Not Just the Ticket — #75, Depeche Mode, November 20, 1993

Depeche Mode, the Forum

Then-current album: Songs of Faith and Devotion

Opening act: The The

Back of ticket ad: nothing. How nice, really.

A different ticket color scheme! At last a change! Though this was just for this show and I think it was something picked up at the box office at the Forum itself, as I’ll explain later. Still, I’ll take it just to break up the visual monotony.

So, the biggest band in terms of LA shows in 1993. Hands down.

1993 seemed to be about grunge hangover on the face of it and probably still is in the general memory, at least in terms of rock or alternative or what have you. (In terms of the general music culture, it was probably much more about the run up to Snoop’s debut album than anything else.) Nirvana’s final US tour included a stop at the Forum, while Pearl Jam, then starting to ratchet up their anti-Ticketmaster rhetoric with equivalent action, played their area show that fall out in the Inland Empire or beyond, I forget where, and got their own huge crowd.

But then Depeche Mode announced their shows for the Songs of Faith and Devotion tour and sold out five nights at the Forum almost immediately, and probably could have played more if they hadn’t already had the rest of the tour booked to continue further. So much for Seattle ruling everything.

Of course, that was always a stereotype, and Los Angeles and Depeche were their own self-contained loop of positive reinforcement. (Kinda.) The odd thing about this show was just thinking how much three years had seemed to change so much about…everything? Not really true but I can’t but think how vast the divide was between that Dodger Stadium show from 1990, the ultimate world-conquering ‘you can’t ignore us now, people’ mark of success, and the Forum shows – less so in terms of amount of people performed for or even the change in location, more simply because of the sense of reset expectations, old versus new, generational divides…it was all as if all the rhetoric about what was ‘new’ suddenly actually was put into sharp relief.

Part of it was of course sartorial. When the first pictures of Dave Gahan emerged earlier in the year in the run up to the release of the album I think actually laughed out loud. Now, far be it from me to tell someone how to wear their hair and all, but some people look much, much better with short hair, and Gahan’s one of them. With the long hair and the beard and the general appearance of a scrubbed up Al Jourgensen…no. Very bad idea, very VERY bad idea.

But then there was a lot of talk about how Depeche had gone grunge in general and I was all “Hmm…I have to doubt that.” Years upon years later it’s much easier to see the album as what it is, yet another example of Depeche looking around at what was around and going, “Hmm, why not this?” Of course, it was also the most fractured album they’d yet made, the whole thing is and remains a stitch-up job and everyone admits it now. But what matters most is the end result, and said end-result’s a stunner at its best, a huge gothic sprawl of an album that sounds monumental as hell. If it’s Depeche wanting to rock it’s also Depeche doing things most rock bands in their position wouldn’t be able to do (certainly not when it came to bass, rhythms, Alan Wilder’s arrangements, I could go on).

Then again this is me wearing my music critic hat as well as my slavering Depeche fan hat – at the time I just remember thinking “Whoa…but it’s good! I love it!” And as the months passed in the buildup to seeing them again I just waited patiently and played the album into the ground. If things didn’t feel as honestly huge and anticipatory for me as it did three years ago, well, changes had a lot to do with it – from undergrad to grad life, a new location, a lot more experienced, different foci coming to the fore, a classic example of quick acceleration. And hell, I was still only twenty-two years old so there was much more to come, and my own ideas about things were as chaotically formed as they ever were.

The slight bonus this time came courtesy of how I got into the show – the opening band, at least for this leg of the tour, was The The, who I’d just seen some months prior at the KROQ Weenie Roast. This meant another Sony connection and once again Jen V. was able to finesse a seat. (I admit I never ever minded this.) It wasn’t the best per se but I didn’t need that, I just wanted to get in there, and I knew it had to be at least somewhat better than the up-and-away Dodger Stadium location I’d been in three years prior.

No big memories of getting up to the show and/or stopping at the Sony offices or anything though I assume we did – for me part of the attraction of the evening was going to see a show at the Forum for the first time ever. There had been shows I could have easily seen there that caught my interest – Morrissey’s first solo show in LA two years previous had been there, and I can only imagine what that was like, especially since Bowie joined him on a T. Rex cover. But otherwise it’d just been this building I heard about, and given I wasn’t much of a basketball fan I had no deep feelings about the Lakers or anything. I’d seen it from a distance a few times, though, and had hung about in the parking lot en route to the Tin Machine promo show at LAX, so finally ending up in the building itself was just one of those things I had to do at some point – and why not Depeche as the reason for the first time visit?

So seeing the scope of the place was a treat – I’d been in relatively few enclosed sports arenas like it over time, so it was a bit of a novelty to me still, and I ended up perched in a seat to the side of the stage about a quarter of the way along from it, an angled view but not a bad one. No memory of seatmates or others to chat with around me, just fellow fans. Jen must have been elsewhere doing what work needed doing – at least I think!

The The’s set was at best tepidly received but I did find it a curious mismatch; for all that Matt Johnson and Depeche had started out around the same time in the UK they were hardly the type of acts normally grouped together, unless you stretched and allowed for Johnny Marr’s appearance in The The prior to joining Electronic, who had done the honors back in 1990. Again, a stretch. Compared to the Weenie Roast show there was only one song rather than two that stood out, and again it was “Love is Stronger Than Death,” though lacking that slightly spooked edge from the outdoor surroundings and almost headlining spot on the bill that June evening. Here it was just, well, an opening act’s number.

Depeche’s show that evening – not specifically, but in terms of basic set list, staging and more – is preserved on the Devotional film, which is well worth watching to see what Anton Corbijn was up to then. The whole design of the set, how it was filmed, everything was this amazingly over-saturated and shadowed and red-light-heavy experience, and if the film intensifies it my own experience watching it was still one of feeling a bit overwhelmed, in the best way. Hearing the low electronic growls and thunder effects on “Higher Love” as the place went dark, seeing only the shadows of the band being projected onto the curtains as they performed, made for fantastic theater in any sense.

Of course talking about that whole time now is suffused with the knowledge of just how badly the entire band was suffering through what was the tour that apparently broke everybody involved – Gahan’s near complete drug addiction, Martin Gore’s increasing drinking, Andrew Fletcher on the road to a nervous breakdown, Alan Wilder becoming disenchanted with everything and starting to look towards his departure from the group. And that’s just the bandmembers; apparently most of the support crew had their own issues.

Importantly, of course, none of us saw that or could see that, the whole point in any live show – especially one of this size – is how much the gulf between ‘reality’ and what’s being seen/heard is at any time, and this was not a show of running confessions about how fucked up everyone was becoming. It was about Gahan whipping the crowd up, about all those amazing songs by Gore getting sung along with note for note – everything I’d experienced at the Dodger Stadium show but here somehow intensified and certainly moodier, possibly because of the enclosed space, possibly due to the staging as mentioned, who can say? Maybe that’s what was meant by them going ‘grunge’ given how heavily the storm clouds were gathering over those seen to be leading the way there over the next few months.

So even if there wasn’t anything as moving and amazing as Gore singing “Here is the House” with everyone singing along, it was still Depeche and I was still very glad to be there. But yeah, Dave really should have chopped off that hair. All the sweat made it look really awful by the end.

Not Just the Ticket — #5, Depeche Mode, August 5, 1990

Depeche Mode, Dodger Stadium

Then-current album: Violator

Opening acts: Electronic and Nitzer Ebb

Back of ticket ad: a coupon for a three-piece combo at El Pollo Loco for $2.99. Clearly I didn’t find this tempting.

Ragged on the edges, faded heavy type, little tears here and there — a ticket that went through a few things on the night, I guess. But I don’t have to wonder what it all sounded like that evening, I’m listening to it right now.

I’ve had this bootleg for a while, listened to it a few times, so it didn’t sneak up on me the way that New Order recording did. Hearing a recording, any recording of a show that you were at inevitably changes the context of how you remember it — the sound mix is often radically different, often just depending on whoever taped the show was standing or where they’d set up their mike. I don’t know if it was ever quite so clear on the night, except at one key point, but it sounds pretty clear here, a great audience recording that has some crowd noise right nearby but not so near as to irritate, instead sounding like just one might expect, the reactions of people around you as the songs and exhortations and more go on.

It’s also good to have this bootleg because, somewhat notoriously in the obsessive fandom for Depeche, this is about the only tour since the late eighties not to have had some sort of formal film or live album or DVD or all three released in accompaniment with it. There’s even been comments on the official page about how supposedly there might be a French broadcast film somewhere out there, while a clip of the Anton Corbijn film done for the performance of “Personal Jesus” on the tour also surfaced on the site, but otherwise, out of sight, out of mind — if there’s a full sound mix or film mix or anything of this tour it’s lost somewhere in someone’s archive.

Oh and yes I should mention that this was DEPECHE MODE playing at DODGER STADIUM with something like 75,000 PEOPLE OR MORE while on tour for VIOLATOR and they even got ELECTRONIC which consisted of BERNARD SUMNER OF NEW ORDER and JOHNNY MARR OF THE SMITHS and THE PET SHOP BOYS as guests just to be the OPENING ACT because it was freaking DEPECHE MODE IN THE SUMMER OF 1990 WHEN THEY OWNED THE GODDAMN UNIVERSE HOLY FUCK!

So, yes, I have some memories.

When the remasters came out for Depeche a couple of years back with the DVD documentary films, the one for Violator started the only way it could — with a collage of the news reports in LA on the day that what was supposed to just be a promo signing for Violator‘s release became a full-on, honest to god riot and police action. Here, really, I’m not kidding:

I just remember turning on one of those broadcasts that night and whichever newscaster it was saying “The band…De-pe-chee Mode…” said very, very unsurely. One got the sense that he had never, ever heard of them before, couldn’t understand what the hell had happened, why any of this had occurred, and why he had to talk about it. Well, he knew why he had to talk about it, but one got a sense that his equilibrium had been utterly disturbed.

Me, I was probably cackling quite a lot. It was such a beautiful moment.

Honestly, there was this sense of atmosphere in the air around LA when it came to Depeche that I don’t think I’ve ever felt anywhere since, though there must surely be equivalents and comparison points galore for other people, other bands, other places, other memories. But I was there, I was at a good age for it and it was…Depeche. I’ve already mentioned the somewhat bizarre experience of thinking that everyone on my dorm floor a couple of years before must have gone to the 101 Rose Bowl show, something I just missed getting it together to go to while still down in the San Diego area. I knew who they were, of course, and that year I finally started to scarf up all the albums, so by the time “Personal Jesus” came out in the fall of 1989…

Impressions, impressions. The endless, obsessive playing of that song on KROQ in particular. Of “Dangerous,” the B-side, because that started to get some spillover attention. Of the acoustic version of “Personal Jesus” because it could provide further variety while still being Depeche and that song. This wasn’t just me, this was in the air, on the air, everywhere one seemed to look and listen. Then the MTV airplay really kicked in, and then after a little while “Enjoy the Silence” came out and…

Somewhere around this time is when the riots happened for the signing, and the tickets were announced. Rose Bowl down last time, Dodger Stadium this time. For the first time I found myself in a line waiting for tickets — the announcements had been made in the papers, on the air, the word was out. I went with my friend Kirsten and at least a couple of other folks, all of us planning on buying as many tickets as we could for all our group planning on going, however many it was. I can’t remember, there were a lot of us. There was a lot of everyone else too.

We stood out in the parking lot of the nearest Wherehouse (at least I guess it was a Wherehouse, maybe it was a Tower?) to UCLA, it was a Saturday, no classes, but we’d hauled ourselves far too early — pretty sure that might well have been the first time I fueled up on both coffee and donuts instead of just the latter — and got down there. Well of course there was a line, every place in the basin that was offering tickets had a similar scene in front of it. Again, not a new feeling, not the first time, not the last, but one had a sense that the nation was out there, that everyone was wired and ready to go.

I forget the group draw for the line, I seem to remember some sort of number lottery thing. We got in and we were able to get a batch together for us, and then on the way back to the apartment I remember Kirsten playing “Any Second Now,” one of the band’s earliest songs, on her car tape player, quietly lost in its gentle, instrumental beauty. We later hear that Dodger Stadium has fully sold out…twice. In fact a third show was later added to the Universal Ampitheatre, and I remember being really, really jealous of everyone who would get to see that much more smaller in comparison affair.

It’s summer of 1990 now and I seem to remember that weekend feeling…weird. In a good way. I suddenly recall standing out on the balcony of the apartment the day before the show — the weather was strange, the world was unsettled (more about that shortly), things felt anticipatory and wonderful and weird. It was the biggest show I had ever seen until then, it featured a band I was fully committed and in for, the opening acts were both favorites too, life was strange, life was great. I was nineteen, I was loving it, loving it, LOVING it.

I next recall the parking lot and the stadium sitting in the distance — not the first baseball stadium I’d been to but somehow all the much more looming and mysterious in the long summer sunset haze. Our group parked and walked and walked, endless amounts of bootleg shirts were offered for sale, we slowly made our way up and up to our seats. High, high above right field, looking down at the stage at dizzying angles, partially obscured by the stage’s superstructure.

We missed Nitzer Ebb but Electronic had put on a good set, though the better part of a year out from the release of the album meant that I only knew “Getting Away From It” from said set, and that it was great to see Sumner, Marr and the Pet Shop Boys all on stage at once.

Things turned even more dreamlike after that for me, and still feel that way. The world was unsettled because Iraq had just invaded Kuwait a few days before — and when you think about everything and anything that has happened since then, that event that occurred when the Cold War still had a year-plus to run but nobody knew it would end as it did, then the fact that everything suddenly seemed all the more unsure than before was all that much more of a strange harbringer. A romantic view in a perverse sense, but I felt in that packed stadium of increasing intensity and excitement a strange floating distance, heightened by where we were in the stadium, hanging in space and watching the shadows lengthen.

And watching the clouds come in. People had talked to me with amazed wonder about the 101 show because during the show it had done something that doesn’t really happen in LA at all during late spring to mid-fall — it had rained. Out of nowhere, a burst of rain during that show, seemingly timed to arrive and depart at crucial moments. That night in Dodger Stadium I saw another batch of clouds come, appearing over the edge of the stadium’s curve…and I started to feel the rain. I was now even more swept away on visions of romantic grandeur, it seemed that Depeche brought the rain.

The thunder and the lightning followed. Really.

I couldn’t believe that. I still can’t but by god, there it was, and we were all pretty astounded too. It wasn’t constant but it was often, and the way that the stadium curve framed it, if you were looking straight at the stage, right behind it would be clouds in a rapidly darkening sky, the wet smack of rain, then thunder, then lightning and thunder. At one point two bolts went off almost simultaneously, and it almost seemed to frame the stage in the distance from our angle at least. The screams for that from the audience, of thrilled delight and a tinge of fear.

All that was needed was four guys from England to stroll on to stage and start playing a few songs.

Again, I’m listening to the bootleg now, from that specific night, that specific show. Everything they did, there it is, clear sound and all. But that’s not how I felt it or remembered it, no, there I was hanging high in the sky on seats that seemed to float, and down below were lights and images, keyboards and tiny figures, Dave Gahan running around and getting everyone going…

Because of the rain, not drenching but present enough, I remember more than once the amusing sight of a batch of roadies dashing out between songs with towels, rapidly mopping up water in swirling motions from the stage floor and then just as quickly disappearing again. I remember Kirsten letting out a cheer and a thrilled wail more than once. I remember looking around me and noticing that our bunch, mostly white or Asian in background, seemed to be smack dab in the middle of a huge crowd of Iranians, which I thought was pretty cool. (In the just released film The Posters Came From the Walls, a story about obsessive Depeche fandom across the world and across the decades, there’s a story about actual Depeche fans in Iran getting harassed for the way they dressed. Depeche owns the world, even those who hate them have to react to them. I could go on. I already have been, this is just one show, just the first.)

I can hear, I am hearing, the performances on the night, but I do remember how all the songs from Violator sounded great, how powerful “Never Let Me Down Again” was, how the concluding “Behind the Wheel/Route 66″ killed — even as Gahan sounds a bit ragged at points on the recording, I didn’t remember that, I didn’t need to remember that, didn’t want to, really. It’s not that I remember it being a perfect performance, I just remembered it being something else, a live-wire monumentalism on all fronts.

I also remember something that this recording just doesn’t capture at all. It captures the performance, but not the key part of it.

For the longest time in the world of Depeche tours, there’s been something of a mid-show tradition where Martin Gore steps out from being the backing singer and performer and takes a turn on lead vocals. In this case, it was just him and an acoustic guitar while the rest of the band took whatever kind of break suited them. He played two songs a night, altering it up as he chose.

The second song this night was from Violator, “Sweetest Perfection,” but the first was a touch more obscure — “Here is the House,” a song from the second half of the Black Celebration album, never released as a single or even a B-side or anything like that. If you knew the song, you had to know it because you sought it out, you had the album, you’d played it a lot — you didn’t just have or had only heard the singles. It’s a really lovely song, a favorite of mine, a bit of gentle energy and yearning and desire amid the extremely bleak grinddown of that album’s second half. (And don’t get me wrong, I like that grinddown. A LOT.) But again, only those who really took the time to get into Depeche would know it.

It was probably on the second verse that I realized something, and I had to look around me to confirm it, and I couldn’t look around the whole stadium to confirm it on the broadest scale but I sure as hell knew that my ears weren’t lying.

Martin Gore was quietly singing and playing a deep album cut from an album that was four years old at that point…and the ENTIRE stadium, that group of 75,000 or however many people it was in the end, was singing along.

This bootleg recording couldn’t capture that, but the biggest IMAX screen with the ultimate sound mix couldn’t, I think. Memory will have to do.

A LONG-overdue AMG review catchup

Hooboy, where have I been. Well, busy as noted, but I wanted to at least get this together while I could. The biggest review I’ve done for them lately has easily been the one for Sounds of the Universe by Depeche Mode, thanks to the profile of the group in question and all that. (Debuted at #3 on the charts in the US, not bad!) But as ever there’s a lot of different reviews out there I’ve done…

“…WRONG!”

(And no, not a McLaughlin Group reference.)

This seems to be a day for talking about music for me, but there’s a good reason for it thanks to one of my all time favorite ever groups Depeche Mode spending yesterday announcing tour dates and details about their new album Sounds of the Universe and then today premiering their new single “Wrong” via a German award show appearance — and god bless the Internet since this means we can all see it at once, and more importantly, hear it:

Lord, what a band. More importantly to my ears, this is the first lead single in quite this strident vein in a long time from them, and the arrangement feels very Black Celebration, rewired and reworked. The August shows now seem too far away…

Your briefly telling moment of the day re: the McCain campaign

There’s lots of stuff out there right now, of course, but buried deep in this story about the last-ditch legal battle over the Branchflower investigation is this nugget:

[Local attorney Kevin] Clarkson acknowledged he’s also working with, though not receiving payment from, the McCain-Palin campaign.

“Have I talked to them? Sure. Do they tell me what to do? No,” he said, adding: “Sometimes they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Which, appropriately I think, reminds me of this Depeche Mode song, and imagining Mr. Clarkson singing it back to the campaign:

Sometimes
Only sometimes
I question everything
And I’m the first to admit
If you catch me in a mood like this
I can be tiring
Even embarrassing

But you must
Feel the same
When you look around
You can’t tell me honestly
You’re happy with what you see
Oh sometimes
Only sometimes

You must be
You must be
As embarrassing as me
Sometimes

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Way too tired to think of an April Fool’s

And even if I did it would be somewhat overwrought. So a quick vote for my favorite one of the day — Depeche Mode’s:

When the band were recording their “Black Celebration” album, the boys took a break, and recorded a full album of “oldies”. Named “Toast Hawaii” (after Fletch’s favorite food item at the recording studio cafeteria, and later used as the name of Fletch’s record label), the album has not been heard outside of the “inner circle” of Depeche Mode’s friends since the 1986 recording…until now.

All copies of the album were thought lost, until Mr Gore found a cassette copy of “Toast Hawaii” in a box of old cassettes. After extensive remastering, the project is ready to be released.

Following recent web releases by bands such as Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails, the “Toast Hawaii” album will be a web release. Starting April 8th, fans will be able to purchase multiple formats of the album:

$10: The full album in your preferred digital format (AAC, MP3, FLAC, WAV)
$20: The full album in digital format, along with a copy of the album on compact disc, autographed by Fletch.
$40: The full album in digital format, along with a copy of the album on compact disc, not autographed by Fletch.

I freely admit it didn’t hit me this was a joke until that final part.

Otherwise it’s another busy slog of reviews and other work for me tonight, and will be tomorrow as well. Patience, faithful readers — and I know you’re out there! — and I’ll be posting more soon. But academic quarters take out their own time, as does all the writing work I do. Hope everything’s well — and if all goes as planned, I’ll have a long overdue garden update tomorrow…

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