Samantha Fox - Touch Me -deluxe Edition- Apr 2026

Disc Three (in physical editions, or a third digital “volume”) goes even deeper: alternative mixes, instrumental versions, and rare foreign-language recordings. Yes, Samantha Fox singing “Touch Me” in Spanish (“Tócame”) and Italian (“Toccami”) is here, and it is gloriously, unashamedly kitschy. Her pronunciation is earnest, the backing tracks are identical, and the effect is surreal—like hearing your favorite neighbor suddenly break into a Eurovision performance. Any great deluxe edition lives or dies by its contextual material, and this one soars. The 24-page booklet (in the CD set) features a new essay by pop historian Michael Heatley, who does not shy away from the complexity of Fox’s image. He details how she was discovered at 16 as a Page 3 model, the exploitation of the tabloid industry, and her remarkably clear-eyed transition to music. Fox has always insisted that Touch Me was her escape plan—a way to use the notoriety she never asked for as a platform to do what she actually loved: sing.

Interviews with the producers reveal the studio tension: they knew she had a raw, untrained voice, so they built the songs around her limited range but powerful attitude. They treated her like a punk-frontwoman, not a diva. The famous spoken-word intro to “Touch Me”— “Go on, touch me, I’m yours. Tonight.” —was reportedly recorded in one take, with Fox half-laughing, half-snarling. That authenticity cuts through the gloss. In an era of cynical “remastered” reissues that add one bonus track and call it a day, the Touch Me – Deluxe Edition is a labor of love. It argues for Samantha Fox as more than a nostalgia act or a tabloid footnote. It presents her as a genuine pop architect of the late 80s—one who helped bridge the gap between the post-disco sound and the emerging house music explosion. Samantha Fox - Touch Me -Deluxe Edition-

Hearing the “Extended Club Mix” of “Touch Me” is a revelation. It adds a full minute of percussive intro—cowbells, rimshots, a throbbing synth bassline—before Samantha even utters a word. It’s no longer a pop song; it’s a command. Similarly, the “Hot Tracks Mix” of “Do Ya Do Ya (Wanna Please Me)” strips the song down to a frantic, piano-driven garage-house beat, showcasing how Fox’s music was embraced by the early house and LGBTQ+ club scenes. Disc Three (in physical editions, or a third

Listening to the entire collection is an experience. You start with the hits, move through the deep cuts, descend into the 12” remixes, and emerge on the other side with a profound respect for the craftsmanship of an era when a single song could have four different, equally valid lives (radio edit, album version, 12” mix, dub instrumental). Any great deluxe edition lives or dies by

Then came the Deluxe Edition .

But the real revelation is the track sequencing and the inclusion of the original UK album mix, which differs subtly from the US version. The Deluxe Edition restores the interlude-like feel of the original, letting the Pete Q. Harris-produced tracks (he helmed the majority) breathe. Songs like “Rock City” and “Midnight Lover” no longer sound like filler; they reveal themselves as tight, energetic rock-pop hybrids that foreshadow her later, more rock-oriented work. The remaster strips away the brittle harshness of 80s digital recording, leaving a warm, punchy, dancefloor-ready sheen. This is where the Deluxe Edition transforms from a simple reissue into a historical document . Disc Two is a treasure trove of single edits, extended 12” mixes, and B-sides. For the uninitiated, the 12” single was an art form in the 80s—a chance for producers to stretch out, layer synths, and create a hypnotic, club-prime experience.

In the sprawling landscape of 1980s pop music, few stories are as uniquely captivating as that of Samantha Fox. She was an anomaly: a working-class London teenager who skyrocketed from tabloid pin-up to legitimate international pop sensation. Her 1986 debut album, Touch Me , was the sonic artifact of that transformation—a brash, glittering, and surprisingly resilient collection of dance-pop that sold over five million copies worldwide. But for decades, the album existed in a kind of purgatory: a relic of its era, available only in crackling vinyl rips or tinny CD transfers, its B-sides, remixes, and extended 12” cuts lost to time.