Greatness And Perfection
[Melody Maker, 29th September 1984. Words: Barry McIlheney. Picture: Uncredited.]
GREATNESS AND PERFECTION
And to think that not so long ago Depeche Mode were regarded as a bit of a joke. Those desperately shallow early singles, the tedium of the TV appearances, the sheer monotony of most of the “Speak And Spell” live show. And then a very strange thing happened.
Suddenly, the Basildon boys took a quick look at what they were doing, decided to dump it in the nearest garbage can, and emerged into the brand new daylight with a body of truly wonderful songs, topped by a hat which has “politically aware” written all over it.
With the dubious benefit of hindsight, it is now clear that the departure from the ranks of Vince Clarke was an almighty blessing in disguise, freeing the massive songwriting potential of young Martin Gore. Under his guidance, Britain’s finest exponents of the beast known as electropop developed into something that even their most loyal supporters from the salad days could not have thought possible. Namely, a band that was truly popular and populist all at the same time, and one which threw in the odd dose of proletarian consciousness just for good measure.
As hit followed hit followed hit, it suddenly became clear that we were looking at a most remarkable phenomenon. Good God, I do believe that we are talking about a sparkling Eighties version of the Jam.
There is a truly remarkable development in the Voice of Gahan. He’s either been hiding the old tonsils underneath a very big bush for the last few years, or else some rather serious lessons have been taken in recent months. [1] Either way, the end result is a most strange kind of wonderful, with a deeper, more mellow croon now dominating the proceedings. It’s apparent right from the word go, with “Something To Do” proudly pushing it right up into the front of the mix, as if to say “well here you are now ladies and gentlemen, this is what you all wet your pants over in the bad old days”.
As if all that isn’t quite enough to be thinking about, “Lie To Me” suddenly booms out of the speakers with what I swear to George Clinton sounds very like a Funkadelic breed of slapping bass smeared all over the place. Indeed, it says quite a bit about the general standard of the first five in a row here that “People Are People” sticks out only through its relative mediocrity.
Gore has always said that “Some Great Reward” heralds a return to the more poppy side of things, but what he forgot to mention was that this seemingly retrogressive step would actually include (deep breath) ballads. That’s right, slow songs, songs that meander around all over the place, songs a million miles removed from the standard frenetic dash of the early product.
“It Doesn’t Matter” and “Stories Of Old” are splendidly pathetic in the true sense of the word, the one sounding vaguely OMD-at-their-bestish, while the latter is much more vintage Basildon beat with a few background noises that have somehow made their way across a record made in the late Sixties called “The White Album”.
How did that get in here? God only knows, so we’ll turn the damned thing over before it bites and just quickly point out that “Master And Servant” fulfils the same role as its predecessor on side one by looking very duff indeed when it decides to keep such exalted company.
“Somebody” is simply stunning, the best vocal ever recorded without its clothes on [2], while the already controversial “Blasphemous Rumours” may get the braces in a twist up at Broadcasting House but will undoubtedly make a lot of sense out there in the real world. Apart from the fact that it’s destined all the way for the top, ban or no ban, it is basically just a simple and suitably muddled query about the seemingly irreconcilable link-up between blind faith in an essentially Beneficial Being and the harsh tragedies of everyday life. And yes, you can dance to it.
Nine tracks then, two of them already released to ecstatic reactions despite the fact that they’re by far the weakest songs on the whole thing. There’s certainly more than enough here to shut all the critics up once and for all, but just in case you still fancy a little row it might be best to bear this in mind. It used to be okay to slag this bunch off because of their lack of soul, their supposed synthetic appeal, their reluctance to really pack a punch. “Some Great Reward” just trashes such bad old talk into the ground and demands that you now sit up and take notice of what is happening here, right under your nose.
No? Ah well, snobbery always was the greatest sin of all. [3]
[Melody Maker, 29th September 1984. Words: Barry McIlheney. Picture: Uncredited.]
GREATNESS AND PERFECTION
And to think that not so long ago Depeche Mode were regarded as a bit of a joke. Those desperately shallow early singles, the tedium of the TV appearances, the sheer monotony of most of the “Speak And Spell” live show. And then a very strange thing happened.
Suddenly, the Basildon boys took a quick look at what they were doing, decided to dump it in the nearest garbage can, and emerged into the brand new daylight with a body of truly wonderful songs, topped by a hat which has “politically aware” written all over it.
With the dubious benefit of hindsight, it is now clear that the departure from the ranks of Vince Clarke was an almighty blessing in disguise, freeing the massive songwriting potential of young Martin Gore. Under his guidance, Britain’s finest exponents of the beast known as electropop developed into something that even their most loyal supporters from the salad days could not have thought possible. Namely, a band that was truly popular and populist all at the same time, and one which threw in the odd dose of proletarian consciousness just for good measure.
As hit followed hit followed hit, it suddenly became clear that we were looking at a most remarkable phenomenon. Good God, I do believe that we are talking about a sparkling Eighties version of the Jam.
There is a truly remarkable development in the Voice of Gahan. He’s either been hiding the old tonsils underneath a very big bush for the last few years, or else some rather serious lessons have been taken in recent months. [1] Either way, the end result is a most strange kind of wonderful, with a deeper, more mellow croon now dominating the proceedings. It’s apparent right from the word go, with “Something To Do” proudly pushing it right up into the front of the mix, as if to say “well here you are now ladies and gentlemen, this is what you all wet your pants over in the bad old days”.
As if all that isn’t quite enough to be thinking about, “Lie To Me” suddenly booms out of the speakers with what I swear to George Clinton sounds very like a Funkadelic breed of slapping bass smeared all over the place. Indeed, it says quite a bit about the general standard of the first five in a row here that “People Are People” sticks out only through its relative mediocrity.
Gore has always said that “Some Great Reward” heralds a return to the more poppy side of things, but what he forgot to mention was that this seemingly retrogressive step would actually include (deep breath) ballads. That’s right, slow songs, songs that meander around all over the place, songs a million miles removed from the standard frenetic dash of the early product.
“It Doesn’t Matter” and “Stories Of Old” are splendidly pathetic in the true sense of the word, the one sounding vaguely OMD-at-their-bestish, while the latter is much more vintage Basildon beat with a few background noises that have somehow made their way across a record made in the late Sixties called “The White Album”.
How did that get in here? God only knows, so we’ll turn the damned thing over before it bites and just quickly point out that “Master And Servant” fulfils the same role as its predecessor on side one by looking very duff indeed when it decides to keep such exalted company.
“Somebody” is simply stunning, the best vocal ever recorded without its clothes on [2], while the already controversial “Blasphemous Rumours” may get the braces in a twist up at Broadcasting House but will undoubtedly make a lot of sense out there in the real world. Apart from the fact that it’s destined all the way for the top, ban or no ban, it is basically just a simple and suitably muddled query about the seemingly irreconcilable link-up between blind faith in an essentially Beneficial Being and the harsh tragedies of everyday life. And yes, you can dance to it.
Nine tracks then, two of them already released to ecstatic reactions despite the fact that they’re by far the weakest songs on the whole thing. There’s certainly more than enough here to shut all the critics up once and for all, but just in case you still fancy a little row it might be best to bear this in mind. It used to be okay to slag this bunch off because of their lack of soul, their supposed synthetic appeal, their reluctance to really pack a punch. “Some Great Reward” just trashes such bad old talk into the ground and demands that you now sit up and take notice of what is happening here, right under your nose.
No? Ah well, snobbery always was the greatest sin of all. [3]
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