An iconic trailblazer in electronic music, Gary Numan combined synthesizers, tight songwriting chops, and an evolving glam sci-fi image into a gleaming package that was wholly new in the late ’70s. Numan’s icy, futuristic sound and striking aesthetic, first as the leader of Tubeway Army and later as a successful solo artist, influenced generations of musicians from new wave to nu-metal and beyond. Prepare to probe the outer limits of the musical chameleon’s extensive discography.
Playlist
Are ‘Friends’ Electric? (1979)
This brooding 1979 Tubeway Army single from its album Replicas captures many of the themes that dominate Numan’s catalog: isolation, technology, and societal decay. Speaking to The Guardian, he said of the song’s characters: “These machines—friends—come to the door. They supply services of various kinds, but your neighbors never know what they really are since they look human.” The number one UK single features seesaw synths and a plucky rhythm section, elements that would become hallmarks of Numan’s distinctive arrangement style.
Cars (1979)
Most artists would count themselves lucky to create something like a signature song. “Cars,” Numan’s first solo single from 1979’s The Pleasure Principle, is nothing if not such a calling card, a port of entry into the artist’s unique take on the paranoia of modern life. The song achieved the highest commercial success of any Numan composition, reaching number one in the UK and Canada and remaining his only US charting single. Its wavering glacial synth line and opening couplet, “Here in my car, I feel safest of all,” are haunting identification stamps of this dystopian classic.
Music for Chameleons (1982)
Opening with spooky ring modulation and featuring fretless bass, güiro, and sweeping flanged synth, this number from the 1982 album I, Assassin, introduces a new Numan character: the globetrotting dandy. Inspired by a flight worldwide (the unpredictable Numan is a licensed air display pilot), the song also boasts some of the singer’s most impressive vocals on its soaring “woahs.” Oddly, “Music for Chameleons” also has the distinction of sharing a title with Truman Capote’s short fiction collection from 1980.
Down in the Park (1979)
As the first song Numan wrote on keyboards, “Down in the Park” was a radical departure from the grittier sound of early Tubeway Army. Its gently flanged snare and loping hi-hat groove carry us through an electronic soundscape. The track marks a pivotal moment in Numan’s career: the beginning of his putting synths at the forefront of his sound. While hit single status eluded “Down in the Park,” its dizzying mood remains a staple of Numan’s set. Widely covered by everyone from Foo Fighters to Christian Death, the song is a singular composition—a tone poem of bleak beauty.
M.E. (1979)
From the opening seconds of M.E (the letters stand for Mechanical Engineering), you can hear how its influence echoes in Daft Punk, Tame Impala, and scores of other contemporary acts. The song, appearing on The Pleasure Principle, kicks off with thick slabs of monophonic bass synth that bounce like intergalactic rubber bands. Later, its plaintive violin part underscores lyrics told from the viewpoint of Earth’s last machine standing.
Intruder (2021)
It’s no secret that Numan’s music had a far-reaching impact on the industrial music scene. Nine Inch Nails revere the austere sonic environments Numan pioneered, even covering his song “Metal.” The admiration was mutual, and by albums like 2021’s Intruder, Numan had fully integrated post-millennial electro vibes into his oeuvre. Over a sonic cauldron bubbling with with techno belches and trip-hop menace, Numan intones about his public atheism on lyrics like, “You can whisper your Lord’s prayer, and pretend that it matters.”
Me! I Disconnect from You (1979)
The eight-note synth line that signals the start of “Me! I Disconnect from You” by Tubeway Army could almost be the sound of the young Numan pulling away from the punk scene. Intent on moving into new realms of musical experimentation, Replicas was a bold step into a future informed by everything from 1984 to the works of Philip K. Dick. The song evokes a distinctly British mood; you can almost picture a Tardis appearing in time to the various audio effects. Yet crunching power chords cement the song to terra firma, affirming that while Numan was on a new journey, the nihilism of punk was still present in his cyborg veins.
I Am Dust (2013)
The bludgeoning big beat and metallic sheen of “I Am Dust” slightly obscure a tune that, in some ways, offers a modern update on Numan’s early solo work. One can also detect the influence of NIN and Numan-fave Depeche Mode on the track’s crashing darkwave attack. As the opening track from his 2013 release, Splinter (Songs from a Broken Mind), “I Am Dust” presented the artist in fighting form, ready to add his voice back to the cultural conversation. The public responded by sending the album into the UK top twenty, making it his highest-charting release since 1983.
Metal by Afrika Bambaattaa (2004)
The hypnotic grooves and chrome sheen of Numan’s vision reached into the worlds of hip-hop and electronica via festival favorites Basement Jaxx and Armand Van Helden, who incorporated his futuristic vibe into their recordings via samples. One left-field collaboration that illustrates Numans’ appeal to groove-based music makers is this cover of “Metal” by rap pioneer Afrika Bambaattaa from his album Dark Matter Moving at the Speed of Light. Numan appears on the 2004 jam, which also references Bowie’s “Fame” and “Heart of Glass” by Blondie.
I Die: You Die (1980)
One of Numan’s most direct tracks, “I Die: You Die,” presents a distilled version of the Numan persona, encapsulating many of his quirks (arpeggiating synths, vocal hiccups, glam guitars) in three minutes and forty-three seconds of perfect pop. It emerged as a single before the artist’s fourth album, Telekon. And when those compressed handclaps come in at 00:14, you know it’s going to be a robotic banger. Stephin Merritt of The Magnetic Fields released his own version of “I Die: You Die” on Random, providing another example of Numan’s cross-genre appeal.
This is Love (1986)
“This is Love” is a lesser-known selection from the far-reaching Numan songbook. The outlier, which appears on Strange Charm, the artist’s 1986 release and eighth studio album, is a slow-burning torch ballad replete with slinky sax, cocktail piano, and some of Numan’s most vulnerable crooning. While probably not the first song to play a Numan neophyte, “This is Love” is as intoxicating as a fever dream—all smoky rooms and new romantic atmosphere.
