Long gone are the days of being THAT excited by a new Depeche Mode album and when the only interesting thing they have to say these days are when they talk yet again about Dave Gahan’s “drug hell”. So synonymous is this tale that it’s almost as if it was created to sustain people’s interest whilst they poo out another average album again proving that Alan Wilder who departed in 1995 was the one who sprinkled Depeche Mode with goth magic dust all along.

Not to say it’s all been bad, their two best of albums (1985’s and 1998) could easily have a third companion equally as good, albeit a single CD only, which is no mean feat (Barrel of a gun, No Good, Precious, Suffer Well, Home stand up to their mid eighties heyday). When you’ve been as long as Depeche Mode has (29 years, 12 albums, 100 million album sales) it’s a given that you’re going to know exactly what you are going to get as each album goes by.

After their vague return to form with 2004’s ‘Playing the angel’ its business as usual. Opener ‘In Chains’ is moody enough to show promise but tracks like ‘Hole to feed’ and non-descript flop comeback single ‘Wrong’ are all scratchy guitar riffs, synth stabs and Gahan’s heavily reverbed growling voice stinks of Depeche Mode trying to be Depeche Mode too much, desperately trying to be that fantastic synth rock band of the eighties but minus the tight leather and seedy Berlin fuck fests.

Despite its shortcomings, ‘Sounds of the Universe proves Martin Gore has kept a beady ear on the plethora of bands who are siphoning his influential pop sounds through their own music. The sizzling electronica of ‘Fragile Tension’ with its analogue sounds, tough electro beats and lyrical blustering of “There’s something magical in the air! Something so tragic, we have to care” is them taking back what they’re owed from LCD Soundystem.
Elsewhere songs such as the almost housey ‘In sympathy’, the pulsating ethereal quality of ‘Perfect’ and the gloriously poppy, ‘Peace’ with Gahan and Gore’s almost choir like harmonising are obviously tailor made for those desperate for the glory days of ‘Violator’ to return and they’re not left disappointed, they’re tremendous and easily up there amongst their best.

After that though there’s nothing, the rest of the album is lumpen sub-grunge doom and so self indulgent it’s only a fine line from watching them enjoy a mutual onanism session.
Depeche Mode have served us well during their existence, their influence can be felt to this very day at the top of the charts in pop trash such as Lady Gaga and they’ve continued to exist over their 30 years unlike the pie and lawsuit romancing cash suckers Spandau Ballet but if it takes five years to come up with a release as unsatisfying as this then maybe it’s time to call it a day.

Chris Todd

6/10