Depeche Mode - Going U.P.! (Smash Hits, 1981) | dmremix.pro

Depeche Mode Going U.P.! (Smash Hits, 1981)

demoderus

Well-known member
Administrator
Going U.P.!
[Smash Hits, 9th-22nd July 1981. Words: Steve Taylor. Pictures: Jill Furmanovsky / Paul Slattery.]

smh090781_c.jpgsmh090781_1.jpgsmh090781_2.jpg

English text 1
English text 2
Polish translation
 
Last edited:

demoderus

Well-known member
Administrator
Often-quoted article on the band shortly after the release of New Life. The band are all in good spirits, coming across as new but not, as was soon to be the case, painfully naive. Plenty of interesting historical details on their very early history, although nothing you won't know if you've read Stripped. Lyrics to New Life are also included.
" Dave Gahan, swaggering and laughing more than usual after a pint and a half of lunchtime lager, gets the slogan wrong: “We’re P&U”, he proclaims. Everyone looks baffled. “You know,” says Gahan, “pop and up.” Vince puts him right. “The phrase is U.P. and it stands for Ultrapop!” "
GOING U.P.!
ULTRAPOP THAT IS. DEPECHE MODE INVITE STEVE TAYLOR TO BASILDON FOR A SHORT COURSE IN ONE U.P.MANSHIP*
[1]

“When Simon Bates introduces us on Top Of The Pops”, Depeche Mode’s singer Dave Gahan is saying on the afternoon before their television debut, “he makes a special point about us coming from Basildon – why?” “Because nothing good ever comes out of here?” [2] suggests one of Gahan’s three synthesiser playing colleagues, Martin Gore. We all ponder for a minute or two, perched up here in a tacky plastic-lined pub above the concrete shopping mall. Silence. Next question.

Basildon deserves special mention as one of those sprawling new-ish towns built to house London’s “overspill” population in the post-war period. Like Basingstoke, it stands in some people’s eyes as a cliché for soul-less suburban development around a boring – the word is “alienating” – centre where the entertainment is hard to find. The very stuff of Plays For Today. The very stuff, you might be forgiven for thinking, of classic Urban Synthesiser Gloom.

Well, here’s the surprise; not that Depeche Mode come from somewhere like Basildon, but the fact that they play frothy adolescent pop – with a tinge of moodiness, sure, but nothing that would qualify them for the Throbbing Gristle award for making the listener feel more suicidal than ever before.

Depeche Mode have a little joke about it. Vince Clark [sic] calls the other camp of synthesiser bands “B&I”, standing for “bleak and industrial”. Dave Gahan, swaggering and laughing more than usual after a pint and a half of lunchtime lager, gets the slogan wrong: “We’re P&U”, he proclaims. Everyone looks baffled. “You know,” says Gahan, “pop and up.” Vince puts him right. “The phrase is U.P. and it stands for Ultrapop!”.

They have every reason to be cheerful right now, having achieved the enviable exposure of a Top Of The Pops slot – with an independent label single, mind – and having become one of the subjects of a forthcoming “Twentieth Century Box” on London Weekend Television within only a year of first playing together.

Within the last few months they’ve all given up whatever stopped them being Depeche Mode full-time. Gahan was politely asked to leave college, where he was studying window dressing; Clark’s fellow synthesiser players Martin Gore and Andrew Fletcher gave up their jobs as bank clerk and insurance clerk. Vince – “I’m a Vince Clark” – with least to lose, signed off the dole. [3] With a cheap and portable stage set-up they now live solely on income from gigs – a fact which they’re justly proud of. [4]

“We’ve got no transport costs really,” explains Gahan, “all our gear goes in the car. We don’t employ any roadies. So if we get paid £250 for a gig and £50 goes on hiring the PA, we can come out of it with a reasonable amount each. Everything about us is independent, even the promotion for the new record we hired ourselves.

“Dreaming Of Me”, Depeche Mode’s last single on the Mute label, reached number fifty-seven in the singles charts and number one in the independent singles. “We’re going to be The Beatles of the indies,” crows Fletcher in a fit of bravado.

This is all a long way from the scene less than a year ago when Gahan remembers he stood outside the venue for their first performance as a four-piece, Nicholas School where Fletcher and Gore had been pupils. “You spent half an hour outside trying to calm down,” says Fletcher. “You had about ten cans of lager.” All Gahan can remember is repeatedly saying to himself, “I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to do it.”

The three instrumentalists were old hands at this, having played all of two gigs as a trio of bass and two synths – once at Scamps in Southend and another at “Deb Danahay’s party”. Vince isn’t going to let anyone ask a fool question like “What were they like?” “They weren’t even minor successes,” he says. Andrew puts Vince’s reassessment in context: “The crowd didn’t react so Vince lost his temper with them – plugs were kicked out.” “There were a lot of fourteen-year-olds,” adds Martin, “who’d never seen a synth before, so they were fiddling with the knobs going ‘What does this do?’.”

Not that the three of them had been introduced to the synthesiser that long before. Vince and Andrew had their musical baptism in a gospel folk duo which played the local churches and clubs; Martin, who still goes to Methodist church once a month, was the guitarist in a middle-of-the-road West Coast orientated band which played “nice songs”.

So, though they were too young to be early 1970s glitter kids and readily admit to not having been diehard punks, they were all musically involved enough to be touched by crucial innovations. As Clark says, “You appreciate things much more when they’re past.” Gahan describes the band’s tastes as running “from folk to P.I.L.”.

“Punk,” says Clark, “wasn’t all good, but the enthusiasm…”

Fletcher takes up the thread: “We’ve always liked groups like Roxy and people like Bowie who kept their respectability.”

“Electronic music,” says Vince, “connected the two, Roxy and punk. We liked groups that used synthesisers – OMD, Human League, Gary Numan – that was what we were listening to at the time we got together. And,” he concludes with a grin, “synthesisers are very easy to get a good sound on.”

With the arrival of Gahan, who they heard crooning Bowie’s “Heroes” at a jam session with another band, their distinctive style began to shape up and audiences reacted accordingly. Gahan recalls their four-piece debut at the Top Alex, a Southend pub that’s normally an R&B stronghold: “We went down really well – they were banging their heads to our pop.”

Circulating an early demo tape got them a valuable few gigs, mostly at the Bridge House in London’s Canning Town – “Terry, the promoter there, was the only bloke who believed in us then” – and at Crocs in nearby Rayleigh. “We must have played at Crocs fifteen times,” says Fletcher, “and that gave us a lot of encouragement; we weren’t really nervous any more.” “Speak for yourself,” bounces back Gahan.

Crocs was also the place where their audience first started dressing up in frills and makeup, though now Gahan says that’s toned down: “Everyone’s not trying so hard to be different from one another, it’s smarter.” The band have swopped their cute Romanticism for macho leathers at the moment, though Gahan says it’s not a policy decision, they just go for “anything that looks good.”

The Bridge House, meanwhile, set them on the path for Top Of The Pops. They met Daniel Miller, the unassuming proprietor of Mute Records and an aficionado of electronic pop, there and were eventually invited to do a one-off single. After doing the dispiriting rounds of the major labels, Miller was “the first one we could trust; he said that if either party didn’t like the other, we’d call it a day.”

The imminent success of “New Life” and the fact that the formerly indifferent majors have suddenly started “finding” Depeche Mode’s demo tape and ’phone number is a great confidence booster for both the band and Miller. “All the majors told him he wasn’t going to make it and he’s proved them wrong,” says Gahan. “And as for us, so far things have just happened – and at this rate we’re happy just to let them keep happening.”

[1] - The magazine's footnote at this point reads: "Hello, me again. Well, I took the pills like he said but I'm no better. I'm sure they only do it to get rid of you. Next time I shall demand to see the specialist. A person in my condition shouldn't be forced to sit here all day thinking up headlines..."
[2] - Martin might have said he was never Christian, but this is his church upbringing showing through as he's paraphrased, no doubt intentionally, John 1:46: " "Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?" Nathanael asked." (NIV).
[3] - Vince Clarke's real surname is in fact Martin. The Clarke pseudonym was to avoid getting fingered for illegally claiming unemployment benefit in Depeche Mode's very early days.
[4] - It would take trepidation by any standards, but in 1981 unemployment was rocketing. Had Depeche Mode not worked out, their chances of getting a half decent job again within a reasonable time was pretty much nil, which makes leaving their jobs a huge leap of faith in themselves.
 
Last edited:

demoderus

Well-known member
Administrator
Smash Hits
Date: July 1981
Description: Magazine anglais, disparu aujourd'hui
Pays: Royaume-Uni
 

Attachments

  • 0.jpg
    0.jpg
    177.5 KB · Views: 237
  • 11.jpg
    11.jpg
    200.7 KB · Views: 147

demoderus

Well-known member
Administrator
Smash Hits 9.7.1981
'Going Up' by Steve Taylor. Pictures by Paul Slattery.

GOING U.P. !
ULTRAPOP THAT IS. DEPECHE MODE INVITE STEVE TAYLOR TO BASILDON FOR A SHORT COURSE IN ONE U.P.MANSHIP


"WHEN SIMON Bates introduces us on Top Of The Pops," Depeche Mode's singer Dave Gahan is saying on the afternoon before their television debut, "he makes a special point about us coming from Basildon--why?" "Because nothing good ever comes out of here?" suggests one of Gahan's three synthesiser playing colleagues, Martin Gore. We all ponder for a minute or two, perched up here in a tacky plastic-lined pub above the concrete shopping mall. Silence. Next question.

Basildon deserves special mention as one of those sprawling new-ish towns built to house London's 'overspill' population in the post-war period. Like Basingstoke, it stands in some people's eyes as a cliche for soul-less suburban development around a boring--the word is 'alienating'--centre where the entertainment is hard to find. The very stuff of Plays For Today. The very stuff, you might be forgiven for thinking, of classic Urban Synthesiser Gloom.

Well, here's the surprise; not that Depeche Mode come from somewhere like Basildon, but the fact that they play frothy adolescent pop--with a tinge of moodiness, sure, but nothing that would qualify them for the Throbbing Gristle award for making the listener feel more suicidal than ever before.

Depeche Mode have a little joke about it. Vince Clark calls the other camp of synthesiser bands "B&I", standing for "bleak and industrial." Dave Gahan, swaggering and laughing more than usual after a pint and a half of lunchtime lager, gets the slogan wrong: "We're P&U", he proclaims. Everyone looks baffled. "You know," says Gahan, "pop and up." Vince puts him right. "The phrase is U.P. and it stands for Ultrapop!".

They have every reason to be cheerful right now, having achieved the enviable exposure of a Top Of The Pops slot--with an independent label single, mind--and having become one of the subjects of a forthcoming "Twentieth Century Box" on London Weekend Television within only a year of first playing together.


WITHIN THE last few months they've all given up whatever stopped them being Depeche Mode full-time. Gahan was politely asked to leave college, where he was studying shop window dressing; Clark's fellow synthesiser players Martin Gore and Andrew Fletcher gave up their jobs as bank clerk and insurance clerk. Vince--"I'm a Vince Clark"--with least to lose, signed off the dole. With a cheap and portable stage set-up they now survive solely on income from gigs--a fact which they're justly proud of.

"We've got no transport costs really," explains Gahan, "all our gear goes in the car. We don't employ any roadies. So if we get paid 250 for a gig and 50 goes on hiring the PA, we can come out of it with a reasonable amount each. Everything about us is independent, even the promotion for the new record we hired ourselves.

"Dreaming Of Me", Depeche Mode's last single on the Mute label, reached number fifty-seven in the singles charts and number one in the independent singles. "We're going to be The Beatles of the indies," crows Fletcher in a fit of bravado.

This is all a long way from the scene less than a year ago when Gahan remembers he stood outside the venue for their first performance as a four-piece, Nicholas School where Fletcher and Gore had been pupils. "You spent half an hour outside trying to calm down," says Fletcher. "You had about ten cans of lager." All Gahan can remember is repeatedly saying to himself, "I don't want to do it, I don't want to do it."

The three instrumentalists were old hands at this, having played all of two gigs as a trio of bass and two synths--once at Scamps in Southend and another at "Deb Danahay's party". Vince isn't going to let anyone ask a fool question like "What were they like?" "They weren't even minor successes," he says. Andrew puts Vince's assessment in context: "The crowd didn't react so Vince lost his temper with them--plugs were kicked out." "There were a lot of fourteen-year-olds," adds Martin, "who'd never seen a synth before, so they were fiddling with the knobs going 'What does this do?'."

Not that the three of them had been introduced to the synthesiser that long before. Vince and Andrew had their musical baptism in a gospel folk duo which played the local churches and youth clubs; Martin, who still goes to Methodist church once a month, was the guitarist in a middle-of-the-road West Coast orientated band which played "nice songs."

So, though they were too young to be early 1970s glitter kids and readily admit to not having been diehard punks, they were all musically involved enough to be touched by crucial innovations. As Clark says, "You appreciate things much more when they're past." Gahan describes the band's tastes as running "from folk to P.I.L.". "Punk," says Clark, "wasn't all good, but the enthusiasm..."

Fletcher takes up the thread: "We've always liked groups like Roxy and people like Bowie who kept their respectability." "Electronic music," says Vince, "connected the two, Roxy and punk." We liked groups that used synthesisers--OMD, Human League, Gary Numan--that was what we were listening to at the time we got together. And," he concludes with a grin, "synthesisers are very easy to get a good sound on."


WITH THE arrival of Gahan, who they heard crooning Bowie's "Heroes" at a jam session with another band, their distinctive style began to shape up and audiences reacted accordingly. Gahan recalls their four-piece debut at the Top Alex, a Southend pub that's normally an R&B stronghold: "We went down really well--they were banging their heads to our pop."

Circulating an early demo tape got them a valuable few gigs, mostly at the Bridge House In London's Canning Town--"Terry, the promoter there, was the only bloke who bellieved in us then"--and at Crocs in nearby Rayleigh. "We must have played at Crocs fifteen times," says Fletcher. "and that gave us a lot of encouragement; we weren't really nervous any more." "Speak for yourself," bounces back Gahan.

Crocs was also the place where their audience first started dressing up in frills and makeup, though now Gahan says that's toned down: "Everyone's not trying so hard to be different from one another, it's smarter." The band have swopped their cute Romanticism for macho leathers at the moment, though Gahan says it's not a policy decision, they just go for "anything that looks good."

The Bridge House, meanwhile, set them on the path for Top Of The Pops. They met Daniel Miller, the unassuming proprietor of Mute Records and an afficionado of electronic pop there and were eventually invited to do a one-off single. After doing the dispiriting rounds of the major labels, Miller was "the flrst one we could trust; he said that if either party didn't like the other, we'd call it a day."

The imminent success of "New Life" and the fact that the formerly indifferent majors have suddenly started "finding" Depeche Mode's demo tape and 'phone number is a great confidence booster for both the band and Miller. "All the majors told him he wasn't going to make it and he's proved them wrong," says Gahan. "And as for us, so far things have just happened--and at this rate we're happy to just let them keep happening."

NEW LIFE

I stand still stepping on A shady STREET
And I watch that man to a stranger
Think you only know me when you turn on the light
Now the room is lit RED danger

chorus

Transition to another place
So the time will pass more slowly
Your features fuse and your shadow's red
Like a film I SEE, now show me

Chorus

MY face is hidden and we're out of sight
and the road just leads to nowhere
The stranger in the door is the same as before
So the question ANSWERS nowhere

...
 

Attachments

  • going-1.gif
    going-1.gif
    137.2 KB · Views: 173
  • going-2.gif
    going-2.gif
    28.6 KB · Views: 179
  • going-3.gif
    going-3.gif
    21.6 KB · Views: 159
  • going-4.gif
    going-4.gif
    19.7 KB · Views: 153
  • going-5.gif
    going-5.gif
    19.5 KB · Views: 156

demoderus

Well-known member
Administrator

GOING U. P. !​

Uwaga ! moje komentarze oznaczone są : *** !
*** (Zabawa z językiem - going up ! - idą w górę !, going u. p. - zamiast słówka up jest skrót u. p. którego znaczenie wyjaśni się w poniżej (u.p. - ultra pop; pol. s.p. - skrajny pop)). ***
TO JEST SKRAJNY POP. DEPECHE MODE ZAPRASZA STEVE'A TAYLORA DO BASILDON NA KRÓTKI KURS W ICH TOWARZYSTWIE.
*** ciężko jest przetłumaczyć rzeczownik "manship", robię to na wyczucie bo nie ma go w żadnym słowniku. Wydaje mi się, że jest to coś jak "męskie towarzystwo", cóż ciężko wyczuć. :) ) ***

"Kiedy Simon Bates przedstawiał nas w Top Of The Pops," - wokalista Depeche Mode, Dave Gahan mówi popołudniem, przed ich telewizyjnym debiutem - "specjalnie podkreślał, że pochodzimy z Basildon, dlaczego ?"
"Być może dlatego, że nie powstało tu nigdy nic dobrego ?" - sugeruje jeden z jego trzech grających na syntezatorach kolegów, Martin Gore. Zastanawialiśmy się nad tym przez chwilę lub dwie usadawiając się w lepkim, wyłożonym plastikiem pubie znajdującym się przy betonowym deptaku handlowym. Cisza. Następne pytanie.
Basildon zasługuje na wzmiankę jako jedno z tych nowoczesnych, rozlazłych miast zbudowanych w powojennych czasach, aby pomieścić gdzieś nie mieszczącą się w mieście populację Londynu. Podobnie jak Basingstoke, jawi się w oczach niektórych ludzi jako bezduszne, rozwijające się wokół nudnego - choć lepszym słowem byłoby odstręczającego - centrum, gdzie próżno by szukać jakiejś rozrywki. Klasyczna Miejska Syntezatorowa Ponurość. I tu spotyka nas niespodzianka; ale nie to, że Depeche Mode pochodzą z takiego miejsca jak Basildon, ale fakt, że choć grają młodzieńczy, pusty pop - z lekkim odcieniem nastrojowości, to nic nie wskazuje na to, że słuchający ich muzyki byłby bardziej skłonny popełnić samobójstwo niż kiedykolwiek wcześniej. Depeche Mode żartują z tego. Vince Clarke określa obóz innych syntezatorowych zespołów jako "P & P" czyli "Przygnębiający i Przemysłowi". Dave Gahan bardziej radosny niż zwykle po wypiciu półtora kufla piwa Źle zrozumiał slogan i stwierdził : "My jesteśmy P & S " . Wszyscy spojrzeli na niego zdziwieni. "No wiecie" - powiedział Dave - "Pop i Sięgający wyżej !" Vince poprawił go : "Skrót brzmi S. P. - czyli Skrajny Pop ! ". A mają z czego się cieszyć, bo po godnym pozazdroszczenia przedstawieniu w "Top Of The Pops" - nagranego przecież w niezależnej wytwórni singla - wystąpią również w nadchodzącym show telewizyjnym "Twentieth Century Box" i to już po tylko roku grania ze sobą.

Podczas ostatnich miesięcy zarzucili wszystko to, co nie pozwalało im być Depeche Mode w pełnym wymiarze godzin. Gahan został grzecznie poproszony aby opuścił college, gdzie studiował aranżację witryn sklepowych; grający na syntezatorach koledzy Clarke'a Martin Gore i Andrew Fletcher porzucili swoje prace - urzędnika bankowego i ubezpieczeniowego. Vince - "Ja jestem Vince Clarke" - mający najmniej do stracenia przestał pobierać zasiłek dla bezrobotnych. Z tanim i przenośnym wyposażeniem scenowym są teraz w stanie utrzymać się jedynie z dochodów pochodzących z koncertów - i są z tego bardzo dumni. "Nie mamy kosztownego transportu" - wyjaśnia Gahan - "Wszystkie nasze instrumenty mieszczą się w samochodzie. Nie zatrudniamy kierowców. I tak jeśli dostajemy 250 funtów za koncert, to po odliczeniu 50 funtów kosztów,

*** (? nie wiem niestety, co oznacza skrót PA - być może ochronę, koszty wynajmu sali, obsługę... - Jacek) ***
każdy z nas dostaje całkiem rozsądną sumkę. Działamy niezależnie, nawet nowe nagranie promowaliśmy sami.". "Dreaming Of Me", ostatni singiel Depeche Mode wydany przez Mute Records, osiągnął miejsce 57 na krajowej liście singli, a pierwsze na liście wytwórni niezależnych. "Będziemy Beatlesami

*** (tu jest kolejne słowo, którego nie ma w żadnym słowniku indies - najbliższe jemu to "Indies" występujące ze słowami "East ~" i "West ~" i oznaczające Indie Wschodnie i Zachodnie. Myślę, że chodziło Fletcherowi o samo określenie wschodu - ot choćby dlatego, że Basildon leży na wschód od Liverpoolu gdzie powstali The Beatles. Chyba - Jacek :).) ***
wschodu !" - tryumfalnie oznajmił Andrew Fletcher będąc w nieco kozackim nastroju. Teraz mglistym wspomnieniem jest już scenka sprzed mniej więcej roku, gdy mieli zagrać pierwszy koncert w czteroosobowym składzie, w szkole Martina i Andrew - Nicholas School. Dave pamięta jedynie jak stał za sceną czekając na występ. "Spędziłeś około pół godziny uspokajając się" - mówi Fletcher - "a byłeś już po dziesięciu piwach." Wszystko co Gahan sobie teraz przypomina to, że powtarzał sobie przez cały czas "Nie chcę tego robić, Nie chcę tego robić." Trzej pozostali instrumentaliści byli już wtedy zahartowani. Zagrali już dwa koncerty jako trio grając na dwóch syntezatorach i gitarze basowej. Odbyły się one w Scamps w dzielnicy Southend i na imprezie zwanej "Deb Danahay's Party". Vince nie pozwala nikomu zadawać głupich pytań w stylu "No i jak się udały te występy ?". "Nie były nawet minimalnym sukcesem." - mówi. Andrew wyjaśnia ocenę Vince'a : "Publiczność nie reagowała i Vince stracił cały zapał - wszystkie zabiegi spełzły na niczym.". "Było tam dużo czternastolatków," - dodaje Martin - "które nigdy przedtem nie widziały syntezatora i które kręciły gałkami, pytając : do czego ta służy ?"
Nie żeby trójka członków grupy poznała syntezatory dużo wcześniej. Vince i Andrew przeszli swój muzyczny chrzest w duecie gospel, który grywał w lokalnych kościołach i klubach młodzieżowych; Martin, który wciąż raz w miesiącu uczęszczał do kościoła Metodystów był wcześniej gitarzystą w zespole "grającym ładne piosenki". Tak więc, pomimo że byli za młodzi, aby być zagorzałymi fanami punka, byli jednak już na tyle muzycznie wprawieni, aby poruszyły ich decydujące zmiany jakie zachodziły w muzyce owych czasów. "Doceniasz rzeczy znacznie bardziej, gdy są już przeszłością" - zwykł mawiać Clarke. Gahan : "Słuchaliśmy wtedy wielu rzeczy, wliczając w to nawet folk". "Punk" - stwierdza Clarke - "nie był całkiem dobry, ale tej jego entuzjazm..." Fletcher ciągnąc ten wątek rozmowy : "Zawsze lubiliśmy zespoły takie jak Roxy i wykonawców takich jak Bowie, którzy cieszyli się poważaniem". "Muzyka elektroniczna," - mówi Vince - "łączy w sobie Roxy i punka. Lubiliśmy grupy używające syntezatorów - OMD, Human League, Gary Numan - tego właśnie słuchaliśmy w czasie, gdy zaczęliśmy grać ze sobą. A poza tym," - stwierdza z szyderczym uśmiechem na twarzy - "z syntezatorów bardzo łatwo wydobyć dobre brzmienie".
Po przyjęciu do zespołu Gahana, którego usłyszeli na jam session z inną grupą, gdzie wykonał zawodząco "Heroes" Bowie'go, zaczął kształtować się ich charakterystyczny styl, a publiczność zaczęła wreszcie odpowiednio reagować. Gahan przypomina ich debiut jako kwartetu w Top Alex, pubie na Southendzie : "Wypadliśmy naprawdę nieźle - wszyscy kiwali głowami w rytm naszej muzyki".

Dzięki nagranej taśmie demo udało się im załatwić kilka cennych koncertów, głównie w Bridge House w londyńskim Canning Town. "Tamtejszy promotor - Terry - był jedynym facetem, który wtedy w nas wierzył" - wspomina zespół. Innym miejscem gdzie zagrali był klub Crocs w pobliskim Rayleigh. "Zagraliśmy tam chyba z piętnaście razy" - mówi Fletcher - "co dodało nam sporej odwagi, więc nie byliśmy już potem ani razu zdenerwowani podczas występów...". " ...Mów za siebie !" - wtrąca natychmiast Gahan. Crocs było też miejscem, gdzie pierwszy raz ich publiczność zaczęła się ubierać w ciuchy z falbanami i malować, choć jak teraz twierdzi Gahan, ta moda zaczęła się zmieniać : "Wszyscy przestali tak mocno się starać, aby odróżniać się od pozostałych. To znacznie mądrzejsze." Grupa zmieniła wtedy swój słodziutki Romantyczny styl na skóry, choć jak stwierdził Gahan, nie była to celowa polityka. Po prostu chwytali wszystko "co dobrze wyglądało".

Występy w Bridge House otworzyły im drogę do "Top Of The Pops". Spotkali tam Daniela Millera, skromnego właściciela Mute Records i zostali ostatecznie zaproszeni do studia w celu nagrania pojedynczego singla. "Po odbyciu zniechęcającej rundy po dużych firmach nagraniowych Miller okazał się pierwszym, któremu mogliśmy zaufać; powiedział, że jeśli tylko coś nam nie będzie pasować, to w każdej chwili będziemy mogli odejść." - wspomina zespół. Wiszący już w powietrzu sukces "New Life" i fakt, że nagle wiele z wielkich wytwórni płytowych zaczęło gwałtownie poszukiwać taśmy demo Depeche Mode i ich numeru telefonicznego sprawia, że zarówno grupa jak i Miller czują się znacznie pewniej. "Wszyscy wielcy powiedzieli, że mu się nie uda, a on pokazał, że się mylili" - stwierdził Gahan - "A co do nas, sprawy przyjęły dobry obrót i bardzo zadowoleni pozwolimy im dalej iść w tym kierunku."
Tłumaczenie : Jacek Ślopek
 
Top