It would be understandable if anyone approached Danceteria, Soft Cell‘s sixth album, with a deep sense of sadness. It is, after all, indisputably the legendary synth duo’s final album, following the death of co-founder Dave Ball last year. However, this isn’t a maudlin exercise in grief by any means.

Instead, Danceteria is almost celebratory and coated in a rosy glow of nostalgia. Named after the New York nightclub where Marc Almond and Ball spent a lot of time in the early 80s, the album acts as an autobiographical document of the pre-Giuliani days when Times Square was full of seedy porno cinemas and sex workers, rather than a sanitised tourist trap.

Written and recorded during Ball’s final months, it was eventually completed just before his death in October 2025. It has the cohesion of a concept album, transporting the listener back to those heady early-80s days, and serves as a natural companion to the duo’s classic debut, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret. Like that album, this is a reflection of hedonism and debauchery but with a transatlantic focus this time around.

The opening track, Elusive, is a bit of an outlier – opening with doomy synth chords, it’s a spoken word introduction before the title track kicks in. That song is more representative of the album: a big disco-anthem which pays tribute to the Manhattan nightclub of the same name. Coincidentally, Madonna (who receives a namecheck here) has also released her own tribute to the club this year and it’s fascinating to listen to the two songs in tandem: nostalgic lookbacks with various faces of the era being mentioned in the lyrics.

To coin a cliché, on Danceteria, it feels like New York City is almost a character in itself. Times Square completely captures the neon-soaked, seedy glamour of the district, with Almond painting a picture of his younger self – a hungover, shoeless figure watching movies in the afternoon and popping pills with friends.

The Rainbow Room seems almost unbearably poignant to listen to in 2026 – it’s simply a song about having a meal in the famous restaurant at Rockefeller Center and looking out at the skyline, but the mention of the Twin Towers reminds you that it’s an era that can never be revisited. The squalling saxophone coated over the song just enhances the 80s nostalgia feel.

Elsewhere, there’s a non-judgemental song about crack cocaine in Crackland, which would sound wildly inappropriate anywhere else but on this record, while Decadence Is Hard Work has a gritty, industrial edge pulsing through it. It’s not all about endless pleasure seeking though: Two Of A Kind is a lovely, self-aware ode to Almond and Ball’s long friendship and how they both found their separate tribes in Manhattan.

Suitably enough for a band whose biggest hit was a cover version, the album ends with a joyous, celebratory rendition of Was (Not Was)‘s Out Come The Freaks with guest vocals from the legendary Nona Hendryx of Labelle. It’s fitting that this celebration of outsiders and misfits should be Soft Cell’s last recorded output.

Musically, it also makes for a lovely swansong to Ball. His soundscapes throughout the album are gloriously cinematic and mix squelchy synths with saxophone flourishes. It’s not a retread of the band’s younger years, but the sound of a glorious journey coming full-circle. What a journey it was.