Triumph Of The Basildon Three
[The Daily Mail, 11th April 1997. Words: Adrian Thrills. Picture: Anton Corbijn.]
DEPECHE MODE: Ultra [Mute Records]
Verdict: Sombre and plaintive, a stunning return to form *****
The most remarkable thing about the new Depeche Mode release is not that it is the most listenable and diverse album the Basildon trio have produced in a career spanning 17 years: it is that the record reached fruition in the first place.
The past four years have been so harrowing that many, perhaps even the group themselves, must have thought Ultra would never see daylight.
The band members – once the cherubic faces of dinky synthesiser pop – have all been through their own private hell since Songs Of Faith and Devotion became a worldwide Number One album in 1993. It is as much by good luck as good judgement that they have pulled through.
Singer David Gahan’s decline was the most wretched, involving drug abuse, a highly-publicised suicide attempt and, less that a year ago, a near-fatal heroin overdose.
Songwriter and guitarist Martin Gore suffered two heart attacks brought on by stress and alcohol, keyboard player Andy Fletcher was hospitalised for a month after a nervous breakdown.
Finally, long-standing fourth member Alan Wilder jumped ship last year, citing their “working practices” as the reason. [1]
As a result, it is hard to listen to Ultra – a record of sombre tones – without being conscious of the crises behind its creation. While its swathes of electronic gauze often verge on the cinematic, Depeche Mode rarely depart from the verse-chorus basics of the song and the underrated Gore’s gift for mood and melancholy is as strong as ever.
One of British pop’s most consistent and overlooked songsmiths, Gore deserves credit for pulling Depeche Mode through musically, just as he did in 1981 when the band’s original songwriter Vince Clarke, now of Erasure, left to form Yazoo with singer Alison Moyet. Wonderfully produced by Tim Simenon of dance pioneers Bomb The Bass, Ultra makes some nods in the direction of club music.
But, with rock now routinely pillaging dance for fresh inspiration, Depeche Mode use these elements with more authenticity than most.
Namechecked by Bristolian trip hop wizard Tricky, and cited as a big influence by American techno-flyers Todd Terry and Derrick May, their credentials are impeccable. So there is no shame in stealing a little something back. In contrast to the grunge rock guitars of their previous outing, Ultra signals a return to electronica.
It even harks back to their ‘new romantic’ roots. With America now smitten by the synthesiser, this could be a timely move; in their willingness to embrace studio technology, the band are further into the cycle of sonic evolution than their international rock peers U2.
Gahan’s singing is warm and resonant, the stadium bellow of the previous album replaced by a mellower style. Musically, the group have also broadened their horizons beyond basic rock and synthesised sound. The Bottom Line features some lovely pedal steel guitar and Freestate is a haunting blues track.
The only thing the magnificent but dark Ultra lacks is some light relief, hardly surprising given what they have all been through. Closing on the life-affirming mantra You’ve Got To Give Love [2], however, it is the story of a band reborn. Having glimpsed the grim alternatives, let’s hope they continue to thrive.
[The Daily Mail, 11th April 1997. Words: Adrian Thrills. Picture: Anton Corbijn.]
DEPECHE MODE: Ultra [Mute Records]
Verdict: Sombre and plaintive, a stunning return to form *****
The most remarkable thing about the new Depeche Mode release is not that it is the most listenable and diverse album the Basildon trio have produced in a career spanning 17 years: it is that the record reached fruition in the first place.
The past four years have been so harrowing that many, perhaps even the group themselves, must have thought Ultra would never see daylight.
The band members – once the cherubic faces of dinky synthesiser pop – have all been through their own private hell since Songs Of Faith and Devotion became a worldwide Number One album in 1993. It is as much by good luck as good judgement that they have pulled through.
Singer David Gahan’s decline was the most wretched, involving drug abuse, a highly-publicised suicide attempt and, less that a year ago, a near-fatal heroin overdose.
Songwriter and guitarist Martin Gore suffered two heart attacks brought on by stress and alcohol, keyboard player Andy Fletcher was hospitalised for a month after a nervous breakdown.
Finally, long-standing fourth member Alan Wilder jumped ship last year, citing their “working practices” as the reason. [1]
As a result, it is hard to listen to Ultra – a record of sombre tones – without being conscious of the crises behind its creation. While its swathes of electronic gauze often verge on the cinematic, Depeche Mode rarely depart from the verse-chorus basics of the song and the underrated Gore’s gift for mood and melancholy is as strong as ever.
One of British pop’s most consistent and overlooked songsmiths, Gore deserves credit for pulling Depeche Mode through musically, just as he did in 1981 when the band’s original songwriter Vince Clarke, now of Erasure, left to form Yazoo with singer Alison Moyet. Wonderfully produced by Tim Simenon of dance pioneers Bomb The Bass, Ultra makes some nods in the direction of club music.
But, with rock now routinely pillaging dance for fresh inspiration, Depeche Mode use these elements with more authenticity than most.
Namechecked by Bristolian trip hop wizard Tricky, and cited as a big influence by American techno-flyers Todd Terry and Derrick May, their credentials are impeccable. So there is no shame in stealing a little something back. In contrast to the grunge rock guitars of their previous outing, Ultra signals a return to electronica.
It even harks back to their ‘new romantic’ roots. With America now smitten by the synthesiser, this could be a timely move; in their willingness to embrace studio technology, the band are further into the cycle of sonic evolution than their international rock peers U2.
Gahan’s singing is warm and resonant, the stadium bellow of the previous album replaced by a mellower style. Musically, the group have also broadened their horizons beyond basic rock and synthesised sound. The Bottom Line features some lovely pedal steel guitar and Freestate is a haunting blues track.
The only thing the magnificent but dark Ultra lacks is some light relief, hardly surprising given what they have all been through. Closing on the life-affirming mantra You’ve Got To Give Love [2], however, it is the story of a band reborn. Having glimpsed the grim alternatives, let’s hope they continue to thrive.