Depeche Mode Some Fans Say It's the "Worst Ever"

Depeche Mode "Hole to Feed"
Right now, on depechemode.com there is a 103 page thread on the band's Eric Wareheim directed video for "Hole to Feed." Frequently, the words used to describe the video are "disgusting," "tacky," "gross" and "worst ever." If this ongoing conversation is any indication of fans on the whole, then it's clear that a lot of Modies cannot stand the new clip. But why?
Could it be that the rampant tongue fighting is just too disturbing to handle or is it that the video simply doesn't fit with the image the band has created over the years? Between Black Celebration and Playing the Angel, Depeche Mode worked so frequently with Anton Corbijn (on videos, photographs and cover designs) that he might as well have been a member of the band. His sleek, seductive style became the public image of Depeche Mode, moving them far beyond the awkward early MTV look of their earlier years. How can any director fill the void left by two decades of near constant collaboration? Wareheim's borderline cringe worthy sense of humor is at odds with what Modies have come to expect from the band. At the same time, though, the video proves that Depeche Mode isn't afraid to push the buttons of its fanbase. Whether or not it works is still up for debate. And so, the question remains, what do you think of "Hole to Feed"?

‘Sounds’ of Mediocrity Depeche Mode

The men from Basildon, England are back with their first album in three years. “Sounds of the Universe” is touted as a return to form for Depeche Mode, with the use of several analog synths and drum machines. Unfortunately, this back-to-basics technique only serves to further highlight the averageness that Depeche Mode has become comfortable with.
It is impossible to not have heard Depeche Mode by now, the band having been an work for everything from hip hop to modern bands like The Killers. As the forefront of the electro rock scene, Depeche Mode rose to great heights, such as playing for 80,000 people at the Rose Bowl in 1988 and even inciting a riot in Los Angeles at a Wherehouse signing in 1990 after the release of its classic album “Violator.”
After a four year break that saw lead singer Dave Gahan overdosing on drugs, Depeche Mode returned one member down but seemingly recharged after the excess of the 1990s with its album “Ultra.” However, “Ultra” was a middling release that failed to reach the creative heights of “Violator” or its previous album “Songs of Faith and Devotion,” and many pointed to the loss of Alan Wilder as the cause.
Wilder was widely reported as the one first in the studio and the last one out. His ability to polish songs until golden was why fans, even now, cry for his return; the other band members were remarkably less interested in the production side of things.
This brings us back to the present with “Sounds of the Universe,” and nowhere else is the want for Alan Wilder heard more than here. “Sounds of the Universe,” the band’s 12th studio album, is, in one word, “comfortable.” In two words, it’s “too comfortable.” The excitement is gone, and the band gives fans what they think they expect: dirty synths and dark lyrics. Best viewed as a companion album to its last venture, “Playing the Angel,” it takes everything bad about that album and makes another album out of it.
“Sounds of the Universe” matches that by failing to produce any true songs that mesh together the best of what Depeche Mode had to offer: inventive sounds, catchy hooks and great vocals. No fan could be faulted for comparing this release to the rest of its catalog. In the 1980s, particularly with the band’s heralded releases “Black Celebration” and “Some Great Reward,” Depeche Mode was not content with what was and strived to find new sounds that divine, with Alan Wilder at the forefront of the movement.
Nowadays, it seems like the songs are made to fit the synths. Comprised of 13 songs, the album sounds as if it was made of one song. Synthesizers, which provide the chance to make music out of anything, even hitting a pipe with a wrench, should make for interesting songs that take advantage of that power.
Instead, Depeche Mode opted to use what feels like the pre sets. Simply put, the band members are not even trying anymore, and they settle for what is good enough but nothing more. They do not grind the song down to find the album, instead allowing for songs like “Hole to Feed” to stagnate in a pool of odd bleeps and bloops that sound more like they came from a video game than of the imagination of an almost 30 year old band.
The album begins with a long confluence of analog sounds that assault the ears but resemble something like trumpets heralding a return back to synths, yet the album fails to live up to its introduction. The album’s first single “Wrong” is the only memorable track, featuring a catchy hook, catchy lyrics and a strong vocal performance from Gahan. The rest of the songs blend together in averageness, and one would be hard pressed to try remembering which title belongs with which song, a problem from which the entire album suffers. Depeche Mode’s fans know it could do better.

Older and wiser, Bob Mould still wants to dance

The beer gut is gone, and so is the sebaceous pile of hair. In fact, anyone who knew Bob Mould as the disheveled lead singer of Minneapolis punk band Hüsker Dü in the 1980s would just recognize him now looking lean, sporting a scholarly beard and speaking in complete sentences. "Isn't it funny how that happens?" he says, calling from his recently home in Washington, D.C. "Do you think it might have had anything to do with the alcohol and drugs and being on the road?"

But it's not just Mould's current acquisition of designer polo shirts that has thrown people off. Since his powerhouse trio imploded in 1988, the 48 year old songwriter has built up one of the most interesting resumes in rock 'n' roll, highlighted by experimental techno albums, writing scripts for World Championship Wrestling and keeping a tell all blog.
Sure, he's also played to form along the way as the former frontman for roaring three piece Sugar and now as a revered solo artist, but for the past six years or so, Mould's most unexpected endeavor has kept him the busiest a gay dance party called Blowoff.
Started as an experiment with dance music producer Richard Morel when he moved to D.C., Mould's speculation quickly grew into a popular monthly party for hundreds of shirtless, sweaty men at the 9:30 Club. The duo subsequently decided to take it on the road, expanding into cities like New York, Chicago and Atlanta. On Saturday, Blowoff celebrates its first anniversary in San Francisco at Slim's.
"I started listening to a lot of electronic music out of boredom with guitar rock," Mould says. He roped Morel, who has worked with Depeche Mode and the Killers, into the deal because he convinced him it would be a good way to meet new people. "I didn't actually leave the house much," Morel says. Luckily, Mould delivered on his promise: "We met a lot of people."
The party boasts an eclectic playlist, with the tag team DJs spinning everything from indie rock and electro pop to straight up house and, well, maybe even a little Kelly Clarkson. "You never know what you're going to get," Morel says.
"I used to be a college radio DJ," Mould says. "I've always played the things I needed people to hear."
In 2006, the duo collaborated on an album called "Blowoff" that they would play live at the parties. Now most of the performance is left up to Morel's partner, Nick Lopata, who creates visuals on a laptop in time with the music using looped scenes from films, television shows and archival footage from the Library of Congress.
"The gay community used to be actually on the cutting edge of dance music until 10 years ago, and then something fell off," Mould says. "It's been our goal to get people back on plate."
He hasn't completely turned his back on the rock world. Mould released a guitar based solo album, "Life and Times," earlier this year and has shows lined up with noise merchants No Age and Dinosaur Jr. He's also playing the Treasure Island Music Festival next month.
So how do the two distinct worlds fit together?
"They really are the same thing, and I had no idea until the last couple of years," Mould says. "A lot of people that used to come to Hüsker and Sugar shows now come to Blowoff. I always suspected the hardcore scene had more homos than I thought. They were always in the crowd, and they were outnumbered. I have no idea how it ended up going full circle, but for that I'm really grateful." {lgsbox}