DEPECHE MODE ‘The Singles 81-85’ (Mute MUTEL1)
[Record Mirror, 19th October 1985, Words: Lesley O'Toole.]
‘Dreaming Of Me’. Dreaming of those halcyon (?) days of New Romanticism, when the Deps were pretty darned hip and Martin Gore looked vaguely masculine.
‘New Life’. The new life was the pop star life. The single was a new, vibrant pop sound in ’81. Still sparking in ’85. Makes me shudder, though, remembering a stiletto-clad pogoer at a fateful DM gig. The sprightly young thing proceeded to drill a hole in my foot to the strains of this ‘un.
‘Just Can’t Get Enough’. Just couldn’t get enough. A frequent dancefloor filler at flagging parties, when every last drop of alcohol had been downed. Ah, the memories.
‘See You’. Ta ra, Vince. Manly Martin’s first stab as songwriter, a superlative one it was, too. Startlingly simple but effective. A classic.
‘Get The Balance Right’ opined Basildon’s bravest, but did they heed their own lyrics? Nah. Pedantry creeps in.
‘People Are People’ and Depeche Mode are only human. Like all great authorial talents, they dry up, hit mental blocks, exhaust their verbiage. Painfully infantile.
‘Blasphemous Rumours’. What’s up with MG? The advent of the nifty little leather numbers saw the crucifixion of the big, brash beat.
‘Shake The Disease’ and I’ll shake off the cynicism. The frilly shirts may be gathering dust but the Deps have never looked like retiring to the closet.
[Record Mirror, 19th October 1985, Words: Lesley O'Toole.]
‘Dreaming Of Me’. Dreaming of those halcyon (?) days of New Romanticism, when the Deps were pretty darned hip and Martin Gore looked vaguely masculine.
‘New Life’. The new life was the pop star life. The single was a new, vibrant pop sound in ’81. Still sparking in ’85. Makes me shudder, though, remembering a stiletto-clad pogoer at a fateful DM gig. The sprightly young thing proceeded to drill a hole in my foot to the strains of this ‘un.
‘Just Can’t Get Enough’. Just couldn’t get enough. A frequent dancefloor filler at flagging parties, when every last drop of alcohol had been downed. Ah, the memories.
‘See You’. Ta ra, Vince. Manly Martin’s first stab as songwriter, a superlative one it was, too. Startlingly simple but effective. A classic.
‘Get The Balance Right’ opined Basildon’s bravest, but did they heed their own lyrics? Nah. Pedantry creeps in.
‘People Are People’ and Depeche Mode are only human. Like all great authorial talents, they dry up, hit mental blocks, exhaust their verbiage. Painfully infantile.
‘Blasphemous Rumours’. What’s up with MG? The advent of the nifty little leather numbers saw the crucifixion of the big, brash beat.
‘Shake The Disease’ and I’ll shake off the cynicism. The frilly shirts may be gathering dust but the Deps have never looked like retiring to the closet.