Duran Duran's self-titled debut and reserves the best for a finale once again in twilight hues. The second side starts strong with "Climbing Frame", captivating and rich in melodic variations, while the next "Partners In Fiction", with its cadenced rhythms, is another gem of silent melancholy. "Struth" plays on the interplay between guitar and electronics, but it's essentially a filler; it is followed by "Tamarind Man", an electropop which, while not exciting, appears consistent with the style heard so far. The album closes with the soft and poignant "You're Not Alone", one of the best tracks overall, thanks to its mix of keyboards and distant sad choruses.

The debut of these Mobiles, followed (I suppose) by little else, so firmly entrenched in the ivory tower of new romantic, is to be taken as it is, without too much sophistry. It will certainly please all those who loved certain electronics of the time, perhaps not very polished, but undoubtedly full of charm. Some naiveties remain, such as the rough production or the poorly thought-out tracklist, but these are things easily forgiven in hidden gems. Recently I discovered that a reissue of the album on CD has been released, with the addition of a lot of unreleased material; I believe it's the right opportunity not to let them slip away again, and maybe evaluate for yourself how "drowning in Berlin" sounds these days...