Nobody does kitchen sink drama quite like Soft Cell. Pulp would have remained an aspiring third- rate, Monday- night "Sultans of Ping" pub band if Jarvis Cocker hadn't fully absorbed Marc Almond's tales of frustrated housewives and sexually clumsy teenagers. Of course, the whole world really remembers Soft Cell for their cover of Gloria Jones' "Tainted Love," but in their short time together, Almond and instrumental wonk Dave Ball made some phenomenal records. This three- disc set showcases Soft Cell's most flamboyant songs in their lengthiest incarnations.

Disc One kicks off with Club 69's fourteen- minute, stompin' 1999 remix of "Tainted Love." Just to remind us that it's 1999 and not the early '80s, Club 69's Peter Rauhofer has incorporated that Vocoder effect that Cher's been making squillions from. Admittedly, Rauhofer's never really been my bag before, but his combination of battering Syndrums and dirty keyboards add a welcome smearing to this rendition. Once 1999 is out of the way (goodbye), it's back to 1981 for Soft Cell's first release, the sublimely malevolent "Memorabilia."

Not only does "Memorabilia" boast the most bilious and convincing lyrics Almond ever wrote, but Dave Ball's electronics were never more edgy or more sympathetic to Almond's psycho drama. "Memorabilia” scrutinizes our need to record (as though we can't trust our memories) where we've been and what we've done. Almond transposes this need from tourist destinations (how disturbingly he screams out the names of cheap- thrill resorts on Spain's Costa del Sol) to sexual exploits ("Everywhere I go, I take a little piece of you/ I collect, I reject photographs of you"). The psychosis continues on "Persuasion" in which Almond is entirely convincing as a housewife who succumbs to a panic attack while at the supermarket.

"Tainted Love" makes its second of four appearances, this time in its original form: the nine- minute version with a segue way into a cover of Diana Ross and the Supremes' "Where Did Our Love Go?". Almond's voice sweeps back from an initial strength, through kittenishness, to end in a withdrawn despair. "Tainted Dub," on the other hand, is an echo- bursting, bass- heavy affair. Strips of lyric are dropped in as exclamations ("Get away!" "Tease!") before the engineer slurs the tapes to augment the distorted tension.

None of this collection's other tracks match the heights of the first five of Disc One. After the success of the duo's debut album, Non- Stop Erotic Cabaret, Almond and Ball were always catching up. In his lyrics, Almond began to explore more nihilistic themes that stretched his dramatic abilities. Ball started to expand the range of instruments he'd use to backdrop Almond's bedsit tales, but with fewer truly rewarding moments. (Ball also failed to recapture the lush pathos of "Say Hello, Wave Goodbye," though the clarinet solo here is transporting!)

But before Soft Cell descended into covering James Bond themes, Almond and Ball extracted a few unpolished gems. "Torch," "What!" and the rebuking "Numbers"-— all are shimmering electro- pop. Nonetheless, it all fell apart after the self- hatred of This Last Night in Sodom, which for all the acrimony, is still an immensely powerful album. Taken from that final album, "Soul Inside" opens Disc Three in a thrusting baritone sax celebration of decadence and frustration. Almond further explores his dominant themes of self- loathing and abuse on "Disease and Desire" before embarking upon his junk- dependant Shirley Bassey phase. Inevitably, the self hatred turned to suicide during "Down in the Subway," and by this time, it's no surprise that Soft Cell ended their singles career with a cover of Johnny Thunders' "Born to Lose."

In 1991, after Almond's success with both his Tenement Symphony solo record and hi-NRG cover of Jacques Brel's "Jackie," some of the early singles were recast by flavor- of- the- month remixers. Just so happens that Dave Ball's post- Soft Cell outfit, the Grid, had been storming the dance charts with such classics as "Floatation" and "A Beat Called Love" at the time, so who better to remix "Memorabilia?" The original's edginess is smoothed out into a satisfying Kraftwerkian groove. And the Grid reverentially spun "Where the Heart Is" for the chill- out crowds, complete with languidly lolloping piano vamps for those with a penchant for Italian house.

These guys may not have outlasted their peers (e.g. the Human League, Ultravox, et cetera). Though, through their glamorous torment, Soft Cell's combination of stark electronics and human drama set Marc Almond and Dave Ball far above those other bands (who were, after all, just banging on about being crushed by the wheels of industry, or being lost on a foggy night in Vienna). As ol' Jarvis might say, Soft Cell was in a wholly different class.

-Paul Cooper