"You don't have to be Prince if you want to dance / You just have to get down with the Age Of Chance..."

The first white band on an independent label to deliver a record that successfully crosses the alertness of hip hop and electro, the wit of comedian Eric Bogosian and the bullying guitars of... well, Age Of Chance. 'Kiss' is visually stunning. Chevrons and luminous exclamation marks hurtle from all corners of the sleeve, world hungry quips and logos pounce from any available space. Aurally intimidating and shocking, this is the first competent go-go report from a dangerous, ongoing sonic dance war zone. A trouble-punk score for a Britain so desperately in need of some angry, alert and ambitious young sods to run along and kick it.

The vision and confidence required to produce this record, and the arrogance necessary to release it so soon after Prince brightened up our lives with it, is phenomenal. This is as good as Janet Jackson, better than Sonic Youth, and as forcefully vitriolic as a weekend detention with Alexei Sayle, Stalin and
Julie Burchill. And why not? Not everyone has to be so hung up on music's past that they are condemned to repeat it until the very stench of staleness is louder than the disc itself. There is no reason why brilliant, stimulating music should not return to the decks of our record players. The only people to better this in 1986 have been Parley 'Jackmaster' Funk and Prince himself.

'Kiss' is awesome. I've painted my cream Harrington day-glo pink and glued bacon to my loafers, made skin-tight shorts out of my Trouble Funk sleeves and swapped my typewriter for twin turntables. The whiteys are tuning in. Kiss!