Pleasure Victim is the second studio album by American new wave band Berlin. It was originally recorded in 1982 and released in October of that year by M.A.O. Records and Enigma Records.[3] After the second single, "Sex (I'm a ...)", received considerable attention, the album was re-released on January 26, 1983, by Geffen Records in the United States and by Mercury Records internationally. The album marked the return of lead singer Terri Nunn to the group. To date, it is Berlin's best-selling album and was certified platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) on February 9, 1993, becoming the band's only album to do so.[4]
"Sex (I'm a ...)" peaked at number 62 on the Billboard Hot 100, while subsequent singles "The Metro" and "Masquerade" reached numbers 58 and 82, respectively.[5] The album itself peaked at number 30 on the Billboard 200 in May 1983.[6]
Originally including seven tracks on both vinyl and cassette, Pleasure Victim is sometimes listed as being an EP album. Subsequent cassette and CD versions of Pleasure Victim include the extended version of "Sex (I'm a ...)" as a bonus track.[1] According to John Crawford, the album's reissue on Geffen was identical to the original Enigma release aside from "a little remixing".[7]
On August 31, 2020, a remastered version of Pleasure Victim was released on CD by Rubellan Remasters, expanded with single mixes and extended remixes from 1982 and 1983. Early versions of singles from 1981, when Berlin was with M.A.O. Records, were not available for licensing.[8]
The album's original release on Enigma sold 25,000 copies, an exceptionally high number for an independent release.[7]
In a joint review of Pleasure Victim's 1983 reissue and Soft Cell's The Art of Falling Apart, Michael Goldberg of Record panned the album, saying that Berlin's use of sex to sell their music (particularly noting the track "Sex (I'm a ...)" and the inner sleeve photo of Terri Nunn wearing nothing but a mink stole) is unintentionally humorous, and that the instrumentation is riddled with synthpop cliches. He concluded, "Like bad pornography, comic books and a Top 40 hit like 'Rosanna', one can wallow in the sheer trashiness of Pleasure Victim, though you wouldn't really want to call this stuff 'music'".[10]
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