Violator (1990) - Depeche Mode

Depeche Mode is a band that has become so synonymous with a particular genre, fashion and time that it can be hard to believe that they existed outside of the microcosm that was the 1980s. Perhaps no other band embodied all the glories of the era of synthpop quite like Depeche Mode, pioneers in the genre and one of its most well-loved outfits. While New Order’s brand of club ready dance pop was commercially dominant, Depeche Mode’s edgier, more seductive brand of industrial synth rock was always close behind, and arguably it has held up as far more engaging. While it would be easy to assume that anything released by this decidedly 80s institution after the turn of the decade wouldn’t be anything worth noticing, you would be entirely wrong. Even though Depeche Mode had become a venerable institution of all things synthpop by 1990, they were just getting started both in terms of success and artistic triumphs. Their last three albums all demonstrated how versatile the group could be with Some Great Reward (1984) featuring some of their most hard-hitting industrial instrumentals matched with their poppiest, shimmering choruses, while Black Celebration (1986) became a twisted, dark embodiment of all the group’s bleakest impulses over ethereal, churning post-punk production and Music for the Masses (1987) blew up their synth-rock sound to a size that would conquer arenas around the world and put them on the same level as any traditional rock band while still retaining their intimate, spine tingling lyrical style. While the band had already proved that they could make synthpop into whatever unique style they wanted, no one was prepared for their next sonic evolution, which produced a sleek, shimmering nocturnal masterpiece that they would never again come close to surpassing. Violator (1990) can truly challenge any other record in the alternative canon in terms of track list, with each song feeling like its own mini symphony of excellence in terms of both ahead of its time production and brilliant songcraft. The record packs in countless huge, arena ready hooks but the album has such an intimate, quiet atmosphere that makes it sound as if the band is playing just for you. The album radiates a sinister, shiver-inducing energy that comes from the beautifully chilling, yet shimmering production job from alternative rock legend Flood, fresh off of producing smash hits for U2 and fellow industrial pioneer Nine Inch Nails. While those albums sounded graceful and ugly respectively, this embodies the night like no other album I’ve ever encountered, sounding slick and clean without feeling overproduced. It could be released now and still sound futuristic. The production sheen is only one element of this album’s genius, with Martin Gore’s songwriting reaching an all time high in terms of expressiveness while still remaining impressionistic and more concerned with feeling than concrete detail. The band also lays down some of their most enduring, memorable work instrumentally, melding their shiny synth-pop textures with a gritty alternative rock bent, almost predicting the ugliness of grunge that would come to dominate in the coming years. The key to the entire record is Dave Gahan, whose vocal performances have never been more commanding and sensual, embracing the side of his voice that sounds like a seasoned Southern Baptist preacher, extolling the virtues of giving in to your deepest, darkest impulses with a slimy delivery mixed with true gospel fervor. Violator is the embodiment of everything that makes Depeche Mode such a unique band, distilled into a concise, cohesive package that bleeds seductive darkness.

The album opens with a perfect statement of purpose, the glistening, bold synth-rock of “World in My Eyes”. The song is expertly constructed by Gore and Flood, with the interlocking, mechanical rhythms providing a well-oiled base over which the bright yet seductive synth fills give the song a melodic sheen, yet, the true star of the proceedings is Dave Gahan, whose quavering, seductively sinister croon immediately introduces us to the nocturnal paradise of Violator’s universe. The song expertly invokes the album’s one of a kind atmosphere, painting a decidedly dark but inviting picture of Gore and Gahan’s musical world, with the haunting synth strings lurking in the background of the mix and Gore and Gahan’s urgently pleading harmonies on the shiver-inducing bridge all adding to the sleek, hellish feel of the song. Gore pens one of his most impressionistic lyrics, about taking a naive lover on a trip around his world of sin and pleasure, but in Gahan’s capable hands he spins the tale with a sizzlingly, sleazy delivery almost selling the concept of his sinful paradise like an expert used car salesman. It’s almost hard to take the lyrics into account at all because Gahan’s delivery is so brilliant that the words become meaningless in his croon, always drawing focus to his one of a kind tone. Every flash of synth is used to further the song’s dark, daring vibe, from the slap bass-aping snaps that punctuate the end of Gahan’s melodic phrases to the dazzling strings and stabs of urgent percussion. The song is a perfect illustration of what Depeche Mode excels at, creating tension between darkness and light, the central idea of the entire album, all in the form of a flawlessly executed slice of synth-pop. Undercurrents of darkness and an otherworldly feel of sensual frigidity make this an early album highlight.

The album dives into an even darker, bleak place with the slow burning, synth-pop meets cyclical, molasses-like blues rock of “Sweetest Perfection”, sung to perfection by Martin Gore, one of his only two lead vocal appearances here, with his slithering, sinister bite suiting this song’s devilish charms perfectly. He pitches his performance halfway between a naive newcomer to this enthralling world to someone world-weary and tired of his life, which suit the harrowing tale of drug addiction at the song’s center. The song is driven by a sluggish yet intense rhythmic stomp, namely from the earth-shaking bass line over which the synths are bent and manipulated in order to sound like ugly, bluesy guitar chords. The atmosphere quickly shifts from the inviting opener to this harrowing, spine tingling piece which is akin to feeling like you might drown in musical quicksand. Gore delivers what could be considered his finest vocal performance, since this song’s slow burning, sensual vibe screams Gahan, yet he delivers a performance that is much more earthy and depressed than Gahan may be capable of, Gore did handle many of DM’s sadder songs, but here his performance sinks into the grime of the song’s musicality. He truly embodies the character’s hellish struggle with substance abuse with aplomb, possibly inspired by Gahan’s own problems with hard drugs, yet he stills turns in a performance dripping in sweaty, urgent charisma that would make Gahan jealous. The song oozes a nasty edge unlike anything in their previous catalog and points the way to their grunge-inspired gospel rock follow up Songs of Faith and Devotion (1993), but this might best anything on that project in terms of sheer bullish force. Even amidst the outro’s swirling strings and warped use of found sounds, no light touches can pull you out of this song’s gritty, downbeat thrall. Few songs are so utterly hypnotic with such sparse elements, with the thundering bass and churning vocals weaving a tapestry of hardship. Less of a song and more like a full on sensory experience.

The record delivers its knockout punch with the anthemic alt-rock classic, and big hit single, “Personal Jesus”, which features Depeche Mode trading in their synthesizers for guitars on this out and out bluesy rock strut. The song is anchored by a cyclical, knife’s edge guitar figure that feels rooted in the blues while having a country bent while still managing to foreshadow the heavy fuzz that would take over with grunge in 1991. Gore wasn’t just aping the primal scream of grunge to come, he was doing something arguably more sophisticated that has dated better, anchoring this song on an electric, head banging riff that effortlessly melds alternative intimacy with the big, arena-conquering shouted chorus hook of “Reach out and touch faith!” which hits harder than most traditional stadium anthems. He delivers some of the album’s simplest yet most impactful lyrics, with Gahan playing a twisted secular gospel preacher-man selling salvation over the phone. The way Gore has always blended the sacred with the sacrilegious in his lyrics has always made for juicy contrast, he rarely went at is as bluntly or effectively as this song. The song is the most stripped to the bone on the record, made up of only essentials, with the arrangement revolving around Gahan, the thrashing drum track and the guitar for a majority of its runtime, with only the punches of backing vocals on the emphatic chorus hook providing anything more. The synth touches are still there, but they are pushed far into the background, until they come out in the ambient-adjacent outro which calms the stormy track that came before. The simplicity in comparison to the rest of the album makes this song even more arresting than it would be otherwise. The song still has that air of immaculate, shimmering production of the rest of the album, which is what makes that jagged guitar riff pop against the sparse backdrop so it doesn’t feel out of place. The song makes for the perfect standalone single, but it is just as powerful within the context of the record.

The record winds down with its first ballad, the breathtakingly ornate and sinister, simmering synth-pop of “Halo” which in another more just world would have been the fifth single off the record. The song is another that feels deceptively simple, as Gore and Flood expertly build up the arrangement with new elements slowly but surely, basing it around the bouncy drum track and slick synth riffs that ground it. The song is a slow burn, perfectly suited to Gahan’s cooing, almost soothing vocal performance, with him testifying over the plush, layered backdrop. While the songs verses lull you into a false sense of security, the chorus flips the script with its effortlessly pretty yet chilling melody where Gahan notices his lover’s sinister tendencies, painting them with the visceral metaphor of “a halo in reverse”. The chorus, punctuated with haunting string stabs and drenched in eerie multi tracked harmonies, revels in its horror-adjacent aesthetics while mixing them with some of the album’s most warm and gentle melodies. A masterpiece of contrast and atmosphere. The way in which the off-putting string motifs complement the synth fills makes for a stirring, gospel infused hit that would have fit in well with any of the more commercially successful DM ballads. It would arguably be a clear highlight on any of their other albums, but here it ends up as an also-ran, which proves the depth of this track list more than anything else.

The A-Side comes to a dazzling, quiet and unsettling close with the beautifully textured ambient ballad “Waiting for the Night”, a gorgeous exercise in minimalism and restraint. The piece opens with little more than a melodic synth motif and Gahan’s soothing, quiet vocals singing a melody not far off from a lullaby with a darker, more minor key bent, yet Flood and Gore marvelously layer more and more into the mix, yet never to an extent that feels too much, always airing on the side of minimalism and emptiness. In fact emptiness might be the key to this song’s brilliance, with the mix always having enough empty space that the song never feels complete, evoking the eerie, nocturnal atmosphere more blissfully and impactfully than any of the more uptempo tracks here. This is less of a distinct song than a fully realized mood piece. The song peaks when Gore and Gahan’s harmonies blossom in the mix, giving the song an air of graceful elegance, leaning into its lullaby aesthetics as even more synths and orchestral touches come in and fill out the mix. The song twinkles like a star in the night sky more than anything else I’ve ever heard. It aurally embodies the night. Depeche Mode is rarely ever soothing, yet this tale of the desire to escape the rush of the daytime for the beautiful quiet of the night is exactly that. It is a perfect song to experience in a quiet place, just close your eyes and feel it washing over you. The song is one of the most expansive mood pieces I’ve ever come across, while still being a startlingly minimalistic composition. A career best ballad from Depeche Mode.

The B-Side opens with the album’s other smash hit single, the spectacular synth-pop joy that is “Enjoy the Silence”, which can easily be seen as the band’s greatest pop moment with the radio ready hooks harking back to their best and biggest hits off of their previous albums. It draws from the joyous melodies of early triumphs like “Just Can’t Get Enough” (1981) without feeling like a throwback due to the dark atmosphere and maturity still permeating, as well as boasting a little twinge of influence from the early 90s house scene in the throbbing percussion and bass, which wouldn’t sound out of place on a New Order song. The arrangement’s delightful blend of bouncy synth lines, danceable new wave beats and an undeniably catchy chorus hook which is built for car ride sing alongs and entire stadiums to shout along with in concert (which is incredibly ironic considering the song is a beautiful ode to enjoying the quiet moments in life and not ruin them with needless words). The song almost sounds like a more mature, thoughtful update of a classic New Order dance song, particularly due to the poetic, yet cleverly minimalistic lyrics which show off Gore’s incredible way of painting an impressionistic portrait without ever overwriting. As always these lyrics are marvelously performed by Dave Gahan, whose quivering, earnest vocals suit the song’s thematic concerns beautifully, turning in what could be seen as his most vulnerable, heartfelt performance, pleading with his lover to not spoil the perfection of the moment with words. The whole song feels minimal, yet it makes an incredible impact with very few elements with the instrumental being built off a repeated, catchy riff played by both the synths and guitars, an emphatic drum pattern with a few dance beat breakdowns for good measure, yet the best parts are the swelling harmonies on the chorus. The hook itself is immaculate, both from a melodic and production perspective. The song ends with an echoed repetition of the title over the fading instrumental before it completely cuts out, leaving Gahan alone to sing in silence, which is cleverly apropos yet beautiful. A stirring, catchy and emotional pop song. A stone cold classic.

After a brief interlude, “Crucified”, which isn’t much more than a hypnotic, repeated guitar figure over eerie synth pads, the album climaxes with my personal favorite song of the bunch, the sharp “Policy of Truth”. The song is another powered by a cutting, knife’s edge guitar riff that toes the line between being percussive and melodic, giving the song a real rock quality, pairing well with some of the album’s most fuzzy synth stabs. The song’s construction and arrangement stands out among the most glittery synth pop cuts with Gore’s composition being built up from a series of infectious, interlocking rhythms and motifs as opposed to more traditional melodies to the point where it feels like a conscious, more sleek, rock-oriented update of their more industrial leaning mid-80s work. The song feels constructed for maximum impact, yet while the backing track shines with all of its rhythmic intricacies it truly is Dave Gahan who steals the show with his slithering, snide vocal performance which feels like an even darker take on the persona from “World in My Eyes”, delivering one of the album’s sharpest, most cuttingly powerful lyric about the desire to lie for self-preservation. The choruses are punctuated by the brassy synth horns, creating one of the album’s most arresting musical motifs and giving the song an even more tantalizingly playful yet sinister vibe. The song’s seductive twisting of traditional morality fits perfectly in the album’s sharply drawn world of sin and pleasure and in their wider catalog, fitting right in next to previous morally twisted triumphs like “Strangelove” (1987) and “Blasphemous Rumours” (1984). Gahan’s sheer indifference to the concept of truth bleeds through in the song, delivering his vicious lyrics to his partner with bite, almost shaming them for being naive enough to tell the truth. Gahan is at his best vocally on the entire LP, but this nuanced, biting performance might be the album highlight. The song is a perfect distillation of everything blissfully twisted about the album, both lyrically and musically. Few songs are put together better than this one, with every hook hitting with maximum accuracy while building an unparalleled atmosphere. A masterpiece among masterpieces.

The album begins to gracefully wind down with the deeply disturbed romance of “Blue Dress”, Martin Gore’s second and final solo performance of the album. He wickedly morphs this simple love song into a warped exploration of sexual proclivities and hyperspecific kinks. Gore’s vocals fit this song like a glove, projecting an elegant naivete with sinister undertones, pledging undying love while venting his deep-seeded desires. The quavering qualities of his performance suit the song’s unsure footing, which adds to the off-putting nature of the composition. The instrumental is one of the lightest and bounciest on the album, with a jittery, cyclical rhythm over which the band lays down a high pitched whining synth line, a classically inflected piano line and a shaky, nervous guitar lick on the chorus. Instrumentally, the song is less dense and a bit less enthralling than the previous seven classics, but it works wonders in beginning the album’s final stretch, winding down the heavy atmosphere and providing a lighter breather. The lyrics are some of Gore’s most poetic, skirting the line between romantic and melancholically resigned with him pleading to his lover to put on the one garment that makes him fall in love with her every single time. The slightest piece on the album, but still a worthwhile, under-appreciated DM song.

The album comes to a close with its weakest individual track, the hypnotically repetitious closer “Clean”, which rides its cyclical chorus hook until it can’t go any further. It works well as a closer, summing up the album both sonically and thematically, with Gahan’s propulsive, heavy vocal performance chanting Gore’s lyrics of absolving oneself of sin, which feels apropos after an album of such indulgence and dark, twisted wanderings. In fact the repetitious construction and pained vocals point to the similar sounding song “Condemnation” off of their 1993 follow up album, which takes this song’s unique structure and matches it to Gore’s most overtly gospel sounding composition. While that song is a career highlight due to the way Gahan shreds his voice for maximum catharsis, this is a slower burn, which makes it less impactful on first listen, yet no other track could close the album as well, though its near six minute length could use some judicious editing in places. The song is a monster, with its loping rhythms from the arena shaking drums making it feel more like a full body experience than a song, and its gurgling synths deliver the promise of spectacular atmosphere the rest of the album relishes in. This is the album’s only song where atmosphere trumps songwriting ,and it can come off more like background ambient music in places, yet being the weakest track on this track list is nothing to balk at.

Few albums work equally well as a set of individually brilliant songs and as a thoroughly moody and atmospheric collection built to be listened to all in one setting, but Violator (1990) excels at both. Its forty five minute length is short enough that a full listen never feels draining or too much, in fact it is one of my favorite records to put on any time since it is such a punchy, thrilling yet calming listen. Any way you slice it, Dave Gahan, Martin Gore and the rest of the band have come up with perhaps the best set not only of their career, but of synth-pop/rock as a whole. The production shimmers and sparkles, while luxuriating in the album’s uniquely seductive darkness while Gore’s songwriting has rarely been punchier or more arresting. Songs sung to perfection with vigor, snark and passion and Flood’s arrangements and production serve the songs better than any other DM producer has come close to, with the album feeling both minimal and plush all at once. While Depeche Mode had made great music before, this is the only album in their catalog that can be called flawless. They’d continue to make worthwhile music for the rest of the decade and into the new millennium, growing and changing, resulting in a move away from this shimmering brand of synth-pop meets alt-rock, so this remains a document of the band at their absolute peak of their powers. The standard they set with this album was something they nor any other synth act could live up to. Thirty years on, it remains a high water mark for not just synth-pop, but alternative music at large. Considering the direction the rest of the decade was heading, this on many levels was the last hurrah for synth-pop as a mainstay of alternative music for years to come, and the genre couldn’t have had a better album to close off its reign at the top of music. “Sweetest Perfection” indeed.