Listening to the Human League is much like inspecting the metatarsal of a dinosaur in some dusty museum. You wonder how the artefact survived, then you wonder what purpose it can possibly serve in today’s world.

Kitsch appeal may have latterly salvaged at least one of the Human League’s ’80s hits (‘Don’t You Want Me, Baby?’), but Secrets must depend on the quality of its material alone.

This is not a good thing. While the electronica driving the record’s sixteen tracks proves melodic, if anachronistic, the band’s lyrics would make even Stock, Aitken and Waterman recoil in horror.