PLAYING THE ANGEL

Depeche Mode (album)

Seven years and 365 columns for this fine ’paper – that’s how long I’ve had to wait to say this next sentence. Depeche Mode have just released an absolute stunner of an album. Now, before you say “Ah, but he’s biased, he likes them anyway”, if you’re a regular reader you’ll know it’s not as cut and dried as that. If you’re not, firstly – you’ve missed out (stop laughing), and secondly, here’s my take on things. Since Alan Wilder left the band, the past two albums have had the sound of a band limping along without a clear direction. I’m sure it’s not all down to Alan, but Ultra was inconsistent – one minute I was marvelling at the relentlessness of Barrel Of A Gun, the next I was wondering if I was still listening to the same band. I put that down to the fact that the band nearly imploded in the mid-nineties, after all, their first album after Vince Clarke walked isn’t exactly brimming with classics. Then they released Exciter, an ironically titled album that contains some of the band’s most cringeworthy songwriting since Mr Clarke penned the line “Hey you’re such a pretty boy”. Nice one, Vince, cheers for that. There were two problems with Exciter. Some of the lyrics were really lovey-dovey – Depeche Mode are not good at lovey-dovey, there always has to be some grounding in the real world for them to make it work (listen to Somebody from Some Great Reward and then Goodnight Lovers for proof – the former works brilliantly, the latter fails dismally). The other problem was the production – there just wasn’t enough to the tunes, and it was so minimal that after one listen you’d pretty much heard it all. This time though, Depeche Mode sound as though they’ve decided to stop living on past glories and really go for it and the results are clear immediately. Track one, A Pain That I’m Used To (doom and gloom even in the song titles – always encouraging) starts off with a powerful roar that nearly made me fall off my chair with surprise. After that, the bass starts up, soon followed by the drums and by the time the chorus storms in, it’s clear that Martin Gore’s songwriting is back to approaching his best. This one track is darker, livelier and better than anything on Exciter and, unlike Ultra (which led off with Barrel Of A Gun and then floundered), this time they’ve kept the momentum going. John The Revelator also motors along (and is also class) and then we come to Suffer Well, a song what Dave Gahan wrote. In fact, he’s co-written three and they’re so good, I’m wondering why he’s never contributed songs before. The surprise elements are back too, where they decide to change direction halfway through a song (the guitar crashing in during The Sinner In Me, for a start). I’ll settle for that, it means you never quite know what’s coming next or even how a song’s going to end, in short, exactly how an album should be – you’ve got 80 minutes to play with, use it for experimentation, not somewhere you can bung twelve potential singles. As if to prove the point, two songs stroll in at over six minutes, while one (an instrumental, too – let’s see Daniel Powter do that - please) doesn’t even get as far as two. Finally, just when I thought the album couldn’t get any better, up popped the closing track, The Darkest Star. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a better example of how to end an album whilst still leaving a lasting impression, as this one is slow, prone to mood swings and is possibly the bleakest love song ever (can you really see Daniel O'Donnell singing “eternal outsider” and “seeing the world as a loaded gun”? Oh, not just me then). Even when the singing stops, the song carries on for another minute and a half, and doesn’t waste a second. All in all, this is a fantastic album, and repeated listenings only make it better. Honestly, I really thought their best days were behind them and here they are with only one of the finest albums they’ve ever done. That’s me told, then.