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If you'd like to buy Electric Friends merch including stickers, T-shirts, mugs and more, please head to https://electric-friends.printify.me/
In this episode I dive into one of the most unexpected Gary Numan surprises of recent years — the release of Like a B-Film, a previously unheard Telekon-era demo that suddenly appeared via the 45th anniversary re-issue.
I explain how the track appeared almost out of nowhere. Very quickly, it became clear this was genuine: raw 1980 synth textures, unfinished edges, and Gary’s unmistakable vocal — a time capsule suddenly dropped into the present.
The episode looks closely at the lyric sheet shared by fans online, lines that shrink humanity into “little pictures,” reference “B-films” and deadened media culture, and land on stark declarations like we are broken, we are shattered, we are glass. I discuss how the imagery hints at emotional numbness, voyeurism and disconnection — themes that would later define tracks like I Dream of Wires and Remind Me to Smile.
We also hear Gary himself address the track at Hammersmith — admitting he doesn’t remember writing it, joking that it probably didn’t make the album “because it’s happy,” and marvelling at Beggars Banquet uncovering a demo he’d forgotten.
The episode includes reactions from fans comparing the sound to John Foxx, celebrating the synth tones, and debating whether it ever would have sat comfortably on Telekon — or whether saving it has made the surprise even sweeter.
I also preview other demos on the anniversary release, and reflect on why unheard material still excites Numan fans after four decades.
By Tom Eames4.9
1515 ratings
If you'd like to buy Electric Friends merch including stickers, T-shirts, mugs and more, please head to https://electric-friends.printify.me/
In this episode I dive into one of the most unexpected Gary Numan surprises of recent years — the release of Like a B-Film, a previously unheard Telekon-era demo that suddenly appeared via the 45th anniversary re-issue.
I explain how the track appeared almost out of nowhere. Very quickly, it became clear this was genuine: raw 1980 synth textures, unfinished edges, and Gary’s unmistakable vocal — a time capsule suddenly dropped into the present.
The episode looks closely at the lyric sheet shared by fans online, lines that shrink humanity into “little pictures,” reference “B-films” and deadened media culture, and land on stark declarations like we are broken, we are shattered, we are glass. I discuss how the imagery hints at emotional numbness, voyeurism and disconnection — themes that would later define tracks like I Dream of Wires and Remind Me to Smile.
We also hear Gary himself address the track at Hammersmith — admitting he doesn’t remember writing it, joking that it probably didn’t make the album “because it’s happy,” and marvelling at Beggars Banquet uncovering a demo he’d forgotten.
The episode includes reactions from fans comparing the sound to John Foxx, celebrating the synth tones, and debating whether it ever would have sat comfortably on Telekon — or whether saving it has made the surprise even sweeter.
I also preview other demos on the anniversary release, and reflect on why unheard material still excites Numan fans after four decades.

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