Taken together, Strange Charm (1986), Metal Rhythm (1988) and Automatic (1989) make for one of the more fascinating—and now rather underrated—sequences in Gary Numan’s catalogue. They are the final three studio albums associated with his 1980s output, and although none achieved anything like the impact of The Pleasure Principle, Telekon or The Age of Pleasure, they document an artist refusing to stand still while his commercial fortunes were changing dramatically.

What makes the trio particularly interesting in retrospect is that they point in different directions. Strange Charm is an atmospheric, slightly fragmented record trying to rediscover the darkness of Numan’s earlier work; Metal Rhythm pushes towards harder industrial funk and a more muscular electronic-rock sound; while Automatic, his collaboration with Bill Sharpe, moves into polished electro-jazz-pop. Within two years, Numan would emerge from the other side of the decade with Outland, and then embark on the much darker, more industrial phase that ultimately led to Sacrifice. In that sense, these records are less a dead end than the sound of a musical identity being dismantled and rebuilt.

Strange Charm (1986)

Strange Charm was the final studio album issued through Numan’s own Numa Records. Numan had been wrestling with the new recording technology available to him, and the album was produced largely with the Wave Team, alongside collaborators including Ade Orange. The personnel also included Bill Sharpe, Chris Payne and Dick Morrissey, giving the record a much broader palette than the stark early Numan albums.

It is an uneven album—but its best moments are genuinely excellent. “The Sleeproom” is probably the standout, a beautifully eerie piece in which space and restraint become as important as the instrumentation. “Strange Charm” itself has a hypnotic quality, while “My Breathing” and the closing “This Is Love” reveal a Numan increasingly interested in atmosphere rather than simply constructing another collection of machine-driven pop songs.

There is also the curious “New Thing from London Town”, a newly recorded version of the Sharpe & Numan single. That collaboration was important because it opened another door for Numan just as his solo career was becoming less predictable.

The album’s lack of cohesion can actually be part of its charm today. Numan himself later described it as fragmented and driven more by atmosphere than by a unifying musical or lyrical concept. It sounds like an artist searching—and occasionally finding something very good in the process.

Metal Rhythm (1988)

If Strange Charm is spacious and exploratory, Metal Rhythm is more physical. “New Anger”, “America”, “Devious”, “Cold Metal Rhythm” and “This Is Emotion” all demonstrate Numan moving towards a tougher mixture of electronics, funk, pop-rock and industrial textures. The bass and percussion have considerably more presence, and there is a sense that the cold futurism of the early records is being replaced by something earthier and more aggressive.

“New Anger” remains the obvious calling card, but “Cold Metal Rhythm” is arguably the album’s conceptual centre. It sounds like Numan consciously trying to redefine what his version of electronic music could be in the late 1980s. Even the title is telling: the pristine machines of 1979 have become something heavier, dirtier and more rhythmically driven.

Its troubled American history is part of the story, too. I.R.S. retitled it New Anger, altered the artwork, remixed several tracks and even substituted two songs, changes made against Numan’s wishes. In retrospect, the original Metal Rhythm is the much more revealing document: a late-80s Numan record caught between electronic pop, industrial music and funk, with the seeds of the much darker music to come already audible.

Automatic (1989)

Then there is Automatic, credited to Sharpe & Numan and released in June 1989. It is the odd one out, but also perhaps the most enjoyable surprise of the three.

The partnership with Bill Sharpe had already produced the successful 1985 single “Change Your Mind”, which reached No.17 in the UK charts. Automatic grew out of that relationship, with Sharpe responsible for the music while Numan supplied the lyrics and vocals. Tessa Niles provided backing vocals. Most of the material was actually recorded during late 1987 and 1988, but it took around 18 months for the record deal with Polydor to come together.

The result is considerably lighter than Metal Rhythm. “I’m on Automatic” is the obvious pop single, but “Voices”, “No More Lies” and “Change Your Mind” are arguably more interesting in the long run. Voices in particular has an unexpectedly sophisticated quality: sleek, spacious and melodic, it demonstrates that Numan could work beautifully within a more conventional jazz-pop framework without completely losing his identity.

The album only reached No.59 in the UK, while “I’m on Automatic” reached No.44. Plans for another Sharpe & Numan album subsequently disappeared, partly because of the record’s disappointing commercial performance and Numan’s dissatisfaction with its promotion. Yet Automatic has become an important piece of the puzzle because its electro-jazz-pop approach would feed into the sound of Outland in 1991.

If we are being honest then seen individually, none of these albums can really compete with Numan’s early classics. Seen together, however, they tell a much more compelling story.

Strange Charm finds him trying to reclaim atmosphere and mystery. Metal Rhythm makes the music harder, funkier and more industrial. Automatic takes a completely different route into sophisticated electronic pop. The apparent inconsistency is actually the defining characteristic: Numan was experimenting because the musical language that had made him famous was no longer sufficient.

That is why these three records have aged better than their original sales figures might suggest. They occupy an unusual place in his catalogue: neither the celebrated beginning nor the industrial renaissance that followed, but the bridge between the two.

And the timing matters. Automatic is effectively the closing statement of Numan’s 1980s studio career. After the live Skin Mechanic in 1989, there would be no new Numan studio album until Outland in 1991.

What came next was a very different Gary Numan.