Life's never fair. You help put electronic music on the map, popularise it for the likes of Depeche Mode, Ultravox, Human League etc. to piggy back a career on, sell 10 million records, and what do you get for it? Ridiculed. That's the life of Gary Numan. Yes it's true; Numan wasn't the first to make electronic music, Kraftwerk was, he wasn't even the most influential, Kraftwerk was, but he was the one who put it in the public domain by mixing the new sound of synthesisers with rock and pop ethics, whilst simultaneously becoming every inch a teenage idol.

Living Ornaments '80 is a musical biography of Numan at his peak. Yes, he's still going, albeit now on a dog lead yanked by those that once idolised him - fed on crumbs by Marilyn Manson and Trent Reznor, but nothing can take the relevance of this historical snapshot away from the man. He may be annoyingly self-depreciative, but whether he likes it or not, the content of this album was way ahead of its time. This isn't the posturing, lightweight new romantic guff espoused by the likes of Soft Cell, Duran Duran, Pet Shop Boys etc., this is dark electronica - but from 1980.

Recorded during Numan's Teletour, and on the back of his third successive number one album in the UK, Living Ornaments '80 is a double disc set showcasing concerts at London's Hammersmith Odeon, plus a recently unearthed, digitally enhanced mixing desk recording from North America later that year.

Disc one opens in England, with the track This Wreckage. Plodding, low, synth-bass tones create an enigmatic build up for Numan to amble into, and the crowd wets its undies Robbie Williams-style, even they didn't have a clue Numan's moody synth anthems would one day help to create entire electronic music genres - they just liked the remote control robots and zapping lights that adourned his extravagant stage sets, his handsome alien stare, and his meaty, melodic synth pop songs that defined an era.

All of Numan's big hitters feature on this double disc set - Cars, Are 'Friends' Electric?, We Are Glass, Complex, and I Die: You Die, and all of them revel in the sounds of Arp Odysseys and Minimoogs. It's rather like an analogue history lesson, albeit ably assisted by a very proficient backing band on drums, bass and guitar. Few people realise that Numan hardly wrote a bad song in the first 3 years of his career - tracks such as Everyday I Die, Remember I Was Vapour, Remind Me To Smile, Me! I Disconnect From You, The Joy Circuit, and Down In The Park are every bit as good as his most memorable of hit singles, if not better.

Meanwhile, completists will no doubt appreciate that this double dose of live tracks has also dug up a few lost gems, such as Stories, which later surfaced on Numan's fourth album, Dance, and also the rarely played live track Telekon, a twisted, demonic slab of dark electronica that only Numan could even think of doing - where's that self confidence gone now? If I had to be negative for a moment, then I'd wearily admit that Numan's vocal does grate after a while. Whilst his voice undoubtedly suits the motoric, doomsday etherialism of his music, he does tend to get a little over-theatrical at times, often reaching for high notes that daddy should have taught him not to.

Nevertheless, this is a real treat for synth lovers everywhere - the authentic sound of 80s electronic music, and one not to be missed for those who wonder where the dark side of electronic music originated from. So sit back and enjoy a lashing of tuneful, avante garde, synth pop misery - you won't regret it.