Depeche Get In The Mode
DEPECHE GET IN THE MODE
DEPECHE MODE: “Speak And Spell” (Mute MUTE5). By Sunie
Irresistible Depeches! They light up a dull chart landscape, put fizz into a flat format (“futurism”, forsooth), and Davy Gahan’s check suit puts the op back into pop. And all, apparently, without even trying.
Their chief skill lies in making their art sound artless; simple synthesiser melodies, Gahan’s tuneful but undramatic singing and a matter-of-fact, gimmick-free production all help achieve this unforced effect. But a good listen to their first LP reveals smartness beneath the simplicity. The whole thing opens with “New Life” and closes with “Just Can’t Get Enough”, a very tidy device. In between are eight sparkling songs and one instrumental, much to admire and little to disappoint.
“I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead” belies its precious title with an infectious swing and a boppy beat, while “Puppets” is a feast of Soft Cell-ish soul with the sinister catch-line: “I’ll be your operator, baby – I’m in control…” from here it’s a leap into the football chant intro of “Boys Say Go”, which conjures persuasive images of disco boys dancing (where I grew up, the best ones never danced with girls, only with each other) without descending to the trumpeting machismo of Me-And-The-Lads.
A classic Talking Heads line provides the jumping-off point for “Nodisco” (as in “this ain’t no party, this ain’t…), whose dancefloor beat avoids mundanity by virtue of the bounce and freshness that pervades all the Depeche catalogue.
“What’s Your Name” fairly jumps off the vinyl to proclaim itself The Next Single. Cheeky bubblegum backing vocals give added zest to the insanely catchy chorus: it’s a sure-fire monster hit. Upon hearing this prediction, a friend commented “Yeah, it’s moronic enough”, and in his way I dare say he’s right. Their detractors will call Depeche Mode shallow, I say show me the dancing feet that ever took notice of that sort of criticism. [1]
Side Two’s “Photographic” is like Numan at his best, but better; all the sinister phrases, both lyrical and musical, but with a rapid, danceable beat instead of the solemnity that Gazza always laid on with a sequinned trowel. “Tora! Tora! Tora!” covers similar ground; indeed, it must be said that side two is somewhat thinner than the never-fail first side.
However, the instrumental “Big Muff” and the gentle “Any Second Now”, with its delightful harmonies and chimes, are a high quality trail to follow into the inevitable “Just Can’t Get Enough”, a sublime single which I never seem to tire of.
In short, then: a charming, cheeky collection of compulsive dance tunes, bubbly and brief like the best pop should be. Get in the Mode! + + + + +
DEPECHE GET IN THE MODE
DEPECHE MODE: “Speak And Spell” (Mute MUTE5). By Sunie
Irresistible Depeches! They light up a dull chart landscape, put fizz into a flat format (“futurism”, forsooth), and Davy Gahan’s check suit puts the op back into pop. And all, apparently, without even trying.
Their chief skill lies in making their art sound artless; simple synthesiser melodies, Gahan’s tuneful but undramatic singing and a matter-of-fact, gimmick-free production all help achieve this unforced effect. But a good listen to their first LP reveals smartness beneath the simplicity. The whole thing opens with “New Life” and closes with “Just Can’t Get Enough”, a very tidy device. In between are eight sparkling songs and one instrumental, much to admire and little to disappoint.
“I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead” belies its precious title with an infectious swing and a boppy beat, while “Puppets” is a feast of Soft Cell-ish soul with the sinister catch-line: “I’ll be your operator, baby – I’m in control…” from here it’s a leap into the football chant intro of “Boys Say Go”, which conjures persuasive images of disco boys dancing (where I grew up, the best ones never danced with girls, only with each other) without descending to the trumpeting machismo of Me-And-The-Lads.
A classic Talking Heads line provides the jumping-off point for “Nodisco” (as in “this ain’t no party, this ain’t…), whose dancefloor beat avoids mundanity by virtue of the bounce and freshness that pervades all the Depeche catalogue.
“What’s Your Name” fairly jumps off the vinyl to proclaim itself The Next Single. Cheeky bubblegum backing vocals give added zest to the insanely catchy chorus: it’s a sure-fire monster hit. Upon hearing this prediction, a friend commented “Yeah, it’s moronic enough”, and in his way I dare say he’s right. Their detractors will call Depeche Mode shallow, I say show me the dancing feet that ever took notice of that sort of criticism. [1]
Side Two’s “Photographic” is like Numan at his best, but better; all the sinister phrases, both lyrical and musical, but with a rapid, danceable beat instead of the solemnity that Gazza always laid on with a sequinned trowel. “Tora! Tora! Tora!” covers similar ground; indeed, it must be said that side two is somewhat thinner than the never-fail first side.
However, the instrumental “Big Muff” and the gentle “Any Second Now”, with its delightful harmonies and chimes, are a high quality trail to follow into the inevitable “Just Can’t Get Enough”, a sublime single which I never seem to tire of.
In short, then: a charming, cheeky collection of compulsive dance tunes, bubbly and brief like the best pop should be. Get in the Mode! + + + + +
