Depeche Mode Lift Angel
Synth-pop pioneers return with fourteenth album

Depeche Mode will mark their twenty-fifth year together with the release of their fourteenth album, Playing the Angel, in October. "We can be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame next year," guitarist [!] Andy Fletcher says with a grin.

Produced by Ben Hiller (Blur, Doves), the record features the band's classic blend of moody synth-pop beats, heavy guitar riffs and dark lyrics. "There's a really strong DNA in our band," says Fletcher. "We almost can't help sounding like ourselves - which is a good thing."

"We were in the studio," recalls frontman Dave Gahan, "and [Mute Records head] Daniel Miller came in and said, 'Oh, what's this album about then, the usual pain and suffering?' That's kind of our m.o."

On Playing the Angel, Gahan - who released his debut solo album, Paper Monsters, in 2003 - shares songwriting credits for the first time, territory traditionally reserved for keyboardist Martin Gore. "I was like, 'I'm not interested in doing this album unless I get to write songs,'" Gahan says. "So Martin and I talked about it. I think it caused a bit of competition in the band, which is healthy." Three of Gahan's songs will be included on the album.

Among his contributions is the ballad "Precious." [Dave had no hand in writing this song - BB] "It's about what's important," says Gahan, who famously battled with drugs and depression in the past, "and seeing life through the eyes of my children."

Depeche Mode will launch a world tour in support of Playing the Angel in October.

Gillian Telling
Rolling Stone, 6th July, 2005

Reprinted WITHOUT PERMISSION for non-profit use only.

"The website Artist Direct.com suggests that people who buy Depeche Mode's 11th album might also like the "similar albums" Live in London by Duran Duran and We Are the Eighties by A Flock of Seagulls. The average Mode fan would probably rather eat glass than admit such poppy chinks of light into his grotto, but it does pose the irrefutable point that, for all their dallying with the dark side, there's a part of Depeche Mode that will be forever Basildon synth-chavs. It's 24 years since their debut LP, but there's a sense of the electronica trio still being on their guard against their boyhood selves popping up to scupper the black-goth-lord image they've diligently cultivated.

But Dave Gahan, Martin Gore and Andy Fletcher should thank their lucky stars for those plinky beginnings, because the melodic skills acquired in the early days remain their saving grace. Beyond the "pain and suffering" (Gore's inviting words) that mark this (and every) album are big, majestic tunes that prove the old saw about dysfunction being no impediment to a great hookline. Gahan - who has songwriting credits for the first time - and main writer Gore just can't help themselves. Their dark nights of the soul always produce the shiniest melodies, rather than the Nick Caveish atonality they probably strive for.

There's a Cave moment in their decision to cover a 1930s blues song, John the Revelator; true to form, however, rather than keeping it minimal, they lift it with a gospel choir that has you punching the air. Does that defeat the object? I don't know. It's good, though. The single Precious has a similar effect. The lyric may say lugubrious remorse ("Things get damaged, things get broken ... My God, what have they done to you?"), but the lilting synths say, "Shake your black-dyed tailfeather."

There are no alarming musical innovations, unless you count the tempo having been stepped up a bit since 2001's Exciter album. Suffer Well swirls into life with old-school analogue action, and maintains a breathless pace throughout. And when Gahan intones, "I'm gonna need a miracle to help me this time" on Nothing's Impossible, he does it to a percussive chug-chug that belies his pessimism. It may be grim round Depeche's way, but they don't let it get in the way of a good melody."

Caroline Sullivan
The Guardian, 14th October, 2005

Reprinted WITHOUT PERMISSION for non-profit use only.

Doom & Gloom Revisited

"Even as it fills arenas around the world with its army of devoted fans, Depeche Mode just might remain the world's biggest cult band. The passion the band inspires in its faithful isn't all that different than it was in its early days as synth-pop pioneers - like a well-kept secret writ large - and if on occasion the group's morose anthems have crept into the mainstream, Depeche Mode has shown little interest in courting new fans. It knows its niche and frequently plays to it, and if it happens to sell millions of albums in the process, so be it.

Even so, Depeche Mode isn't as immutable as it sometimes seems at first listen. Its evolution has been as steady as it has been subtle, like a snake shedding its skin to reveal a slightly different set of scales each time. "Playing the Angel," the group's 11th album, follows 2001's dreamy, slightly laid back "Exciter," and to some extent the new disc exhibits a few similar traits, particularly its subdued, pre-dawn vibe. "Playing the Angel" also follows Depeche Mode singer Dave Gahan's 2003 solo bow, "Paper Monsters," and that, too, informs "Angel," albeit more explicitly.

Although Gahan's rich baritone is inextricable from Depeche Mode, the group's primary creative voice (at least since the early '80s departure of founder Vince Clarke) has been songwriter Martin Gore. Gahan intimated that "Paper Monsters" was partly his way of saying he wanted to play a larger role in the creative process, and with "Playing the Angel" Gore has finally relented, allowing Gahan writing credit on three songs, the best of which, the (relatively) upbeat "Suffer Well," introduces a few new flavors into the Depeche Mode fold, and the other two, "I Want It All" and "Nothing's Impossible," very much in the band's classic mold.

Gahan may be frustrated with his role performing the music of Gore, but on "Playing the Angel" the reportedly rough partnership sounds as simpatico as ever. One reason is that despite middle age and a history of substance abuse, Gahan's singing has never been better. The other is that, especially with a new foil of sorts, Gore remains as adept as ever at finding different ways to express the same old feelings of doom and gloom, with songs such as "John the Revelator," "Damaged People" and "The Sinner in Me" sneaking in winking - and winning - nods to Depeche Mode's past glories disguised by some sonic sleight of hand, like shards of distortion or the interplay of plinky guitar and keyboard on "Lillian."

Another factor that keeps the Depeche Mode cult alive is the fact that the group's always been a better singles band than album act, and those familiar with the band via only the hits are just getting part of the picture that most don't have the patience to explore. "Playing the Angel" is no exception in that the first single, "Precious," is the most striking and memorable song on the disc, but Depeche Mode has shown itself increasingly adept at constructing a start-to-finish listening experience.

If the second half of the disc primarily reflects the same spare, icy and ultimately insular textures and arrangements that marked the band's formative '80s work, by the time the final track, "The Darkest Star," fades to silence, it feels like the end of a journey prescribed by something less arbitrary than the end of an LP side or lack of space. It's like an ellipsis leading promisingly to the next page of a surprisingly fruitful career."

Joshua Klein
The Washington Post, 19th October, 2005

Reprinted WITHOUT PERMISSION for non-profit use only.

"It starts with a siren. A howling, distorted thing that beats at the ears, tugs anxiously at the sleeves of transfixed gawpers and gestures frantically toward the shelters - toward safety. Is it a warning or a call to arms? It’s neither. It’s both. It’s a great big woe-missile directed straight towards your emotional centre, launched in spectacular, bombastic fashion from The People’s Republic of Angstania. Mutual destruction isn’t just assured, it’s mandatory. The fortunate will be consumed quickly, the rest left to deal with the inevitable fallout: love, pain, sex, more pain, religion, and suffering. Stop trying to duck and cover - now is the time to fuck and recover. Because Playing the Angel is just that good.

Let’s take a trip beyond the opening seconds and crash headlong into a triptych of tracks, united in their noble refusal to let Depeche Mode fall foul of comments regarding aging obscurity. It seems that since the heady days of Violator the combination of theatrical style and gorgeous hook-laden melody have been apart far too often. "A Pain That I’m Used To" is but the first step in putting this to rights - thrashing with fire and noise amidst crunching vocal hooks, symbolising the start of something special. Yet we cannot stop here. It is time to press onwards, through the stark warning to those who would elevate the name of John above Jesus in their worship and forget the lessons of history. Through "John The Revelator," the pounding, pulsating, single-in-waiting (we can hope) and on at a canter to "Suffer Well" - proof that Dave Gahan’s songwriting fingers should have been set free long ago. Three songs. Three masterpieces of electronica. ‘Masterpieces,’ yes; because Playing the Angel is just that good.

Whilst a stand-alone trinity might be strangely appropriate for a band that deals so freely in religious imagery, the quality does not dip for the next thirty-odd minutes. Lead single "Precious" has been delicately bothering the airwaves for some weeks already, and perhaps appears a curious promotional choice when placed beside more immediate recordings. Here though, the gentle fragility of the tune, matching its theme of childhood protection, slips fluidly into place. Elsewhere, Martin Gore soars through "Damaged People" sounding like the most damaged person of all (or a somewhat unhinged uncle, at least) and the second Gahan-penned effort, "Nothing’s Impossible" provides even further delight. A song of hope in the face of relentless real-world drudgery and disappointment; sung low as the track moodily throbs around it, as if fighting a perpetual civil war against its own message of optimism. And there’s more, there’s so much more. From the brief instrumental interlude of "Introspectre" to the extended crawling gloomfest of "The Darkest Star," every moment sparkles with devilish glamour. Every moment screams to be played a little bit louder and a little bit longer; because Playing the Angel is just that good.

Cover your ears now. Not to block out the sound - that would be pure folly - but to gain entrance to new, deeper layers. Headphones can highlight all manner of missed details from the most mundane of listening experiences; in this case, they reveal a host of secrets concealed barely beneath the surface. Subtle backing vocals, harmonious tones and trills lurking in places the ears have skipped during a casual listen, the sheer size of the thumping drums used on "Macro"; beautiful nuggets now panned gradually to the top of the mix. Of course full enjoyment can be gleaned without this frivolity, it merely provides an additional surprise. That’s the kind of album Playing the Angel is; because, as I may have been mentioned, Playing the Angel is just that good.

When a record refuses to leave the stereo for days on end. When a record nags and pesters the brain to play it just once more. When a record insists that you take the trouble to sample it through various different media - these are the familiar signs of something rather magnificent. It’s that simple. So it’s worth reminding everyone that Playing the Angel is:

Just.

That.

Good."

Peter Parrish
Stylus Magazine, 15th November, 2005

Reprinted WITHOUT PERMISSION for non-profit use only.

Kenneth Partridge reviews 'Playing The Angel' in the October 24, 2005 issue of Express.

The following three items review the MEN Arena, Manchester, March 30, 2006 gig from the European leg of the 'Touring The Angel' world tour. Supported by The Bravery.

Essential Mode Music

"On a dank night in March, it seems oddly fitting to spend the evening with Depeche Mode.

The one-time pioneers of palatable synth pop morphed into purveyors of dark – dare I say – gothic rock during the 1980s, a sound that has served them well ever since.

But, while they may all be the wrong side of 40 these days, Gahan & co still look and sound surprisingly dynamic.

They emerge to an ear-blistering combination of German techno and 16,000 roaring fans and fly into recent album opener A Pain That I’m Used To. Gahan’s deep vocals invoke a pleasing sense of familiarity, but not so delightful as his on-stage antics – he canters across the dazzlingly-lit stage like a camp matador and his gyrating hips spark waves of excitement.

The Mode are quick to tear up the decades, reinventing 1986 track A Question Of Time and freshening up Policy Of Truth. The set is surprisingly heavy on new material, with much of a mid-section dominated by Playing The Angel.

Precious and Suffer Well are contenders for tracks of the night, but the evening starts to lose direction when Gahan surrenders the mic to Martin Gore for Damaged People – a definite low point. Gore’s ostentatious Broadway vocals on Home seem to rescue him, though, and he skips down the catwalk to rapturous applause.

But it’s clearly no accident that the set is played out with a host of classics – I Feel You and Personal Jesus sound timeless and exciting, and Enjoy The Silence is beefed up to a raucous rock anthem with the audience picking up vocal duties during the chorus.

Nor is it a coincidence that the encore is stuffed with 1980s hits – Shake The Disease is given a sensitive makeover by Gore, while Just Can’t Get Enough and Everything Counts are pure summery innocence.

But it is 1987’s Never Let Me Down Again that convinces everyone to stay put and miss the last tram home.

Essential stuff."

Sarah Walters
Manchester Evening News, 31st March, 2006

"When former electro-pop stars Depeche Mode began experimenting with much darker music in the 1980s, their efforts were slightly undermined by frontman David Gahan, possibly the squeakiest-looking Basildon boy ever to don leather trousers. Thus, Gahan got to work. There were tattoos, there were mind-boggling quantities of drugs, and there was a heart-stopping six minutes in 1996 when Gahan was clinically dead in an ambulance.

These days, the recovered frontman is probably where he wanted to be all along. At 44, he’s still youthful enough to don an Italian jacket and Cuban heels and look ridiculously dapper, but can now sing lines like "I’ll never be a saint" with a certain added gravitas. The band’s first UK appearance in five years is packed with such dark edges. A Sputnik-like craft on stage beams out messages like "terror" and "regret". Drawing heavily on 1990’s classic Violator and the recent album Playing The Angel, the set is surprisingly contemplative. Songs of degradation and dependency are paraded with a sinister, knowing undercurrent that suggests redemption from either is never entirely cut and dried.

Whatever forms his breakfast these days, Gahan is still a devil (literally, according to superfan Marilyn Manson) of a frontman, drawing gasps when he goes topless and sending female (and some male) hormones racing by simply touching his belt in a certain manner. The still flamboyant keyboardist-guitarist Martin Gore wears a pair of black angel’s wings which tremble appropriately during a wonderfully sacrilegious Personal Jesus. With a live drummer giving everything a bigger pulse, even the hits seem to glory in the black heart of their catalogue. Never Let Me Down Again is pounding and haunting; Enjoy The Silence simmers with evil. However, it is ironic wit not gravitas that fuels an encore of an early poppy anthem titled (ahem) Just Can’t Get Enough."

Dave Simpson
The Guardian, 3rd April, 2006

"Fuse Dave Gahan’s obvious cynicism about religion – and Christianity in particular – with a partial reinterpretation of Son House’s gospel classic, John The Revelator, and what do you get? Well, you just get Depeche Mode, really, doing the trademark brand of electronic rock that we’ve all come to expect from these electro stalwarts. There’s a few bips here and a smattering of plips there to fuel the digitised feel of everything and it scores fairly highly for Gahan’s vocal performance alone, but the tune is unlikely to win the Mode any more converts. AA-side Lilian is musically DM circa-1981 and lyrically somewhere around 1989, which makes for a curious mix that doesn’t really hit the spot."

Sarah Walters
Manchester Evening News, 2nd June, 2006

Reprinted WITHOUT PERMISSION for non-profit use only.

---