Depeche Mode
[The Sony Tape Rock Review, Rambletree Pelham, 1984. Words: David Dorrell (ed. Lesley-Ann Jones, Robin Eggar, Phil Swern). Pictures: Uncredited.]
Few bands nowadays are given the chance to change their colours midway through their career – yet Depeche Mode have made the transition from synth-poppers to agit-prop rockers with consummate ease and moreover, to much acclaim.
For too long the Basildon boy wonders were seen as nothing more than purveyors of an insipid score of bubblegum pop tunes. It seemed that the most important thing they had to debate was how to pronounce their name. But with the release of their album, Construction Time Again, they unleashed on unsuspecting pop world a vibrant score of socialist lyrics and heavyweight rhythms. [1] And suddenly they became the darlings of the press.
Depeche Mode’s inception began in the early days of 1980, when three school friends, Vince Clarke, Martin Gore (born June 23, 1961) and Andy Fletcher (born July 9, 1961) [2] played around with the bass, guitar and drums under the name of Composition of Sound. Failing to make much progress on a conventional level, they decided to make moves towards the vogue for synthesisers. The New Romantics had just hit the clubs with their hearts on their sleeves and everything, everywhere, seemed geared toward the rising star of ‘electro-pop’. The chips were down and the stakes were high. With the addition of a gawky young chap called David Gahan (born June 9, 1962) [2] and a quick change of name to Depeche Mode (literally ‘hurried fashion’) the new town wonders were in the running.
Their first gig was at The Bridgehouse and after a week’s residency there, supporting Fad Gadget, they were spotted by a young DJ called Stevo. Stevo’s addiction to the new futurist sound led him to release a compilation LP titled Some Bizzare, which featured such (then) unknowns as Soft Cell, Blancmange and B-Movie. As luck would have it, Deoeche Mode also found a slot. Their track Photographic, though still rough, was one of the best on the slate.
But their biggest break was meeting producer Daniel Miller, who had seen them at The Bridgehouse and was intent on signing them to his growing indie label, Mute Records. Their first release for Mute was Dreaming Of Me (February 1981), which scored a creditable top 60 placing, caught as it was on the first wave of synth-pop chart success. Their second single New Life catapulted them to Number 11 and, with Just Can’t Get Enough, their rise from small town creed to Big City sound seemed complete. Yet, just as they were on their way, Vince Clarke, founder member and songwriter of all their material, upped and left. Purportedly because of his feeling of restriction within the group, it was a sharp blow to the young and still inexperienced lads.
Vince, a particularly gifted musician (and a bit older than his erstwhile colleagues), wasted no time in making moves elsewhere and by the summer of 1982 he had formed a winning partnership with the big blues singer ‘Alf’ Moyet. Yazoo were a hit. With the demise of Yazoo in the summer of ’83, Vince set up a new project with Eric Radcliffe and former Undertones man Feargal Sharkey, called The Assembly.
Although Vince had written all but two of the tracks on their debut LP, Speak And Spell, the mantle of songwriter immediately fell upon Martin Gore, who handled the role with a capability far outstripping his age. His first single See You went to Number Six in the charts and was proof enough that the Mode could manage without their former songwriter.
Augmented by Vince’s replacement, Alan Wilder (born June 1, 1959), the band toured America and the Orient, making noticeable inroads into the fierce Japanese market. At home, their young charm and schoolboyish looks kept them high in the charts with Meaning Of Love, Leave In Silence and their second LP, Broken Frame. But their angelic looks failed to find them favour with the press. Their fall from grace centred on their ability to seemingly float by, releasing an album here, a pop-ditty there. It was as if there was no real substance, as if they were nothing but ‘hurried fashion’ after all – and one that had outstayed its welcome.
Fully aware of this fact, Martin Gore decided to let slip the façade of eternal youth and busied himself with writing a harder, more politically committed set for the third album Construction Time Again. [3] The first augury of the band’s new direction came with the powerful and accusatory tone of Everything Counts, which reached Number Six in the charts, their biggest hit for a year and a half. The general nature of Construction was even harder hitting. The cover depicted a well built worker, sledge hammer in hand, looming large over a mountain top. Its themes of international socialism and world depression, married to a fine pop sensibility, caught the feelings of a nation and resulted in their best work to date.
As if this was not enough (the album went to Number Six), the follow up singles Love In Itself (lifted from the album) and People Are People both went top twenty (the latter reaching Number Four in March ’84 – their highest placing so far).
As to whether they can capitalise on their success remains to be seen, but with Construction Time Again under their belts they’re already walking down the right road.
[The Sony Tape Rock Review, Rambletree Pelham, 1984. Words: David Dorrell (ed. Lesley-Ann Jones, Robin Eggar, Phil Swern). Pictures: Uncredited.]
Reasonable, if condensed, piece detailing the band's career up to early 1984. The piece gives more in the way of a general outline than colourful details due to the obvious space constraints and as such comes across a little bland, but as a quick resume for someone new to the band, the main points are there.
" It seemed that the most important thing they had to debate was how to pronounce their name. But with the release of their album, Construction Time Again, they unleashed on unsuspecting pop world a vibrant score of socialist lyrics and heavyweight rhythms. "
Few bands nowadays are given the chance to change their colours midway through their career – yet Depeche Mode have made the transition from synth-poppers to agit-prop rockers with consummate ease and moreover, to much acclaim.
For too long the Basildon boy wonders were seen as nothing more than purveyors of an insipid score of bubblegum pop tunes. It seemed that the most important thing they had to debate was how to pronounce their name. But with the release of their album, Construction Time Again, they unleashed on unsuspecting pop world a vibrant score of socialist lyrics and heavyweight rhythms. [1] And suddenly they became the darlings of the press.
Depeche Mode’s inception began in the early days of 1980, when three school friends, Vince Clarke, Martin Gore (born June 23, 1961) and Andy Fletcher (born July 9, 1961) [2] played around with the bass, guitar and drums under the name of Composition of Sound. Failing to make much progress on a conventional level, they decided to make moves towards the vogue for synthesisers. The New Romantics had just hit the clubs with their hearts on their sleeves and everything, everywhere, seemed geared toward the rising star of ‘electro-pop’. The chips were down and the stakes were high. With the addition of a gawky young chap called David Gahan (born June 9, 1962) [2] and a quick change of name to Depeche Mode (literally ‘hurried fashion’) the new town wonders were in the running.
Their first gig was at The Bridgehouse and after a week’s residency there, supporting Fad Gadget, they were spotted by a young DJ called Stevo. Stevo’s addiction to the new futurist sound led him to release a compilation LP titled Some Bizzare, which featured such (then) unknowns as Soft Cell, Blancmange and B-Movie. As luck would have it, Deoeche Mode also found a slot. Their track Photographic, though still rough, was one of the best on the slate.
But their biggest break was meeting producer Daniel Miller, who had seen them at The Bridgehouse and was intent on signing them to his growing indie label, Mute Records. Their first release for Mute was Dreaming Of Me (February 1981), which scored a creditable top 60 placing, caught as it was on the first wave of synth-pop chart success. Their second single New Life catapulted them to Number 11 and, with Just Can’t Get Enough, their rise from small town creed to Big City sound seemed complete. Yet, just as they were on their way, Vince Clarke, founder member and songwriter of all their material, upped and left. Purportedly because of his feeling of restriction within the group, it was a sharp blow to the young and still inexperienced lads.
Vince, a particularly gifted musician (and a bit older than his erstwhile colleagues), wasted no time in making moves elsewhere and by the summer of 1982 he had formed a winning partnership with the big blues singer ‘Alf’ Moyet. Yazoo were a hit. With the demise of Yazoo in the summer of ’83, Vince set up a new project with Eric Radcliffe and former Undertones man Feargal Sharkey, called The Assembly.
Although Vince had written all but two of the tracks on their debut LP, Speak And Spell, the mantle of songwriter immediately fell upon Martin Gore, who handled the role with a capability far outstripping his age. His first single See You went to Number Six in the charts and was proof enough that the Mode could manage without their former songwriter.
Augmented by Vince’s replacement, Alan Wilder (born June 1, 1959), the band toured America and the Orient, making noticeable inroads into the fierce Japanese market. At home, their young charm and schoolboyish looks kept them high in the charts with Meaning Of Love, Leave In Silence and their second LP, Broken Frame. But their angelic looks failed to find them favour with the press. Their fall from grace centred on their ability to seemingly float by, releasing an album here, a pop-ditty there. It was as if there was no real substance, as if they were nothing but ‘hurried fashion’ after all – and one that had outstayed its welcome.
Fully aware of this fact, Martin Gore decided to let slip the façade of eternal youth and busied himself with writing a harder, more politically committed set for the third album Construction Time Again. [3] The first augury of the band’s new direction came with the powerful and accusatory tone of Everything Counts, which reached Number Six in the charts, their biggest hit for a year and a half. The general nature of Construction was even harder hitting. The cover depicted a well built worker, sledge hammer in hand, looming large over a mountain top. Its themes of international socialism and world depression, married to a fine pop sensibility, caught the feelings of a nation and resulted in their best work to date.
As if this was not enough (the album went to Number Six), the follow up singles Love In Itself (lifted from the album) and People Are People both went top twenty (the latter reaching Number Four in March ’84 – their highest placing so far).
As to whether they can capitalise on their success remains to be seen, but with Construction Time Again under their belts they’re already walking down the right road.
[1] - Oh no, not that old chestnut, even if it wasn't old at the time. Depeche Mode sing about ethical concerns (human rights, ecology, religion) so they must be reds! This 1983 article has a lot to answer for on that one, but by the end of 1984 and the release of more material, the press was starting to get a clearer idea and the image was getting soundly punctured.
[2] - Both birth dates are wrong. Martin was born on 23rd July 1961, and Andy on 8th July 1961. Later on there's another clanger with Dave's birthday, which is actually 9th May 1962.
[3] - I think the author is giving the band the benefit of the doubt here, or maybe in 1984 the band had yet to evaluate this time of their career with the benefit of hindsight. The fact is that Martin and the others have consistently said in later years that they didn't quite realise how naive they were - when Vince left they never thought twice about bashing on with more songs, and in retrospect had they done so they might well have quit. While the music hardened up noticeably, their image problems remained awful well into 1983 - it must have been difficult for reviewers to take on board the clanking and banging of Construction Time Again when it came from four nice lads in windcheaters and woolies.
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