Imagine, if you would, the worst early-80s Depeche Mode tracks that you can-the throwaway fluff, the embarrassing filler, the deeper than deep cuts that make you think "What were the boys from Basildon smoking back then?" I'm talking about tracks from the pre-Black Celebration era that just make you cringe at the mere mention of their titles. Now imagine a collection of those tracks, sort of the antithesis to a greatest hits collection, perhaps entitled "Droppings: 81>85". That collection, in all of its synthetic wretchedness, would so far outshine the Client album that it would be akin to comparing a single Christmas tree light to the sun. Andy Fletcher, ostensible head of the Toast Hawaii label, should stick to what he knows best--namely, clapping out-of-rhythm onstage and breathing Dave and Martin's valuable oxygen. Good fans of electronica, I beseech you-pass this one up unless you are profoundly hard of hearing or an avowed aural masochist. P.S. Helpful tip for the Fletchinator: just because the vocalists can sing better than you doesn't mean that they can actually sing. Miss Kittin sounds like Kathleen Battle in comparison to the caterwauling on this disc.