Listen With Mother
[Sounds, 23rd October 1982. Words: Karen Swayne. Picture: Alison Turner.]
LISTEN WITH MOTHER
Depeche Mode
Brighton [12th October 1982]
Unforeseen transportation difficulties (OK, we broke down) and the geriatric Hitler on the door ensured that a large part of Depeche Mode’s set was lost to these ears. By the time we rushed in, the band, the girls and the screaming were all well underway.
Singer David was at the front of the stage playing up to the squealing hordes, the remaining three – Vince has been replaced by Alan Wilder for live dates – poised confidently behind their synths; were these really the reluctant teen heroes of a year ago?
The past year has seen a few changes but some of the old songs are still there fitting in neatly with the less dinky, moodier numbers that make up the band’s second album, ‘A Broken Frame’. Martin Gore’s songwriting talents are evident on slow atmospheric tracks like ‘A Photograph Of You’ and ‘Sun And Rainfall’ [sic] while the chirpiness has been replaced by a haunting maturity, the music’s still dance-orientated if less simplistic.
The nervousness David used to reflect has gone. Now, he jerks and boogies almost puppet-like, each movement provoking swoons and screams although, for all the clutching hands and stage invasions, it’s a healthy adulation and far better than the adolescent lust Duran Duran seem to inspire.
Dep Mode’s youth and directness make them hard to resist. There’s no pretentions, no dry ice or rock star posturing; the murky boards which make up the backdrop are less flashy high-tech, more school prop cupboard rejects!
And so the effect is more homely than stark, for the group are the approachable and almost attainable face of synthesiser sound, far removed from the grim, mechanical Numanoids of this world.
The music is fun and unselfconscious, bright and bouncy but less disposable than you might think. ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ and the atmospheric ‘Photographic’ both sounded weightier and more powerful than on vinyl, disposing with any lingering doubts about wimps on synths.
The group’s appeal is such that they could do no wrong, but they never fell into the trap of merely going through the motions. Their previous reticence is a thing of the past.
They closed with ‘Dreaming Of Me’, displaying more verve and style than would ever have seemed possible, while the 14-year-olds grabbed each other ecstatically and nearly fell off their chairs.
Then the lights went on and they went home, no doubt to clutch their teddies and dream of Depeche Mode, hand-holders rather than seducers and pop’s answer to a mother’s prayer.
[Sounds, 23rd October 1982. Words: Karen Swayne. Picture: Alison Turner.]
LISTEN WITH MOTHER
Depeche Mode
Brighton [12th October 1982]
Unforeseen transportation difficulties (OK, we broke down) and the geriatric Hitler on the door ensured that a large part of Depeche Mode’s set was lost to these ears. By the time we rushed in, the band, the girls and the screaming were all well underway.
Singer David was at the front of the stage playing up to the squealing hordes, the remaining three – Vince has been replaced by Alan Wilder for live dates – poised confidently behind their synths; were these really the reluctant teen heroes of a year ago?
The past year has seen a few changes but some of the old songs are still there fitting in neatly with the less dinky, moodier numbers that make up the band’s second album, ‘A Broken Frame’. Martin Gore’s songwriting talents are evident on slow atmospheric tracks like ‘A Photograph Of You’ and ‘Sun And Rainfall’ [sic] while the chirpiness has been replaced by a haunting maturity, the music’s still dance-orientated if less simplistic.
The nervousness David used to reflect has gone. Now, he jerks and boogies almost puppet-like, each movement provoking swoons and screams although, for all the clutching hands and stage invasions, it’s a healthy adulation and far better than the adolescent lust Duran Duran seem to inspire.
Dep Mode’s youth and directness make them hard to resist. There’s no pretentions, no dry ice or rock star posturing; the murky boards which make up the backdrop are less flashy high-tech, more school prop cupboard rejects!
And so the effect is more homely than stark, for the group are the approachable and almost attainable face of synthesiser sound, far removed from the grim, mechanical Numanoids of this world.
The music is fun and unselfconscious, bright and bouncy but less disposable than you might think. ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ and the atmospheric ‘Photographic’ both sounded weightier and more powerful than on vinyl, disposing with any lingering doubts about wimps on synths.
The group’s appeal is such that they could do no wrong, but they never fell into the trap of merely going through the motions. Their previous reticence is a thing of the past.
They closed with ‘Dreaming Of Me’, displaying more verve and style than would ever have seemed possible, while the 14-year-olds grabbed each other ecstatically and nearly fell off their chairs.
Then the lights went on and they went home, no doubt to clutch their teddies and dream of Depeche Mode, hand-holders rather than seducers and pop’s answer to a mother’s prayer.