Thomas Dolby “The Golden Age of Wireless” 1982. Yesterday, October 14th, was Thomas Dolby’s 60th birthday (b. Thomas Morgan Robertson 1958). The Golden Age of Wireless was Dolby’s debut album, it’s clever, complex new wave synthpop that spawned the greatest ode to science ever, the smash single “She Blinded Me With Science.” (I dare you to read that without saying, either out loud in your head, “SCIENCE!” in the voice of British scientist and TV presenter Magnus Pyke. In fact, I did it myself just a couple of days ago, totally out of context, when discussing Science class with Vault Boy.) “She Blinded Me With Science” went to #5 in the US and #56 in the UK. “Science” was the last single released off of The Golden Age of Wireless; other singles were “Urges,” “Europa and the Pirate Twins,” “Airwaves,” “Radio Silence,” and “Windpower.” All great, but I also like the non-single “Flying North,” a sweeping, melodic, bordering on anthemic track that excellently invokes the sensation of flying.

This copy of The Golden Age of Wireless is an early UK reissue; in 1983 after the success of “She Blinded Me With Science,” both Columbia (US) and Venice In Peril (Dolby’s UK record label) reordered and swapped tracks, removing “Urges” and “Leipzig” from the original pressing and added in the song “One of Our Submarines.”

From AllMusic: “The Golden Age of Wireless [is] an intriguing and often very entertaining curio from the glory days of synth pop. Part of the album’s overall appeal is the range of participating musicians, no doubt thanks in part to Dolby’s own considerable range of musical work elsewhere. “She Blinded Me with Science” itself features Kevin Armstrong on guitar, Matthew Seligman on bass, mega-producer Robert “Mutt” Lange on backing vocals, and co-production with Tim Friese-Greene. Elsewhere, Andy Partridge contributes harmonica, Mute Records founding genius Daniel Miller adds keyboards, and Lene Lovich adds some vocals of her own. The overall result is still first and foremost Dolby’s, with echoes of David Bowie’s and Bryan Ferry’s elegantly wasted late-‘70s personas setting the stage. If anything, The Golden Age of Wireless is the friendlier, peppier flip side of fellow Bowieobsessive Gary Numan’s work, where the melancholy is gentle instead of harrowing. Dolby’s melodies are sprightly without being annoyingly perky, his singing warm, and his overall performance a pleasant gem. Especially fine numbers include the amusing romp “Europa and the Pirate Twins” and the nostalgia-touched, just mysterious enough “One of Our Submarines.”