Before the industry figured out that you can sell more units if you put out the “special bonus disc edition” of an album after the standard edition—forcing fans to buy both if they want to have the album right away and the bonus disc, which of course we all do—Pet Shop Boys released the initial run of their opulent 1993 album, Very, with an extra disc, Relentless.

It also featured some of the most innovative CD packaging, in both editions, yet designed.  In 1993 people only just starting to think outside the jewel case box and Very/Relentless shattered that with its three-pocket, bubblewrap-esque sleeve.  The subsequent single-disc edition of Very is, of course, the iconic orange “LEGO brick” design seen in abundance (5-million copies sold) at used CD shops worldwide.

Containing the hits “Can You Forgive Her”, “I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind of Thing”, “Yesterday, When I was Mad” and their cover of “Go West”, Very is very much essential listening for even the most casual Pethead, but is Relentless, very?

The answer is “no.” Though Very itself is very dense and, frankly, relentless,  Relentless isn’t very relentless at all.

At least not for an album titled Relentless. The concept behind the second disc is it’s hardcore dance floor music as opposed to the pop songs on the first disc, which is very Pet Shop Boys (see what they did there?).

The problem is Relentless relents. Though still one of the most abstract and flowing things the Boys have done, none of the tracks explode into pumelling hi-NRG beats but sort of float around the edges of hard-house and trance without really committing themselves.

Which is really only a problem with the title (more suitable to an album like Underworld‘s Second Toughest of The Infants) and not the music itself. The set would have been much better ironically titled Disco—the package then being titled Disco/Very, a pun they used for the tour, I believe—only they’d already used Disco as a title for their 12″ singles compilation. But, ever the urbane ironists, perhaps Pet Shop Boys meant Relentless to be ironic all along.

Continuing with the theme of irony, I don’t listen to Very very often because it is, as mentioned above, a tad relentless in its production. Elaborate orchestral arangements, thick beats, insanely hooky melodies, mens choirs and an underpinning of claustrophobic paranoia, all add-up to a relentlessly dense listening experience.

The Boys always have a punchy, high-impact/high-drama track or two on each album (“It’s a Sin”, “Always On My Mind”, “Love, etc”) but Very feels like every track is smacking you in the face with orchestra stabs and compressed kick drums. That’s not a bad thing by any stretch, but it can be a little intimidating when reaching for some light synth-pop to accompany your day. 

Actually, to be perfectly honest, the album isn’t nearly as relentless as my subconscious is convinced it is. It’s really as introspective as any of their other albums, almost bilingual in the way it’s balanced between up- and down-tempo numbers. And the fact almost any of the tracks could have been a top-ten single release makes it an album which aims to please. Yes, it’s an album very much designed with nightlife in mind, but like most of their discography, its fundamental strength isn’t in its ability to party but in its concrete study of human psychology and behaviour. Setting Very‘s own virtues aside, the alternative packaging (pop-art in itself) for Very/Relentless is an essential artifact for any Pethead.