
A Secret Shame Pulsing on a Dance Floor
“Sin Of Love” is a dark, frenetic confession — the shadow-kiss of forbidden desire set to the electrifying beat of Eurobeat. Released in 1993 under the alias D-Essex, the track marks one of the most surprising—and little-known—twists in the storied career of David Essex.
David Essex, born David Albert Cook in 1947, is best remembered for his soulful rock ballads of the 1970s, including the smash hits “Rock On” and “Hold Me Close”. But “Sin Of Love” is not from one of his classic albums — in fact, it wasn’t even released under his familiar name. Credited to D-Essex, the song first appeared on the A-Beat-C label in 1993. Instead of climbing the UK Singles Chart — on which Essex had scored dozens of Top-40 entries — this track found its home in the underground world of Eurobeat, especially in Italy and among fans of high-octane Hi-NRG dance compilations.
What makes “Sin Of Love” such a compelling anomaly is its origin: despite the credit to David Essex, the vocals are actually performed by Maurizio De Jorio, a prolific Italian Eurobeat singer who adopted “D-Essex” as one of his many aliases. According to the Eurobeat Wiki, De Jorio used this alias extensively during the early 1990s on A-Beat-C productions. The choice of name may have been a nod to the British star, but legally it became complicated — Essex’s real David Essex allegedly threatened legal action over the name usage.
Musically, “Sin Of Love” is everything you wouldn’t expect from the singer of “Gonna Make You a Star” or “A Winter’s Tale.” It’s built on rapid BPM, driving 4/4 kick drums, shimmering synth lines, and a propulsive bass — all signature ingredients of Eurobeat. The production feels both urgent and synthetic, propelling the listener into a late-night, neon-lit world where every heartbeat seems synchronized with the rhythm.
Lyrically, the song is a confession wrapped in danger. Lines like “Walking fast to see my goal / I can’t wait for you no more” (as cited in fan-tracked lyrics) suggest a love that’s as much mission as obsession. The “sin” in question isn’t simply moral guilt — it’s the intoxicating risk of loving someone so deeply that all restraint collapses. The juxtaposition of longing and adrenaline underlines a tension between surrender and control, as though this love could consume both hearts and reason.
Though it never charted on mainstream pop charts, “Sin Of Love” has earned a cult status among Eurobeat aficionados. It appears in compilations like Maharaja Night – Hi-NRG Revolution Vol. 7 under catalog number ABeat 1104, cementing its place in the genre’s history. Over time, it has become a touchstone for listeners who appreciate the more theatrical and dark side of dance music — a hymn of desire where the sinner’s voice is bold, unrepentant, and electrified.
In the larger arc of David Essex’s career, “Sin Of Love” is a startling curio: an iteration of his name attached to music that couldn’t be more distant from his early rock-and-theatre persona. It reminds us that identities in music are not fixed, and that even icons of one era can cast unexpected shadows into entirely different worlds.