Recorded before the untimely death of Larry Cassidy in February 2010, 'Retrofit' sees cult Factory Records band Section 25 revisit key tracks from their extensive back catalogue, remade and remodelled for the 21st century using an appropriate mix of new and old technology.
The expanded digital version also includes exclusive track, Uberhymn, bonus RSD sin gle 'Reflection (Young Image), and closes with a pulsing re-boot of Looking From a Hilltop by New Order member Stephen Morris.
Cover art by Beth Cassidy.
FBN 140
"Initially dogged in their pursuit of rhythm-driven gloom, Section 25 later became an indie-dance crossover act with a penchant for lilting melodies and warm electronics. It's a fusion of these two sounds that often inhabits their 21st century work, with Retrofit comprising tracks from their back catalogue revisited in a brand new way. There's so much here to appeal to the hardcore fan, but for the casual listener it will likely be the Retrofit version of debut single Girls Don't Count which strikes the most efficacious chord. Its application of the original lyrics over a euro-esque beat and accompanying female backing vocals home in on just how brightly SXXV's light shone, no matter what style they turned their hand to. The title Girls Don't Count might have been tongue in cheek, but as this vinyl reissue proves, it can be declared with no irony whatsoever that Section 25 certainly do still count" (Electronic Sound, 09/2023)
"A shiny Teutonic stomp! Looking From a Hilltop is a dreamy electro pop peak, with a whooshing new dance mix from New Order's Steve Morris" (Uncut, 10/2010)
"Audacious and innovative" (Record Collector, 01/2011)
"A declaration of interest: for me, Section 25 might just be the best band in the world. Since 1980 they've been forging music that is as beautiful as it is challenging, from the monochrome psychedelia of their first album through Zen guitarscapes, electronic epiphanies, the arguable invention of acid house, and on to an unexpected rebirth in 2006. Even within the narrative of such an unusual band, Retrofit is an odd confection: not a best-of or remix album but a retrospective in which tracks are re-recorded, re-tooled and entirely re-modelled into gleaming techno sculptures with the most human of hearts. Beth Cassidy takes the songs her mother sang and transcends the weight of expectation to reinvent them, but it's her father Larry who remains the soul of the band - the sage who realised the old can again become the new. His death, shortly before this work was finished, was another artistic and human tragedy for Section 25. Retrofit stands testament to his genius" (Glasgow Herald, 09/2010)
"The idea is admittedly an odd one although in this instance it seems wholly appropriate. Gathered here is a selection of nine Section 25 faves. re-recorded and re-thought. The idea is born from their invigorating live set - compelling use of technology to lift them (almost) free from the familiar shards of 80s underground. Shockingly, this new attack works. It's impossible not to hone in on the sharp remix of Looking From a Hilltop, twice featured here although the it is the closing number, re-touched by Stephen Morris, that truly sets the tone for a Euro-tinged future. There is more. Dirty Disco is a near perfect evocation of the darkness of English small-town hedonism while Garageland, again, is carved from northern existential wandering. All this tightening appears to have tugged the band into a sense of Now, even if their sometimes clunky musicality remains gloriously at odds with the contemporary norm. If that sounds rather confused, so be it. But, as ever, it is a rare and workable confusion" (The Quietus, 09/2010)
"Like Little Boots' switched-on grandparents, the formerly doom-laden Factory electro-dancefloor auteurs have produced an infectious swirl of post-modernist motorik. Where Ian Curtis-produced 1980 debut single Girls Don't Count was once a dirge, here it's been glossed up to sound not unlike one of Saint Etienne's dubbier, clubbier moments, while a remix of Hilltop by Stephen Morris is pure techno flashback. Old-school on many levels, then, but pulsatingly sublime nevertheless" (The List, 10/2010)