Dave Gahan Synth And Sensibilities (NME, 1997)
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Last week Dave Gahan flabbered your collective 'gast with his terrible tale of all-round narcotic foolishness. In the second part of our DEPECHE MODE exclusive fellow Modesters MARTIN GORE and ANDY 'FLETCH' FLETCHER, tell KEITH CAMERON how they coped with the drug-soaked tours and breakdowns (their own this time) to come back with the new album, 'Ultra'. Ultra vivid seen: STEFAN DE BATSELIER
So you think your band is big? Sorry, Noel. On the reception wall at Abbey Road Studios hangs the ultimate in ego-quashers: a presentation disc dedicated to the trifling matter of The Beatles and their record sales. Total units shifted - one billion, and counting. Really, most awfully, terribly sorry, Noel.
But when Oasis left the most famous recording studio in London NW8 last autumn, Depeche Mode moved in. Now that's a bit more like it. By any reasonable parameters, Depeche Mode are big. They'll tell you themselves.
"We've probably sold more LPs than any other modern British band," says Andy Fletcher.
See? Big.
"Easily, I would have thought."
How many's that, then?
"Ooh, dunno, can't count. We haven't done that George Michael thing and added them all up."
Martin Gore frowns. "It's probably along the lines of 30 million albums."
"Probably more than that," advises Fletch.
"More than that?"
"Yeah, I reckon it's between 50 and 60 million albums," says Fletch, his powers of mental arithmetic evidently revived.
"But to put things in perspective," cautions Martin, "it's nowhere near a billion."
True, they're still a long way behind The Beatles, but Depeche Mode have made an undeniably decent fist of being The Rolling Stones. The last time Mode took to the road was the cue for bacchanalian indulgence on a titanic scale.
Spread over 14 months, embracing 125 shows on five continents, the 'Devotional' tour came supplied with its own definitions of 'big'. Depeche Mode played to big crowds in big stadiums, made big amounts of noise and money...and held big parties every night. So big and hungry was the Mode battalion on the 'Devotional' tour that a full-time dealer was employed to ensure that the supply of drugs never ran out. For more than a year, Depeche Mode, erstwhile synth-pop jessies from Basildon, lived it as large as rock myth dictates - and nearly killed themselves in the process.
David Gahan, of course, came closest to the fact of his own mortality. Unable to tame his road-enraged heroin addiction, the Mode singer wound up flatlining in a Los Angeles ambulance last summer, the near-death scenario which impelled his ongoing rehabilitation and led, ultimately, to the completion at Abbey Road of the new Depeche album.
Gahan didn't know when to stop, but the others had their moments too. Roll call at the end of the 'Devotional' marathon saw Depeche Mode comprising one junkie, one nervous breakdown, one physical and emotional wreck, and one ex-member. Alan Wilder's departure apparently bode ill for the state of group harmony. But at least he'd managed to stay out of hospital. [1] Martin Gore was twice stricken with seizures caused by "overdoing it", while Andy Fletcher was absent for the final American leg, unable to withstand the mental stress and anxiety any longer.
Lunching at Fletcher's own Maida Vale bar-restaurant, Martin Gore betrays the slightly shell-shocked air of a man who has witnessed amazing and terrible deeds, all instigated at his behest.
"We lost the plot. We overplayed it with that last tour. But it's really difficult for us, at our level, to just decide to do a few key dates around the world. The minimum we would have to tour is nine months. Maybe we should have stuck to that, that's what we did with 'Violator', which was 90 concerts. Which, even so, is too much and heavy and gruelling. But with the last project we decided to do a 14-month tour, and I think those extra 30 to 40 gigs were the straw that broke the camel's back. Heh-heh-heh!" [2]
"The intensity of the partying had gone to a new stage," adds Fletch. "It had just been steadily getting worse and worse and worse and worse, until on that tour in particular it was just one huge party. Every night. Martin says he only went to bed early one time on the whole tour."
Martin Gore laughs again. It's a strange laugh, like someone attempting a tremulous, basso profondo impression of Basil Brush. "Heh-heh-heh!" When he really gets going, it mutates slightly and he sounds like he's about to choke on his chips. "A-heurgh! A-heurgh! A-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh!"
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How early is early?
Martin: "About 12. You don't get offstage usually 'til 10.30, 11, so to get to bed by 12 you've really achieved something there."
Fletch: "The whole story just sounds so rock 'n' roll. But, I suppose, it is. That's the way it was."
If Andy Fletcher sounds a little amazed hearing himself make this observation, it's hardly surprising. Built for a career in accountancy as opposed to feasting on the flesh of freshly sacrificed virgins, his primary role in Depeche Mode is to oversee the conception, execution and successful resolution of each 'project', as both he and Gore are wont to term official Mode activity. This even extends to refusing to allow Martin five minutes to finish his beer before we depart for the photo-shoot. "Come on," he flusters, "we do have a bit of a schedule on today."
But, as Martin himself protests, Depeche Mode "are not as depraved as people would like to make out". Dave Gahan might look like rock 'n' roll incarnate now, but 'twas not ever thus. Nay. The inspiration for his Satan-sponsored makeover came from a book. Indeed, a book about The Rolling Stones.
"Yeah," Gahan nods, a little sheepishly, in his Abbey Road interview lair. "Philip Norman (author of The Stones biography). Keef, man! Keef was for real! And I look at him now, and I love him."
As Gahan is all too aware, Keef survived as long as he has via the good services of professional 'doctors', who toured with the Stones throughout their drug heyday. Had Dave not been similarly catered for on the 'Devotional' tour, he might not have seen that project through, let alone begin and eventually conclude this new one.
"We had a fully-paid psychiatrist on the road as well!" laughs Gahan. "Pretty funny. I never went to see him, I didn't have any problems, hahaha! Not psychological, anyway! I even too it so far as to be desperate to get Primal Scream to come on the road with us. They were perfect, absolutely perfect! I loved that last album, everything about them was what I wanted us to be! That was my fantasy. We had a lot of fun, actually, a lot of good times. They'd always be in my dressing room!"
It must have been carnage.
"It was brilliant! There'd be a knock at the door before the show and it's Innes, or Throb, or Bobby, (adopts pretty respectable Glaswegian accent) 'Have ye got a wee sniff, Mr G? I cannae make it tonight, I've been on the Jack all day, I just need a wee sniff, Mr G'. Hahaha! Really funny. And of course, I'd supply them with what they needed. Bobby saw right through my little game, and I felt I saw right through him. He gives off this great image of being this wasted f---up, but he's a real smart, clever guy. Bobby balanced it really well, he knew where to stop. I didn't realise that nobody actually did play the game that hard. And the Scream proved that."
For Martin and Fletch, the impact of Dave's lifestyle choice appears cushioned by the distance, physical and spiritual, that has graphically developed between the three Essex boys ever since Gahan moved to Los Angeles in 1991. Neither of them has ever done heroin, and therefore both freely admit to not truly comprehending what happened to their friend.
"I've only actually thought Dave was dead twice," says Martin, "which is not bad going, If you get a phonecall and it's your manager or somebody saying, 'I need to speak to you about Dave, something really bad's happened', the first thought you have is 'Oh my God, this time it's the big one'. And that's only happened twice. And it's really bad, but that's par for the course as Dave goes."
"He should have been dead," states Fletch. "He should have been dead, honestly. I don't know how his body actually kept up with it."
Martin: "What's that phrase? Institutions, jail, death? And Dave says, 'I've been there and done them all'. And he's still walking. He's still singing. So it's a miracle, praise the Lord. Heh-heh-heh-heh!"
Your record label must be especially grateful.
Fletch: "They must have had a few heart attacks in the last couple of years."
Martin: "A-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh!"
Depeche Mode is seriously big business. Mute Records depend substantially on Mode record sales to fund their other, less commercially potent artists. It would, then, be an unsurprising, if unpalatable, fact of life if there were those amidst the Depeche organisation who viewed Gahan's narcotic traumas as a financial inconvenience, rather than a purely personal tragedy.
Gahan himself admits to feelings of resentment about what he perceives as his colleagues' self-interest.
"Six months ago, I was really pissed off about it, because all that really seemed important to Mart and Fletch was if I was dead there'd be no Depeche Mode any more. I didn't get any support at all, verbally, from Fletch or Mart at any point. In fact, I've maybe heard from Mart once or twice in nearly three years. To be fair, I don't think they knew how bad it really was. They only saw me sporadically, and I tried to get it together enough to fool them.
"But I still am a bit resentful, especially of Mart. He rang me just before I went into Exodus (the detox unit where Gahan finally cleaned up) and he was angry with me. I came off the phone in tears, because I realised, 'F---, they don't really give a shit about me, it's the fact that there might not be any Depeche Mode any more'. Really selfish.
"I was the most selfish one of all, by far, and I claim that, but it would have been nice if there had been some support from my so-called friends. Fletch used to tell me a lot of his friends were like, 'Why don't you just boot him out?' Hahaha! Which is a pretty funny concept, coming from Fletch! [1]
One thing all three members of Depeche Mode agree on is that the difficult gestation of the current project would have been most likely rendered intolerable were Alan Wilder still present. Remembered by Martin Gore as a "misanthropist", the man who replaced Vince Clarke in 1982 as the band's resident techno-boffin - though not, of course, it's songwriter, that function shifting to Gore - had clearly become an irritant to others. Fletch jokes that his departure was inevitable "because he didn't come from Essex".
"When Alan left the band he was insistent on making a big press statement," says Martin. [2] "One of his main points was that he felt the workload over the years had been unfairly distributed. And if that was the case it was because he decided that was how it should be, because he was a control freak. If the work was unfairly distributed it was because he made it that way."
Martin: "About 12. You don't get offstage usually 'til 10.30, 11, so to get to bed by 12 you've really achieved something there."
Fletch: "The whole story just sounds so rock 'n' roll. But, I suppose, it is. That's the way it was."
If Andy Fletcher sounds a little amazed hearing himself make this observation, it's hardly surprising. Built for a career in accountancy as opposed to feasting on the flesh of freshly sacrificed virgins, his primary role in Depeche Mode is to oversee the conception, execution and successful resolution of each 'project', as both he and Gore are wont to term official Mode activity. This even extends to refusing to allow Martin five minutes to finish his beer before we depart for the photo-shoot. "Come on," he flusters, "we do have a bit of a schedule on today."
But, as Martin himself protests, Depeche Mode "are not as depraved as people would like to make out". Dave Gahan might look like rock 'n' roll incarnate now, but 'twas not ever thus. Nay. The inspiration for his Satan-sponsored makeover came from a book. Indeed, a book about The Rolling Stones.
"Yeah," Gahan nods, a little sheepishly, in his Abbey Road interview lair. "Philip Norman (author of The Stones biography). Keef, man! Keef was for real! And I look at him now, and I love him."
As Gahan is all too aware, Keef survived as long as he has via the good services of professional 'doctors', who toured with the Stones throughout their drug heyday. Had Dave not been similarly catered for on the 'Devotional' tour, he might not have seen that project through, let alone begin and eventually conclude this new one.
"We had a fully-paid psychiatrist on the road as well!" laughs Gahan. "Pretty funny. I never went to see him, I didn't have any problems, hahaha! Not psychological, anyway! I even too it so far as to be desperate to get Primal Scream to come on the road with us. They were perfect, absolutely perfect! I loved that last album, everything about them was what I wanted us to be! That was my fantasy. We had a lot of fun, actually, a lot of good times. They'd always be in my dressing room!"
It must have been carnage.
"It was brilliant! There'd be a knock at the door before the show and it's Innes, or Throb, or Bobby, (adopts pretty respectable Glaswegian accent) 'Have ye got a wee sniff, Mr G? I cannae make it tonight, I've been on the Jack all day, I just need a wee sniff, Mr G'. Hahaha! Really funny. And of course, I'd supply them with what they needed. Bobby saw right through my little game, and I felt I saw right through him. He gives off this great image of being this wasted f---up, but he's a real smart, clever guy. Bobby balanced it really well, he knew where to stop. I didn't realise that nobody actually did play the game that hard. And the Scream proved that."
For Martin and Fletch, the impact of Dave's lifestyle choice appears cushioned by the distance, physical and spiritual, that has graphically developed between the three Essex boys ever since Gahan moved to Los Angeles in 1991. Neither of them has ever done heroin, and therefore both freely admit to not truly comprehending what happened to their friend.
"I've only actually thought Dave was dead twice," says Martin, "which is not bad going, If you get a phonecall and it's your manager or somebody saying, 'I need to speak to you about Dave, something really bad's happened', the first thought you have is 'Oh my God, this time it's the big one'. And that's only happened twice. And it's really bad, but that's par for the course as Dave goes."
"He should have been dead," states Fletch. "He should have been dead, honestly. I don't know how his body actually kept up with it."
Martin: "What's that phrase? Institutions, jail, death? And Dave says, 'I've been there and done them all'. And he's still walking. He's still singing. So it's a miracle, praise the Lord. Heh-heh-heh-heh!"
Your record label must be especially grateful.
Fletch: "They must have had a few heart attacks in the last couple of years."
Martin: "A-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh!"
Depeche Mode is seriously big business. Mute Records depend substantially on Mode record sales to fund their other, less commercially potent artists. It would, then, be an unsurprising, if unpalatable, fact of life if there were those amidst the Depeche organisation who viewed Gahan's narcotic traumas as a financial inconvenience, rather than a purely personal tragedy.
Gahan himself admits to feelings of resentment about what he perceives as his colleagues' self-interest.
"Six months ago, I was really pissed off about it, because all that really seemed important to Mart and Fletch was if I was dead there'd be no Depeche Mode any more. I didn't get any support at all, verbally, from Fletch or Mart at any point. In fact, I've maybe heard from Mart once or twice in nearly three years. To be fair, I don't think they knew how bad it really was. They only saw me sporadically, and I tried to get it together enough to fool them.
"But I still am a bit resentful, especially of Mart. He rang me just before I went into Exodus (the detox unit where Gahan finally cleaned up) and he was angry with me. I came off the phone in tears, because I realised, 'F---, they don't really give a shit about me, it's the fact that there might not be any Depeche Mode any more'. Really selfish.
"I was the most selfish one of all, by far, and I claim that, but it would have been nice if there had been some support from my so-called friends. Fletch used to tell me a lot of his friends were like, 'Why don't you just boot him out?' Hahaha! Which is a pretty funny concept, coming from Fletch! [1]
One thing all three members of Depeche Mode agree on is that the difficult gestation of the current project would have been most likely rendered intolerable were Alan Wilder still present. Remembered by Martin Gore as a "misanthropist", the man who replaced Vince Clarke in 1982 as the band's resident techno-boffin - though not, of course, it's songwriter, that function shifting to Gore - had clearly become an irritant to others. Fletch jokes that his departure was inevitable "because he didn't come from Essex".
"When Alan left the band he was insistent on making a big press statement," says Martin. [2] "One of his main points was that he felt the workload over the years had been unfairly distributed. And if that was the case it was because he decided that was how it should be, because he was a control freak. If the work was unfairly distributed it was because he made it that way."
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You're presumably no longer in contact?
Fletch: "We were never in contact with him anyway when he was in the band. And he only lived in Cricklewood! It's almost like he never existed."
Martin: "I don't think we should ever get into a slanging match with Alan, because he was an integral part of the band who had a lot of input and a lot to say in what the band was doing."
"He would slag us off, though," reasons Fletch.
"I think that Alan was far less forgiving," Martin continues. "I have to admit that after hearing on the radio that Dave had OD'd and been arrested, I was thinking, 'This is pointless, it's time to call it a day. I just can't see this project ever coming to a close'. But I'm really pleased now that we gave him that one last chance. And I think it really was that one last chance, because he'd let us down so many times in the past. He pulled himself through and the last six months have actually been enjoyable and easy-going."
Fletch: "We got more press over Dave's suicide and overdose than at any time in our whole career. We got a double page in the Sunday Times magazine! Now, if we tried to get into the Sunday Times magazine for our music there'd be no way on this earth..."
Martin: "Heh-heh-heh-heh!"
Fletch: "But Dave OD's and he gets the whole thing!"
Martin: "One thing we should always remember is that Dave and drugs is a small facet of this band. It's a big part of Dave's life but, of course, it makes headline news and it's always over-focused upon. But there are so many other interesting facets to this band..."
Fletch: "Not much!"
Martin: "Heh-heh-heh! Obviously we know that people are going to be interested in the Dave-drugs angle, but hopefully they'll also be interested in the fact that we've finished an album."
Fletch: "When you're recording albums there's always some problem. Dave's been a huge problem this year, but it could have been that we'd had no songs, for instance, and Martin had completely dried up."
Martin: "I could have gone off the rails."
Fletch: "You have!"
Martin: "Yeah, sorry, that was a joke. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! A-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh- heurgh...!"
There are many remarkable aspects to the new Depeche Mode album, just one of which is the fact that it was made at all. Wilder's function was assumed by Tim Simenon and his production team - programmer, keyboardist and engineer. In their initial meeting, Gore told Simenon that he was interested in giving the album a hip-hop-based sonic template, a subconscious nod back to such late-'80s US groups as 3rd Bass, whose reverence for the Mode's pioneering electro tapestries led them to sample 'Never Let Me Down Again'.
There were no other preconditions, and 15 months after work was started, and in spite of the obvious difficulties - "Yeah, nearly losing a singer," smiles Simenon. "That's never happened to me before" - it stands triumphant, a resounding testimony to the ongoing resonance of Gore's brooding treatises on Life (The Meaning Thereof) and Gahan's heightened abilities as an interpretive singer. Simenon describes the prevailing vibe as, "psychedelic/B-boy/porno", whatever the f--- that means". They're calling it 'Ultra'.
"The title really fits in with our new line-up," says Martin. "We lost a member along the way and now it's the new, improved, slimmed-down version. A-heurgh, a-heurghhh! I think it's a great, positive title."
Many of 'Ultra''s songs, including new single 'Barrel Of A Gun', deal with destiny. Gore's current fascination with genetics - "The only magazine I subscribe to is New Scientist" - has helped ground his conviction that our lives are, to a large extent, determined from birth.
'Barrel Of A Gun''s about understanding what you're about and realising that you don't necessarily fit into somebody else's scheme of things. You can have slight diversions from your path, but I think there is something that s written for us, that is meant to be. I'm not being totally fatalistic. I think that we do have a say in things, but I don't think that say is very strong."
What storms of psychic interference rage at the core of Depeche Mode! It's not hard to imagine what thoughts must have flown through the head of Dave Gahan as he sang 'Ultra''s brooding ominous songs little more than two months after only the skill of a Californian paramedic prevented his long-standing drug addiction from claiming his life.
Can he hear Martin talking to him?
"I do. He says he's not. I think he's subconsciously looking at himself. I think Martin is at a stage where he's realising a lot about himself and I hope he can turn around, be able to control his own problems, whatever they may be. I'm not passing judgment on Martin, but I think he has a bit of an alcohol problem, and I think he knows it. I would hate to see him lose everything like I did before I realised. So I think Martin is writing these songs and he can't help but think about what's been going on with me and then maybe look at himself in the mirror. That's the way it works. [3]
"Depeche Mode is Martin's songs and my voice. The music is very much head music and then I bring the heartbeat. I love to sing the songs. I shall miss it when it's not there any more."
There are no plans for this brilliant, intense, incongruously f---ed-up little band to tour for the foreseeable future. Depeche Mode are big enough already.
Fletch: "We were never in contact with him anyway when he was in the band. And he only lived in Cricklewood! It's almost like he never existed."
Martin: "I don't think we should ever get into a slanging match with Alan, because he was an integral part of the band who had a lot of input and a lot to say in what the band was doing."
"He would slag us off, though," reasons Fletch.
"I think that Alan was far less forgiving," Martin continues. "I have to admit that after hearing on the radio that Dave had OD'd and been arrested, I was thinking, 'This is pointless, it's time to call it a day. I just can't see this project ever coming to a close'. But I'm really pleased now that we gave him that one last chance. And I think it really was that one last chance, because he'd let us down so many times in the past. He pulled himself through and the last six months have actually been enjoyable and easy-going."
Fletch: "We got more press over Dave's suicide and overdose than at any time in our whole career. We got a double page in the Sunday Times magazine! Now, if we tried to get into the Sunday Times magazine for our music there'd be no way on this earth..."
Martin: "Heh-heh-heh-heh!"
Fletch: "But Dave OD's and he gets the whole thing!"
Martin: "One thing we should always remember is that Dave and drugs is a small facet of this band. It's a big part of Dave's life but, of course, it makes headline news and it's always over-focused upon. But there are so many other interesting facets to this band..."
Fletch: "Not much!"
Martin: "Heh-heh-heh! Obviously we know that people are going to be interested in the Dave-drugs angle, but hopefully they'll also be interested in the fact that we've finished an album."
Fletch: "When you're recording albums there's always some problem. Dave's been a huge problem this year, but it could have been that we'd had no songs, for instance, and Martin had completely dried up."
Martin: "I could have gone off the rails."
Fletch: "You have!"
Martin: "Yeah, sorry, that was a joke. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! A-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh- heurgh...!"
There are many remarkable aspects to the new Depeche Mode album, just one of which is the fact that it was made at all. Wilder's function was assumed by Tim Simenon and his production team - programmer, keyboardist and engineer. In their initial meeting, Gore told Simenon that he was interested in giving the album a hip-hop-based sonic template, a subconscious nod back to such late-'80s US groups as 3rd Bass, whose reverence for the Mode's pioneering electro tapestries led them to sample 'Never Let Me Down Again'.
There were no other preconditions, and 15 months after work was started, and in spite of the obvious difficulties - "Yeah, nearly losing a singer," smiles Simenon. "That's never happened to me before" - it stands triumphant, a resounding testimony to the ongoing resonance of Gore's brooding treatises on Life (The Meaning Thereof) and Gahan's heightened abilities as an interpretive singer. Simenon describes the prevailing vibe as, "psychedelic/B-boy/porno", whatever the f--- that means". They're calling it 'Ultra'.
"The title really fits in with our new line-up," says Martin. "We lost a member along the way and now it's the new, improved, slimmed-down version. A-heurgh, a-heurghhh! I think it's a great, positive title."
Many of 'Ultra''s songs, including new single 'Barrel Of A Gun', deal with destiny. Gore's current fascination with genetics - "The only magazine I subscribe to is New Scientist" - has helped ground his conviction that our lives are, to a large extent, determined from birth.
'Barrel Of A Gun''s about understanding what you're about and realising that you don't necessarily fit into somebody else's scheme of things. You can have slight diversions from your path, but I think there is something that s written for us, that is meant to be. I'm not being totally fatalistic. I think that we do have a say in things, but I don't think that say is very strong."
What storms of psychic interference rage at the core of Depeche Mode! It's not hard to imagine what thoughts must have flown through the head of Dave Gahan as he sang 'Ultra''s brooding ominous songs little more than two months after only the skill of a Californian paramedic prevented his long-standing drug addiction from claiming his life.
Can he hear Martin talking to him?
"I do. He says he's not. I think he's subconsciously looking at himself. I think Martin is at a stage where he's realising a lot about himself and I hope he can turn around, be able to control his own problems, whatever they may be. I'm not passing judgment on Martin, but I think he has a bit of an alcohol problem, and I think he knows it. I would hate to see him lose everything like I did before I realised. So I think Martin is writing these songs and he can't help but think about what's been going on with me and then maybe look at himself in the mirror. That's the way it works. [3]
"Depeche Mode is Martin's songs and my voice. The music is very much head music and then I bring the heartbeat. I love to sing the songs. I shall miss it when it's not there any more."
There are no plans for this brilliant, intense, incongruously f---ed-up little band to tour for the foreseeable future. Depeche Mode are big enough already.
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The following was from NME - New Musical Express on January 25th, 1997:
Extracts from interviews featured in NME's January 25 issue
SYNTH AND SENSIBILITIES
We lost the plot. We overplayed it with that last tour. But it's really difficult for us, at our level, to just decide to do a few key dates around the world. The minimum we would have to tour is nine months. Maybe we should have stuck to that, that's what we did with 'Violator', which was 90 concerts. Which, even so, is too much and heavy and gruelling. But with the last project we decided to do a 14-month tour, and I think those extra 30 to 40 gigs were the straw that broke the camel's back. Heh-heh-heh!
- Andy Fletcher on that infamous 'Devotional' tour...
I've only actually thought Dave was dead twice. Which is not bad going. If you get a phone call and it's your manager or somebody saying, 'I need to speak to you about Dave, something really bad's happened', the first thought you have is, 'Oh my God, this time it's the big one'. And that's only happened twice. And it's really bad, but that's par for the course as Dave goes.
- Martin Gore - he cares a lot
Six months ago, I was really pissed off about it, because all that really seemed important to Mart and Fletch was if I was dead there'd be no Depeche Mode any more. I didn't get any support at all, verbally, from Fletch or Mart at any point. In fact, I've maybe heard from Mart once or twice in nearly three years. To be fair, I don't think they knew how bad it really was. They only saw me sporadically, and I tried to get it together enough to fool
them.
- Dave Gahan on the bad old days
Extracts from interviews featured in NME's January 25 issue
SYNTH AND SENSIBILITIES
We lost the plot. We overplayed it with that last tour. But it's really difficult for us, at our level, to just decide to do a few key dates around the world. The minimum we would have to tour is nine months. Maybe we should have stuck to that, that's what we did with 'Violator', which was 90 concerts. Which, even so, is too much and heavy and gruelling. But with the last project we decided to do a 14-month tour, and I think those extra 30 to 40 gigs were the straw that broke the camel's back. Heh-heh-heh!
- Andy Fletcher on that infamous 'Devotional' tour...
I've only actually thought Dave was dead twice. Which is not bad going. If you get a phone call and it's your manager or somebody saying, 'I need to speak to you about Dave, something really bad's happened', the first thought you have is, 'Oh my God, this time it's the big one'. And that's only happened twice. And it's really bad, but that's par for the course as Dave goes.
- Martin Gore - he cares a lot
Six months ago, I was really pissed off about it, because all that really seemed important to Mart and Fletch was if I was dead there'd be no Depeche Mode any more. I didn't get any support at all, verbally, from Fletch or Mart at any point. In fact, I've maybe heard from Mart once or twice in nearly three years. To be fair, I don't think they knew how bad it really was. They only saw me sporadically, and I tried to get it together enough to fool
them.
- Dave Gahan on the bad old days