In brief: The most boring album Depeche Mode has ever released.

First off, a bit of a disclaimer. If you’re a Depeche Mode fan, you might get a bit pissed off about what I have to say. You might even see me as a DM hater. If that sounds likely, you can feck right off. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass.

The thing is, I’m probably a bigger fan of Depeche Mode than you. I fell in love with the band in 1981, immediately after hearing Just Can’t Get Enough for the first time. During the years I’ve spent thousands of Euros on their music and merchandise. I’ve seen them live at least 20 times in various European cities and first attended their concert on the Black Celebration Tour, back in 1986. I guess you could say I’m a pretty hard-core fan of DM.

But I’m not a fan of guitars, acoustic drums or rock’n'roll. Give me synthesizers and electro pop; give me fantastic melodies, chord changes and pop hooks that stick in my mind until death. Songs like Strangelove. People Are People. Everything Counts. Enjoy The Silence. Yes, you know what I mean.

I was convinced Alan Wilder’s departure would be the end of Depeche Mode. But no. They took a brief break to sort out their lives and, in the case of Dave, their deaths, and bounced back. Tim Simenon and his team did a pretty good job replacing Wilder, I thought. What’s more, Ultra displayed some excellent song writing.

I think the same applies to Exciter, to some extent. There’s no denying the fact that DM fucked up by hiring/forcing Mark Bell to produce the entire album. Again, the album has a few bloody excellent songs on it, but Gore’s songs were incompatible with Bell’s production.

Playing The Angel was, to me, a welcome return to the halcyon days of Ultra and Songs of Faith and Devotion. The songs weren’t of the quality the fans were used to, certainly, but Ben Hillier’s lush production more than made up for the somewhat lacklustre writing. And who’d have thought Dave Gahan possessed the writing chops to create Suffer Well, one of the album’s highlights?

Three and a half years later, and Sounds of the Universe is now mere weeks from its official release. This is the album which was supposed to take DM back to their electronic roots. Not Speak & Spell; surely nobody expected that. How about Music for the Masses, then? Nuh-uh. Care we hope for the poppy perfection of Violator? You’re having a laugh, mate. “Returning to their electronic roots”. I have no idea who first started that rumour, but it turned out to be complete and utter bullshit. Thanks for getting our hopes up, you douche.

Remember how DM used guitars in the past? They were sampled, processed and combined with other sounds to create something new, something exciting. As the years went on, the amount of processing became less and less, until a guitar on a DM album sounded like… well, a guitar, plain and simple. On Sounds of the Universe the original idea has been turned on its head. Now synths sound like distorted electric guitars. Surely you’ve heard “Wrong”, the first single from the new album? It’s got plenty of synthesizers, but they’re all slightly distorted, growling, resonating buzzsaws, filling in the spectrum like a wall of electric guitars. There’s plenty more of that on the album.

Don’t get me wrong, though. Depeche Mode has not turned into something you listen to while torching a church in Norway. There’s no spikey hockey gear in sight, nor is anyone wearing a black & white clown mask. No, things aren’t quite that bad. To be honest, the album contains quite a lot of clearly synthesized sounds. I can almost hear you go “Ah-ha!” on this revelation. But wait! It’s not what you think. Hillier & DM have taken a two-prong approach to synths on this album.

INTERIOR. STUDIO. MORNING.
Present: producer Ben Hillier, songwriter Martin Gore, accountant Andrew Fletcher

There’s a thump on the door. Ben walks over, opens the door and sees Martin struggling with a tall pile of keyboards.

- “What’s this? More synths?!”
- “Help us out here mate. My back is killing me.”

Together they arrange the keyboards on the studio’s large table.

- “Martin, we really don’t need any more synths. We’re drowning in them as it is!”
- “I know… but we’re supposed to be going back to our electronic roots. Don’t you read the internet? Let’s plug them in!”

Three hours later. A massive fart sound plays from the speakers. Someone is heard laughing and clapping in the adjacent room.

- “Fuck it. I hate synthesizers!”
- “Ohh-kay Mart, take it easy. So what do we do?”
- “Screw the synths. I don’t want to hide behind keyboards anyway. I want to stand on the edge of the stage, pluck a couple of notes and feel the audience love me! Why should Dave hog all the glory?”
- “Rrrright.”
- “Let’s go through all the songs and add a wee guitar solo to each one.”
- “A guitar solo? You mean, like a proper rock’n'roll solo?”
- “Nahh, too much work. A few simple notes I can play in my sleep should do.”

Half an hour later. Martin flicks a guitar pick at the trash can. Ben looks worried.

- “What do we do with all these synthesizers?”
- “Let me think… Got it! Let’s start a couple of tracks like this.”

Martin taps his finger on the table, playing a series of sixteenth notes.

- “Just a single note?”
- “Yeah! It’s electronic! That’ll shut the synthpoppers up.”
- “But Martin… we’re burying all that under a wall of guitars and live drums a few seconds later! You honestly think you can fool them with that?”
- “Probably not. Good point. Ah, to hell with it. Add a few synthesized plinks, plonks and sproings whenever there’s room in the mix and Bob’s your uncle!”

So, yeah.

1) Start the track with one or two synths playing the most simple melody you can imagine, let them play for a few seconds, then bury them under other instruments.

2) Use synths as sound effects to fill in any “empty” gaps in the songs.

INTERIOR. STUDIO. DAY.
Present: producer Ben Hillier, songwriter Martin Gore

Ben and Martin are listening to a mix of ‘Peace’.

- “There you go, Mart. You guys haven’t had a track this electronic since Exciter.”
- “Hmm… it’s still missing something. Oh, I know!”
- “Go on…”
- “Some guitar!”
- “*facepalm* Of course.”

Martin stands up and skips happily towards the guitar rack. He doesn’t notice the one already plugged in and trips on its lead. The guitar falls down on the floor and Martin lands on its strings face first.

- “Got it in one, thanks.”

Martin removes a pick from his nostril and looks up, flummoxed.

- “Eh?”
- “Yeah, that’ll do fine. I’ll slap that in at the end… there… save it… aaand we can break for lunch.”

In all seriousness, though, “Peace” can honestly be labeled ‘electronic pop’. But that’s the only one on an album of 13 tracks. It’s not a very good song, either.

And therein lies my biggest issue with SOTU. It doesn’t have any good songs on it. Not a single one. Really. “Peace” is probably the best of the crop. But had it been placed on, say, Black Celebration or Music for the Masses, it would have easily stuck out as the worst track of the album.

Sounds of the Universe is populated entirely by mediocrity. There’s no passion, no soul, not a single unforgettable hook in any of the tracks. Gore’s songs reek of a song writer way past his prime, now running on automatic, churning out songs that could have been written by almost anyone. Gahan, along with his writing partners, is still struggling for respectability in Gore’s shadow, all too often falling back to clichés and lazy, instantly forgettable melodies.

Sure, there are some brief glimpses of greatness hidden among the turds. However, those are limited to a nice chord change in one song, a clever arrangement to enhance the refrain or a nice change in atmosphere for the bridge in another. Fleeting, all too brief glimpses that have absolutely no chance in rescuing the whole from being the most boring, most disposable album Depeche Mode has ever released.

INTERIOR. STUDIO. MORNING.
Present: producer Ben Hillier, songwriter Martin Gore, singer Dave Gahan

Ben frowns and looks up from his notes.

- “Lads, I don’t think you’ve got a proper track to release as the first single.”

Martin and Dave glance at each other. Martin grins and picks up a pen and a piece of paper.

- “I can whip something up in no time.”
- “Uh, I don’t think that’s necessary, Mart. I’m sure Dave has some songs we haven’t looked at yet. So, uh, Dave, do you think y–”
- “All done.”
- “…what?”
- “First single. All done.”
- “Let me see that!”

Ben yanks the piece of paper from Martin’s fingers and examines it for a few seconds.

- “Mart… you realize that the verse consists of only two alternating notes?”
- “Uh-huh.”
- “And there’s no refrain!”
- “So?”
- “Mart… mate… this is just wrong.”
- “Ooh! Ooh! Can I use that as the title?”

Songs:
Sound:

Links: Homepage

Release date: 20/4/2009
Genre: Pop/Rock
Label: Mute Records / EMI Records Ltd.
Review source: 192kbps mp3

After their 2005 album, Playing The Angel, and especially after the dismal world tour that followed, I had pretty much given up on Depeche Mode. I couldn’t fathom them recording another album, much less a brilliant one. When the news of another album broke, my reaction was quite simply “Meh”. Then came the rumours. Martin spending a lot of money buying old analog synths on eBay; DM allegedly embracing their electronic past; the new logo and album art reminiscent of their Black Celebration era… and I have to admit getting my hopes up, again.

Only to have them smashed brutally against the rocks as the YouTube video of DM performing ‘Wrong’ live (as if!) on Echo Awards 2009 played on my screen for the first time. What…the…hell.. was that? Did they play a single B-side by accident? (And a poor B-side at that, I might add.) Seems to me the song consists of a bunch of verses without a chorus, unless the chorus was that bit where Gahan chants “WRONG!” a few times in FX-laden monotone. No, really, where’s the FRACKIN’ CHORUS?! FFS, honestly! Has Gore’s well of catchy choruses dried up this badly? Sure, the signs have been there for years but I hadn’t realized the situation was this dire.

Then there’s the production. It’s basically a rock song with growling synths on top. The funny thing is that I can hear a wall of synths there, but the song in whole doesn’t sound at all electronic. Is that a good thing? Not in my books. Much of the synths are simply random bleeps and squelches filling in the spectrum; there’s no proper melody there. Remember when their songs used to be filled with fantastic melodies played on solo synths?

The YouTube video managed to add insult to injury, too. I had been extremely disappointed with DM’s previous two world tours, referring to them as Monsters of Rock tours. Light on synths, heavy on guitars and live acoustic drums. I first saw DM live on the Black Celebration Tour: three guys behing synths, as it should be. Now it’s Gore strumming a guitar at the edge of the stage with a live drummer banging away like he’s auditioning for Metallica. This YT video showed there’s no change in their live set-up. That pretty much means Tour of the Universe will be the first Depeche Mode tour I won’t be attending in almost 25 years.

Depeche Mode: Playing The Angel

They’ve done it again. Against all odds, Depeche Mode have once more created an album which is nothing like their previous releases.

A lion’s share of the glory must go to Ben Hillier, a perfect choice as the producer, who imbues the album with an almost experimental edge – no doubt fuelled by Martin Gore’s penchant for minimalistic click house and distorted, almost Autechre-like percussion sounds. But this is not techno – it’s not even on the same planet.

Playing the Angel sounds like it was produced by an amalgamation of SOFAD-era Alan Wilder, who’s replaced his grandiose orchestral arrangements with masses of warm synth pads and buzzing analogue synths, and a sombre, slightly depressed Vince Clarke, who was denied the use of an arpeggiator and forced to tune down his synths by two whole octaves.

That is, apart from the first single, Precious, which sounds nothing like the rest of the album. Yet that, too, follows the plan – intentional or not – Depeche Mode have crafted when it comes to selecting the first single from a new album. Personal Jesus and Barrel of a Gun gave the impression of, respectfully, a rockier and heavier album to follow. Yet the albums were not what the singles promised (or threatened). This time, Precious hints of a lighter, almost up-beat (well, as up-beat as DM can get) style. Not surprisingly, Playing the Angel does a full 180-degree about-face right after dumping Precious on an unsuspecting crowd and never looks back.

1.

A Pain That I’m Used To starts with a heavily distorted synthline which reminds one immediately of The Dead of Night. And there the similarity ends. The song moves at quite a nice pace, with just enough bpm to make it danceable, ticking and throbbing along effortlessly, almost modestly, like Dave’s vocals. The chorus starts, and Hillier turns all knobs to eleven. Distorted synth from the beginning of the song brings with it a rumbling bassline which doesn’t bother to knock: it kicks the door in. Strong vocals and catchy melody hook apply the finishing touch, and it’s obvious to anyone this track will be a single at some point in time. (Update: after I wrote this preview, ‘Pain’ has indeed been confirmed as the 2nd single release.)

2.

John The Revelator begins with an almost Glockenspiel-like melody. Dave’s vocals are run through an obvious effect, and the whole affair has a distantly Personal Jesus-like feel to it. Heavily processed guitars often rise up to steal the limelight, setting the listener ready for similar experiences on practically every track. The shout-along chorus is not catchy enough to warrant a single release, and the instrumental bits between vocal parts are more akin to rhythmical sound effects than melodies.

3.

Suffer Well was written by Dave. It’s quite uptempo, starting with synth sound effects, then breaking into in-your-face distorted guitars. Hillier fills the track with huge pads, random crunches and noise. The chorus left me unimpressed, though there’s a chance this one will grow on repeated listenings.

4.

The Sinner In Me introduces yet more distorted synths, followed by almost Walking In My Shoes-like drums; slow, dark and heavy. Staying well below 100bpm, this feels like a very slow ballad speeded up slightly. There’s a surprising contrast between different parts of the song: while some swim deep, others have a much lighter touch. Like with Precious, the chorus of the track takes some finding at first. PTA contains very few songs that open up on the first listen, and TSIM would’ve definitely warranted a few repeats. Too bad there wasn’t time for any.

5.

Next up is Precious, which, like me, you’ve all heard a thousand times. The version on the album sounds identical to the “leaked” video version, with guitars on top and Dave’s vocals slightly buried during the chorus. Of course, the song sounds a helluva lot better coming from a properly mastered CD.

6.

Macrovision is the sixth track and the first to feature vocals by Martin Gore. The song’s got nothing to do with the infamous brand of copy protection schemes. Macrovision starts without drums or percussion, and anyone would be forgiven for thinking it’s going to be a ballad. The tumbling bassline gets some backing from muted drums for the chorus, followed by a bridge filled with raw, distorted percussion. Production of the track reminded me of Martin’s demos for Counterfeit 2. Excellent chorus, by the way.

7.

Second track written by Dave Gahan, I Want It All, is probably the low point of the album. Below 100bpm, it’s filled with audio gimmicks, distorted drums and percussion and plenty of heavily processed semi-acoustic guitars, which is usually mixed on top of everything else. There’s also a very brief, almost Kraftwerkian synth sound with an appropriate melody making an appearance around the halfway point. IWIA is a very hard song to “get”, as it meanders from part to part without much apparent structure. Name of the song is thrown in willy-nilly, like an afterthought.

8.

Nothing’s Impossible is the album’s third and final song written by Dave, and it’s incredibly dark. It’s also a low-end bass monster, growling mightily on at somewhere around the 100-110bpm mark. There’s a huge amount of noise and synths below Dave’s vocals, a bunch of very odd synth sounds, and a recurring guitar melody on top of the lot. Dave’s vocals are almost overwhelmed by a wall of noise during choruses. All in all, the best of Dave’s efforts, and not a bad track at all.

9.

Introspectre is yet another of those interminable and totally unnecessary interludes that somehow find their way onto Depeche Mode’s albums. Clocking in at 1:45, this one’s mercifully short, leaving no impression what-so-ever.

10.

Damaged People, track number 10, is sung by Martin. In my notebook there’s a full page of hastily scribbled text about this one, most of it totally unreadable. It’s one hell of a song and the only one on the album which made the hairs on my arms stand up and cold shivers run down my spine. The way guitars and synths swell up to support Martin’s vocals… whoa. Then there’s the lyrics:

When you’re in my arms
The world makes sense
There’s no pretense
And you’re crying

When your lips touch mine
And I lose control
I forget I am old
And dying

Make of that what you will, devotees.

11.

Lillian, the penultimate track, is one of the faster songs on the album – and it’s simply screaming to be a single (Update: my guess is it will be the next single release after A Pain That I’m Used To). Dave’s vocals are run through a FM radio-like effect, there’s plenty of the now-familiar processed guitar plucking on top, as well as an entire myriad of pulsating, throbbing, churning and twisting synth sounds. I jotted down a bit from the lyrics:

Oh Lillian look what you done
You’ve stripped my heart
Ripped it apart
In the name of fun

Definitely one of the high points of PTA, and one of the more easily accessible songs as well.

12.

PTA ends with The Darkest Star, sung by Dave with backing vocals by Martin. It clocks in at 6:50, featuring both quiet and loud parts, filtered synths, lonely piano arrangements, quietly throbbing bassline and some rather threatening sounds thrown in for good measure. (I guess they didn’t have a kitchen sink readily available.) Another track which absolutely refuses to open immediately. The chorus is simply amazing, with the sort of vocal bellowing you might expect from an ungodly hybrid of a human and a mythological beast from the pits of hell. It makes you want to repent your sins and bow down towards the speakers. What a way to end the album.

Any final thoughts, you might ask? Well, yes, quite a few, but they’re all too jumbled to make much sense of right now. It’s a very difficult album to get to grips with, I can tell you that much. Expect to spend a lot of time with it for some of the songs to finally open up. I hesitate to compare PTA to any of the previous albums, simply because it’s so different – and yet, it’s so obviously Depeche Mode you might shed a tear or two.