Depeche Mode - Violator
We like to put things into our little boxes. It’s this or it’s that. We do this in every facet of life. Humans are hierarchical and categorical. But we’re also selfish. We all want to be at the top of that hierarchy and control the categories, whether we’re equipped to do that or not. It’s why you have people saying things like, “Punk is doing whatever you want. Be yourself.” And that same person saying, “That’s not punk.”
As a person who learned very early that he doesn’t fit into most people’s boxes, I’ve been drawn to other people who, in Nick Cave’s words, “live outside of people’s expectations.” But this takes guts. A lot of guts. Most people are not patient or forgiving. They don’t want to get to know you, they want to sum you up in five seconds so they can judge you. And, if they do like you, but down the road, you change or let something out that they don’t like, you become persona non grata.
I’ve had a lot of people recently ask me about my sudden use of synths in my music and it’s a lot more natural than it appears. Yes, once I stumble onto something (or in this case, stumble back onto something) I do get obsessive, but it wasn’t calculated. One, my childhood was the 80s, synths were unavoidable. I was always enamored with Jans Hammer’s opening music to Miami Vice (which was my dad’s favorite show). Two, as a dude who spent most of his life in bands, writing for bands, who suddenly found himself making music alone, with the limitless sounds that Digital Audio Workstations (DAW) allow you, well, I was like a kid in a candy store. And that also means going out and listening to how people have used them, for better or for worse, in the past.
The two places I started were Kavinsky (Drive soundtrack) and Depeche Mode. Both led me down long rabbit holes of discovering, or rediscovering, music, but I keep returning to Depeche Mode. Why? Because ultimately what I care about are songs and Martin Gore is an amazing songwriter and they have an ability to push their boundaries when needed and to show restraint when needed.
Why is Violator Special?
Violator was their seventh album. Yes, you read that right. They’d had some hits and success in other parts of the world, but the swell to Violator was swift. If you watch D.A. Pennebaker’s Depeche Mode 101, which followed the boys on their 1989 American tour for Music for the Masses, they played for about 1,000 people in Nashville, visiting Ernest Tubb’s Record Store on Lower Broadway, completely unrecognized before the film and tour ends at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena playing for 65,000 fans. Yes, L.A. back then would’ve been hipper than Nashville, but also, America was catching on. Although, you can also blame this film for launching reality TV, as MTV would see the success of this film and follow up with Real World soon after.
The irony is thick, that Music for the Masses was not actually for the masses (the title was an inside joke), but that by the time they finished touring for that album, they were poised for a major breakthrough with their first album of the 90s. It would have been easy to just keep doing things the way they’d done them before and just keep trying to keep building the fan base. After all, most artists, after selling out the Rose Bowl, would feel pretty safe and know the money is about to roll in.
Not Depeche Mode.
Instead of Martin Gore coming in with nearly finished demos and the band having extensive pre-production meetings about how the album would sound, the decided to keep the pre-production to a minimum. Each member of the band had a clearly defined role and they all respected each other enough to let everyone play their role. Alan Wilder, the arranger, asked for Gore’s demoes to be bare bones and Gore obliged. Gore brought in the tapes and Wilder, along with co-producer Flood, built them up from the ground. The most obvious example is Gore’s slow ballad demo of “Enjoy the Silence” which Wilder and Flood put a “disco” beat to in the studio. And as they say, the rest is history.
Musically, this album is still built on synths, but they’re not relied upon in the same ways as their previous works, or the sound of any pop artist in the 80s. There is enough space in most of these songs to drive a freight train through, but they still sound massive. These songs were built to be played in arenas and to give the audience a pseudo-spiritual experience. Gore also started to show off how melodically talented he is. Yes, he wrote all those great synth lines, but the guitar on this record is so perfect, most people don’t even recognize it. From the bluesy riff of “Personal Jesus” to the hook in “Enjoy the Silence”, everything they did, from the drum machines to Dave’s voice, was in service to the song.
Lyrically, you could write a book on the layers of a Martin Gore lyric. Most people, especially music critics, don’t want to think past their genitals and if you read or listen to anyone talk about Depeche Mode, it’s only about sex or how “bible thumping America” was too dumb to be upset about it. You don’t have to insert sex into Gore’s lyrics, it’s there already, at least in some songs. However, if you listen (or read) in context, what he’s usually getting at is what that says about us as human beings. I don’t get the sense he’s making a judgment call about things, but he is saying, “this is who we are, this is what we do, this is how we’re wired.” I am far more interested in exploring this intellectual territory than I am in something so base and animalistic as “WAP” (for example). Sometimes Gore has spoken directly about this and sometimes he has not, but it’s not stopped people from thinking with their genitals either way.
Looking back, I kind of get why albums like this one or Achtung Baby seem to get over-looked a bit. These records were released in that musical No Man’s Land between Appetite for Destruction and Nevermind. After Nevermind, the 90s were heavily dominated by guitar music and rap, before the decade ended with Nu Metal and manufactured bubble gum pop. These records are not like the records U2 or Depeche Mode made in the 80s, but they’re not like the other records made in the 80s or 90s either. It’s sorta the best of both worlds. Yes, artists like Trent Reznor pulled these sounds in his direction, but Nine Inch Nails used a TON of guitars and, at least in attitude, were in line with the self-loathing and angst that grunge ushered in. There’s some angst on Achtung Baby and Violator, but it’s an adult angst, it’s not youthful. And, for sure, those albums are light on self-loathing.
I don’t know where I’d put this record on my greatest of all-time list, and it’d be difficult to know where I’d put it on my best of the 90s too, but I promise you it’d be on both lists somewhere. Much like I’ve said about Nick Cave, this record has given me permission to explore things lyrically and musically that I’ve been afraid to explore before. That doesn’t mean I’m exploring the same topics necessarily, just that I feel more comfortable in those dark corners of my own heart and mind and dig out all those things that need to be dealt with and put to bed.