Music For The Masses / Violator

About

If you had to pinpoint an exact date and location for the moment that Depeche Mode morphed from cult British band to million-selling mainstream succe, it would be March 20, 1990 at Los Angeles music emporium Wherehouse Record. It was here that the then-quartet turned up for an in-store performance to celebrate the release of their seventh record <i>Violator</i>. The shop could hold 150 people. An estimated 17,000 fans turned up. With the numbers swelling, police evacuated the band from the store and shut the place down, prompting disgruntled members of the waiting crowd to start rioting. The furor made evening news reports across the country. Depeche Mode had become the big story. From the outside, 1990’s <i>Violator</i> felt very much like the record that everything had been leading up to for the electro pioneers from Basildon. Their triumphant live album, <i>101</i>, released the previous year, captured an exhilarating performance at California’s Rose Bowl and seemed very much the image of a band who had already joined the top tier. But inside the group, there was frustration. Keyboardist, guitarist, and chief songwriter Martin Gore felt as if they were hitting their heads against a brick wall in the State, bemoaning that a run of records dating back to 1984’s <i>Some Great Reward</i> had all achieved similar sale. Creatively too, there was some agitation. Keyboardist Alan Wilder had grown fed up with arriving at album sessions to find fully fleshed-out demo versions leaving little room for maneuver. Encouraged by producer Flood, they switched up their way of working. Nowhere is the recalibration more evident than on <i>Violator</i>’s BRIT Award-winning second single. Starting life as a stark, ghostly Gore ballad, “Enjoy the Silence” was reworked by Wilder into a euphoric, expansive banger. Its fusion of epic rock dynamism with pulsing, ecstatic beats perfectly captured where Depeche Mode were as a band as the ’80s became the ’90. The clubbier aspects of <i>Violator</i> were designed to reflect their influence on the burgeoning Detroit house scene, with the more techno-rock sonics nodding to the shadow they’d cast over a New Wave of acolyte, Nine Inch Nails among them. They were emboldened to go further and bigger than they ever had before: the dystopian blues march of “Personal Jesu,” the cascading rhythmic groove of “World in My Eye,” the rewired alt-rock of “Policy of Truth.” .

via Apple Music

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