Marlene and high-drama to a disco beat.

The history of pop music is littered with baffling “what if”s. Why wasn’t that person a bigger star? Why was that person even given a chance? And more often, in my world at least, how on earth was that not a massive hit?

Two instances of this last question particularly rankle for me. One is the cataclysmic misfire surrounding the release of The Parade’s Terrorise the Dancefloor, allegedly pulled from the shelves on release day before it could really shift any decent numbers. Another is Belvedere Kane’s Never Felt as Good. This did at least see release in 1996 and had a good hefty chunk of press and hype surrounding it, but the expected assault on the charts somehow failed to materialise.

Dodgy copies of another BK track, Murder, circulated on the internet, and rumours abounded of an entire album of material, but this was all the stuff of legend. Belvedere Kane became a footnote, destined to be spoken of only in whispers and rumours, and the occasional mention in a book which most readers would assume was a band made up by the author.

Belvedere Kane was the brainchild of Barry Stone, fledgling songwriter and producer at PWL, deeply involved at the time working on Dead or Alive’s 1995 album ‘Nukleopatra’. Encouraged by Pete Waterman to write himself a hit, he worked on Belvedere Kane in his own time, harbouring dreams of pop superstardom. As front-man this would never come to pass, but Stone – alongside his writing and producing partner Julian Gingell – has written, produced and remixed countless classic songs over the years as part of either Jewels and Stone (or “Stools and Joan”) or under the alias of… well, The Alias. So, it’s not like he’s not having one hell of a career.

But then, unexpectedly, January 2026 brought the news: the Belvedere Kane album was real, the tapes had been found and it going to be released at last. The result is ‘Such Trying Times’ and it’s every bit as brilliant as you’d hope.

The album opens with Legends (Forever Young), a song written around a snippet of a Pete Burns vocal from the ‘Nukleopatra’ sessions, now turned into a heavy-weight song of its own, Stone living the dream of singing on a track with his idol. It’s a grand paean to trendsetters and freaks, and Stone’s vocal stands well alongside the brief snatch (if you’ll forgive the term) of Burns featured. The CD release also features a great remix courtesy of the Alias to round things off.

The DoA comparisons don’t stop there, though, with Stone snarling his way round the previously leaked and revenge-tastic Getting Away with Murder in a very Burns-esque fashion. Originally written for consideration by DoA, Burns very much wanted it for himself until Stone decided he couldn’t give it up. It’s also another showcase for an unusual but eminently satisfying melodic progression in the soaring bridge – another Kane hallmark – and presumably it was also intended to be the second single as a video was made for it too.

The undisputed highlight, however, is still Never Felt as Good, the cowardice-meets-karma-drama that is the BK signature song. I once managed to track down a copy of the CD single on eBay, my purchase rewarded by a compliments slip from the vendor, good-humouredly noting “what a CAMP track” and I don’t think anyone who hears it will ever disagree. Seriously, why the hell didn’t this take over the charts? Sometimes the world is just plain wrong.

The new Kobold Mix for the album features a new lyric in the second verse (with some clever editing to cut round it in the remastered video) but it’s still recognisably the same record as the original, and still just as fabulous. The everything-including-the-kitchen-sink production of arpeggiated synths, soaring strings and synthesized angels is pretty much everything you could wish for. Plus, there’s a glorious Kobold Orchestral Reprise included on the CD, which is just delightful.

As if the album wasn’t camp enough, it also delivers the title track Such Trying Times, a danced-up cover of a Marlene Dietrich b-side from 1965. It’s probably the most appositely titled song you could wish for in 2026, even if that’s probably by accident. If Pet Shop Boys could have dreamed of “Marlene and Debussy to a disco beat”, this cut could only have exceeded their expectations.

Another dancefloor highlight is the arrestingly named Isabella Rossellini. It’s kind of an inversion of Erasure’s Love to Hate You, powered along by a thunderingly Motiv-8-esque bassline to great effect, and could easily have been shortlisted as another single.

It’s not all vengeance and grand-guignol, however. Belvedere Kane as an alter-ego is no stranger to longing or regret too. We’re Not Lovers is an epically stomping album closer in an “I want more” vein. Then the mournfully soaring We Never Said Goodbye and gorgeously throbbing Sleeping Dogs provide two beautiful moments in which to pause and breathe a little amid the dancefloor frenzy. (Sleeping Dogs, incidentally, I can totally hear Dubstar covering, which, for me, is high praise indeed.)

Sadly, in this jewellery box of stone-cold gems, Could This Be Love and I Want You I Want You are probably the cubic zirconia in the pack. Both are passable numbers, and many artists of the time would probably kill to have them in their catalogue, but while they shine, they don’t do it anywhere as brightly as their album-mates.

A surprise exclusion, though, is The Goodbye Song, b-side to the original Never Felt as Good single. Perhaps it was always considered as reverse-platter material as it arguably covers ground already well-trodden by the other tracks, but for this listener it would hold its own better than the slightly off-putting Magazines. It’s odd that on an album steeped in 90s flavours, it’s the subject of Magazines that dates it far more than its production, and it’s racked up way fewer plays from me than almost every other track on the album.

Since this album is being released 30 years after the fact it’s difficult not to treat it as a special edition and feel slightly disappointed by the lack of remixes, alternate takes etc. But that’s unfair as this is really the first release, and the inclusion of just one extended mix is in keeping with how it would have been released at the time. Still, I’m hoping for the occasional re-twizzle of a track or two or some backing tracks to emerge digitally into the wild at some point.

Despite being long overdue – its lateness is one Southern Trains must be seeing as a new standard – I’m perversely grateful it’s taken this long to arrive. These are sparse times for fans of well-produced melody-driven pop, so ‘Such Trying Times’ doesn’t so much breeze in as burst open the door like a tropical storm. There’s little chance of another new album as good as this coming along like this in 2026, so it’s a welcome pick me up, most of which’ll be stuck in my Airpods for months to come.

Belvedere Kane était mort. Vive Belvedere Kane!