Four weeks at number one from w/e 1st June 1985
It opens with fairly basic drum patterns, but it soon unfolds, introducing Peter Hook’s bassline boldly, followed by a beautifully twittering sequenced synth pattern, a second layer of bass level sequencing, a strong, triumphant chorus hook, then once you’ve finally succumbed to the idea that the song has a traditional structure, it reaches the halfway mark and decides to pull every conceivable melodic variation out of the bag. Peter Hook suddenly gets the idea that he needs to rock out and produce what can only be described as a Miami Vice chase sequence riff, then there’s a gentle rhythmic and ambient melodic breakdown involving ribbeting toads (nobody had that pegged on their New Order bingo card at the time), then skiffled kitchen noises, before the track becomes borderline symphonic.
Seven minutes in it decides it hasn’t said everything it wants to say, exploding into a crescendo of lasers and bright melodies. The group seldom sounded like Jean Michel Jarre, and probably wouldn’t take the comparison as a compliment, but this is the closest they came to exploring the idea of seventies progressive electronics, where being bold and exploratory, letting ideas sprawl and breathe and taking your own sweet time to sniff every avenue weren’t things to apologise for. If that makes “The Perfect Kiss” in danger of sounding like a chore or a bore, it’s actually anything but – every moment of it is a joy. It’s a rare example of a long, drawn out single which feels half the length of its actual playing time.
While the above may cause readers to conclude that “The Perfect Kiss” was a labour of love, in fact it wasn't - the track was recorded in a rush before they set off on tour. The only real clue to this frenzy lies in Sumner’s lyrics, which are even more half-arsed and disjointed than usual, offering fragmentary and contradictory ideas such as “Pretending not to see his gun/ I said let’s go out and have some fun” and “I know, you know/ we believe in a land of love” which never quite glue together in any meaningful way. Sumner later informed journalists that he actually didn’t know what the song was about and could only account for what inspired certain fragments, so it’s a series of torn up lyric book ideas thrown into the air, a jagged breadcumb trail of notions which ultimately lead nowhere.
Beyond that, it’s an unconventional and ambitious groove which may not have been as accessible as “Blue Monday”, but was certainly the first post- “Blue Monday” single to prove that the group still had the ability to produce something that was both epic and majestic – that it was obviously effortless for them to do so remains astonishing.
Both British radio and the record buying public seemed unimpressed, however, causing the single to be the first New Order single which wasn’t an import to fail to reach the Top 40. If Depeche Mode’s fortunes waned in the synth pop unfriendly mid-eighties, New Order’s crashed – Radio One, which later became a huge champion of the group, largely snubbed it despite its obvious strengths, turning their focus towards the slickly produced rock and soul of the day.