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Tunes

Top five tunes: Industrial rock

The context:
I got the idea to do another one of these genre-themed Top Five Tunes posts*, more specifically, one dedicated to the alternative rock sub genre of Industrial rock, back in June when I was writing about how I first listened to Nine Inch Nails’ “Pretty hate machine” and naming it my second favourite album of 1989. I got so fired up thinking about the passion I felt and the rage I latched onto when I first discovered this sound and immediately started trying distill all my favourites from the era down to five. I wanted to write the post right away, to forget all the half-written and not yet started posts in the hopper, and unleash this fun upon you all. But I restrained myself. I wanted to finish up my three-part Depeche Mode series I was still working on and you can bet, as soon as I managed that, I got right down to this piece.

If you’ve already read or just now linked back to read the words on “Pretty hate machine”, you’ll know that that album was my gateway to the genre. I loved the term ‘Industrial’.  It so perfectly described the sound. I much later learned that it was coined by one of the genre’s forefather groups, Throbbing Gristle, in the 1970s, when they called own record label ‘Industrial Records’ and adopted the slogan ‘Industrial music for Industrial people’.  Their electronically inclined music (if you can even call it that) and that of their contemporaries, Cabaret Voltaire and Einstürzende Neubauten, was very experimental, eschewing normal song structures for a focus on message and live performance as art. This aesthetic would leak into the head of David Bowie during his Berlin period and then, find itself deeply entrenched in the recordings of Joy Division (and later, New Order) and their post-punk contemporaries.

Arguably, the moment avant-garde Industrial music began to evolve into what would become Industrial rock was when Kevin Ogilvie, frontman of Canadian Throbbing Gristle acolytes Skinny Puppy, started hanging out and exchanging ideas with Al Jourgensen, who was just starting to find his own voice with Ministry. That’s obviously over simplifying things and putting a lot of emphasis on this one meeting. Indeed, there was already a lot exciting things happening in Chicago, home of Jourgensen and Wax Trax! Records, which ended up being the de facto home of all things Industrial rock. However, those two musicians formed a short-lived side project called PTP, and then, each appeared on and influenced the other’s main project’s next releases. This started an incestuous trend (particularly with Jourgensen) of different groups from the Industrial rock world working with each other, sharing ideas, and forming one-off side projects to produce and release new music. This happened a lot during the late 1980s and early 1990s, a period I consider to be the genre’s renaissance.

It wasn’t a big leap for me to find Ministry after falling in love with the angst and rage of Nine Inch Nails. And from there, I began to check out every band I could find that had been tagged with the dark and spiky Industrial rock label. KMFDM, Nitzer Ebb, Revolting Cocks, Die Warzau, Laibach, The Young Gods, Front Line Assembly, My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, and even, Filter. They all crossed my plate. I even picked up on some bands just because they were falsely identified to me as Industrial rock, Jane’s Addiction being a prime example. By the time Trent Reznor released his sophomore album, “The downward spiral” in 1994, the term ‘Industrial’ was on everyone’s lips. And so began the further evolution and filtering down of Industrial rock into Industrial metal and Industrial dance and the leeching of the sound into the hearts and minds of other alternative rock bands. Just for an example, it was shortly after this time that Grebo stalwarts Ned’s Atomic Dustbin and Pop Will Eat Itself both released albums heavily influenced by all that was going on in the Industrial rock world.

It was here that I parted ways with the genre. I still kept my ear to the ground somewhat, still appreciating the new work of some of my favourites, like Ministry and Nine Inch Nails. And who could ignore Marilyn Manson’s shock rock brand of Industrial metal once he hit the scene? But that brief seven or eight year period is frozen in time for me. I often go long periods without listening to these bands because my tastes have evolved a ton since those days but whenever one of these tracks slips on, the alternative dance club memories from those days come flooding back.

So if you’re ready for a bit of rage and angst, let’s have a look at my top five favourite Industrial rock tunes. And hey, share your own thoughts, memories, and favourites from this period in the comments section below.

The top five:

#5: “Supernaut” by 1000 Homo DJs (1990)

Yeah. You might recognize a few of the guys in the above photo. 1000 Homo DJs were one of the many Industrial rock side projects that I alluded to above. In this case, the outlet was one for members of Ministry that started around the time of the recording sessions for “The land of rape and honey”. 1000 Homo DJs only ever released a couple of EPs and a handful of singles and in the liner notes for each, pseudonyms were provided in lieu of the real names of the various participating members, though we know for a fact that Al Jourgensen, at different points, enlisted the help of Jello Biafra and Trent Reznor, among others. In fact, Trent recorded the original vocals for this very cover of Black Sabbath’s “Supernaut”. However, his label at the time, TVT, wouldn’t let Jourgensen use them on the release. Some people have always thought that Jourgensen simply added effects to Reznor’s vocals and muffled things up to disguise them but he has always maintained that he re-recorded them himself, doing his best impression of his friend. The version below features good ole Al but you can easily find Reznor’s version out there on the Internet because it was later released on the Black Box Wax Trax! boxset. I’ve always loved both versions of this tune. The chainsaw guitars, the dance floor shaking drum beat, the drug referencing samples, and the distorted screaming vocals. “I want to reach out and touch the sky. I want to touch the sun but I don’t need to fly.” It is rage and ecstasy personified.


#4: “Join in the chant” by Nitzer Ebb (1987)

“Lies, lies, lies, lies. Gold, gold, gold, gold. Guns, guns, guns, guns. Fire, fire, fire.” Whoever else has shouted along with those four lines of repeated words on the dancefloor knows Nitzer Ebb and their brand of dance ready Industrial rock (aka EBM). Despite their German sounding name, the trio of “Bon” Harris, Douglas McCarthy, and David Gooday was actually formed in Essex, England in 1982. The post-punk influenced act self-released a bunch of singles before being picked up by Mute Records in 1986, an indie label known for its roster of prominent electronic artists. Their debut album, “That total age”, was released in 1987 and with it came three of the group’s biggest hits, of which “Join in the chant” was but one. I came upon the group a few years after this album came out when I saw the video for “Control I’m here’ and thought the sound hilarious and compelling at the same time. Then, I remember overhearing classmates talking about them at high school and found myself drawn into them further. “Join in the chant” has since become a favourite of mine, mostly because of the sheer number of times I have drunkenly danced and shuffled and jumped about to its angry rhythms. The song is all manner of synths, at various different levels on the spectrum, all doing double duty as rhythm and melody, computers sampled and filtered as percussion. Other than that and the vocals, Nitzer Ebb’s sound here is quite minimalist and insular. And those vocals, tribal and repetitive, as if indoctrinating their audiences as much as entertaining them, dancing and education, rage and angst. Join in the chant.


#3: “Juke joint jezabel” by KMFDM (1995)

In spite of the rumour that was spread, partly from a joke started by the band themselves, their initialism name does not actually stand for “Kill mother f*cking Depeche Mode”. Instead, it was shortened from an already bastardized German phrase, which meant, “No pity for the majority”. The group was formed in 1984 and continues strong today, though with all the musicians that have come and gone over the years, the only remaining founding member is vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Saschia Konietzko. They are renowned for their live show. I’ve never seen them myself, but by all accounts, it’s mayhem. I always picture something akin to a dark and twisted sideshow circus. This, of course, all stems from their early days and beginnings as a performance art troupe, their message almost more important than having a cohesive song structure, much like the early Industrial pioneers. Interesting, then, that KMFDM got so popular and successful and that they are seen as one of the main groups responsible for bringing Industrial rock into the mainstream. This song here is a big reason why, easily their most recognizable tune, owing mainly to the inclusion of a remix of the song on the “Mortal Kombat” soundtrack. “Be mine, sister salvation. Juke joint Jezebel is coming for my cremation.” It is pure science fiction dystopia with chain saw guitars looping throughout and dark, breathy, pained vocals, pain verging on ecstasy. It is an epic and thunderous booming beat. A backing gospel choir ups the ante to monumental, towering heights. “Juke joint jezebel” is a song seething with sweat and pheromones, sticky PVC clothing, cheap piercings, riding crops, and dog collars. Doesn’t it sound lovely?


#2: “Ministry” by Ministry (1989)

A fine product of the aforementioned meeting of the minds between Ministry head honcho Al Jourgensen and Skinny Puppy frontman, Kevin ‘Nivek Ogre’ Ogilvie, “Thieves” is the track that opens Ministry’s fourth studio album, “The mind is a terrible thing to taste”. Though the material produced around this time is among their fans’ favourites, Jourgensen and the rest of the band don’t think all that much of it. It’s definitely more aggressive and guitar heavy than the previous work and forced Jourgensen to grow the ranks of the band to include two drummers, multiple vocalists, and a platoon of guitarists just to be able to perform the stuff live. I think it was my friend Tim that turned me on to this particular track by putting it on one of the mixed tapes he made for me back in high school. It quickly became a favourite for turning up loud to let loose the pent up teenage rage and angst. The anger and venom and hatred is palpable in the track. It’s Jourgensen at his anti-political best, unleashing his vitriol at the US president at the time, George Bush. “Thieves, thieves and liars, murderers, hypocrites and bastards.” The sampling here is done to great effect as well, filling the gaps in between Jourgensen’s unmistakable message with choice words by R. Lee Ermey’s drill instructor character from the film “Full Metal Jacket”. A frenetic and incessant guitar riff that sounds like a pneumatic drill is interspersed with other whirring sounds that could be saws or rivet guns and punishing drum machines. And then at each chorus, the pace speeds up tenfold into thrash metal territory and all you can do is whip your head around and scream along with the Jourgensen’s crazed, growling chants.


#1: “Head like a hole” by Nine Inch Nails (1989)

Perhaps this choice for number one is an obvious one, especially had you gone back to read the post I mentioned earlier on the album on which this appears. How could this not be my number one though? It was my introduction to the genre. You’re lucky I didn’t stuff this whole list with songs from “Pretty hate machine” and perhaps the “Broken EP” that followed, given that this is pretty much the only music from the genre that I might regularly think to put on these days. “Head like a hole” really is an excellent tune. Apparently, it was written by Trent Reznor in about fifteen minutes and it was the least agonized over track on his debut album. So imagine his surprise when it became so big and has had such staying power. My teenage self definitely identified with it back in the day, as did so many others, and it wasn’t necessarily the words but the feelings they invoked. It isn’t really clear what he is talking about and many have superimposed their own meanings on it but taken in the context of the whole diary of “Pretty hate machine”, you might wager that all this vitriol is aimed at that same woman that broke his heart. “Head like a hole, black as your soul. I’d rather die than give you control.” It is an organized chaos of mechanical percussion, layered and piled at different rates. The underpinned drum beat is explosive, simple but angry, and the menacing synths threaten violence at every turn and this threat turns real everytime the chorus rolls around and the ripping guitars rear their demonic heads. Reznor delivers the goods here, backed up by sampled, tribal chants and unbridled emotion. Not bad for a machine of hate.


*See the one I did on Second wave ska here.

For other top five lists in this series, click here.

Categories
Tunes

Top five tunes: Depeche Mode (21st century edition)

Who? Depeche Mode

Years active: 1980-present

Band members:
Dave Gahan (vocals) 1980-present
Martin Gore (vocals, keyboards, guitars) 1980-present
Andy Fletcher (keyboards, backing vocals) 1980-present
Vince Clarke (keyboards, lead and backing vocals, guitars) 1980–1981
Alan Wilder (keyboards, piano, drums, backing vocals) 1982–1995

Discography (21st century):
Exciter (2001)
Playing the angel (2005)
Sounds of the universe (2009)
Delta machine (2013)
Spirit (2017)

Context:
As it stands right now, Depeche Mode will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in just over two weeks. This year’s ceremony was pushed back from the spring, when it is traditionally held, and now, instead of a live event, a special is due to be televised on HBO on November 7th. In any event, we’ve been assured the induction will happen and in their 40th year in existence, Depeche Mode, the iconic synthpop and alternative rock band will be a part of the action.

At the beginning of 2020, I came up with this idea of celebrating Mode’s 40 years by doing a three-part series focusing on some of their best tunes over the years. I usually try to distill a band’s or artist’s best tunes down to a top five for this series but given this band’s longevity, how long I’ve been following them, and how much their music has meant to me over my own bunch of decades, I decided to spread it out over three top five tunes posts, each focusing on a portion of their career. I posted part one on Depeche Mode’s first and most prolific decade together, the 1980s, back at the end of January. I was hoping to have this whole series wrapped up by the end of July but didn’t get around to posting part two on the band’s 1990s catalogue until pretty much the end of August. Here we are now nearing the end of October and I’m finally presenting the third and final chapter, the one where I will count down my favourite five of their tunes from the 21st century. Yeah. I did it.

I actually thought after posting the last part in this series that the steam I managed to gather would carry on and I’d just bang this one out right away. I honestly didn’t know how much I’d have to write about them after all I’ve done so far. The 80s and 90s were my favourite Depeche Mode years by far. Still, they’ve managed to stay very relevant this century, releasing a new album every four years since 2001. And though I haven’t been as excited about a new release since 1997’s “Ultra”, I’ve stopped and paid attention to each of the five albums the band released when they came out. And on each, there’s been at least one or two excellent tracks worthy of this iconic group and their storied discography.

So yeah, the 21st century, Depeche Mode worked with Mark Bell, Ben Hillier, Flood, and James Flood. They flirted with techno and all of its derivatives, all styles of music upon which Depeche Mode was one of the greatest influences, and though the results were decidedly mixed, it showed that the band was continuing to forward think. Indeed, Depeche Mode have never been a band to rest on their laurels and bank on past successes and the five tunes below will highlight some new classic tunes that are just as timeless as anything they’ve produced in the past. If they continue the trend that they started back in 2001, we should be seeing new music from the trio in 2021 but until then, have a gander here at their recent past and of course, sit back to enjoy the music.

The top five:

#5: Peace (from “Sounds of the universe”, 2009)

We start this top five with the second single released off Mode’s 12th (!) studio album, 2009’s “Sounds of the universe”. Martin Gore, the band’s principal songwriter, has called it one of his favourite songs he has ever written, this on account of its ’spiritual’ feel. David Gahan, the main voice of the group has said that for him, “it represents the joy and ecstasy of everything looking better, tasting better, sounding better.” The song starts off all heavy percussive low end synths with high end electronic beats, flittering and frittering digital party streamers, and then, more synth washes give way to breakbeats and other flourishes, Gahan gets all exultant, even breaking out the falsetto just before that breathtaking chorus, yeah, an unusually optimistic note, the repetition of the refrain: “Peace will come to me”. Gore joins in and it all sounds like we should be hearing this from the highest peak, monks and other spiritualists and the like.


#4: A pain that I’m used to (from “Playing the angel”, 2005)

From uplifting and optimistic, we move directly into more familiar Depeche Mode territory: sleek, dark, and sexy. The opening track off 2005’s “Playing the angel” was released as its second single. It is like the older and wiser and infinitely more lecherous cousin to “Master and servant”. “There’s a hole in your soul like an animal with no conscience, repentance unknown. Close your eyes, pay the price for your paradise. Devils feed on the seeds that are sown.” It feels kind of like industrial light, some bass heavy drumming, half human and half computer, alarming tidal wave synths wash and crush, left and right. Gore breaks out some guitar chops, dusting off the rock and roll stance. Everyone wears sunglasses here. Purgatory and pain. Angelic voices with broken wings. Atonement does not come easy.


#3: Where’s the revolution (from “Spirit”, 2017)

The first single from 2017’s “Spirit”, Depeche Mode’s last album to date, was a real eye-opener and call to arms. This isn’t the sound of a decades old band cashing in old cheques. No. This is Mode getting political, something they did on occasion, but haven’t for decades. “Where’s the revolution? Come on, people. You’re letting me down.” Tentative vibrations are answered by a twitchy and anxious beat, more of that industrial aesthetic, factory thumps and whistling steam exhaust, feet stomping like a military parade in a dystopian, fascist state. Fist pumps and salutes. Gahan is older but his voice has aged like fine whiskey and rather than grow stoic, he’s let the fire spread to conflagration. Fletch and Gore are right behind him, the muscle with arms crossed and sunglasses reflecting rage and moral superiority. These are big brothers but they’re not just watching, they’re calling you out to action.


#2: Dream on (from “Exciter”, 2001)

The runner up track on this particular list was the first single to be released by Depeche Mode in the 21st century. I’ve already written some pretty decent words on this very track when it made an appearance at number 18 on my Best tunes of 2001 list. So excuse me, while I plagiarize myself a little bit here. “You can hear the influence of producer Mark Bell (LFO, Björk) with the EDM beats throughout the record but here, it’s augmented by a bluesy acoustic guitar riff that just doesn’t quit. Dave Gahan’s vocal work is almost soulful and old-timey, clear and front of the palette of the austere production with Martin Gore adding his usual flourishes at opportune moments. Gore’s song subject is an addict hitting rock bottom and you feel that he is a addressing a woman he could love if she would give him the chance. But it’s Gahan that is singing the words and he does so from a place of experience.”


#1: Precious (from “Playing the angel”, 2005)

There’s a very good reason that there’s two songs on this list from 2005’s “Playing the angel” and that’s because, in this blogger’s humble opinion, that album is Depeche Mode’s best album since the 1990s. And this particular track, “Precious”, is the group’s best in a very, very long time. It’s got all of the hallmarks of Depeche Mode at their peak. A driven beat, dark and insular tones, an atmosphere of its own, nay, a world of its own, a wicked hook, and a draw to the dance floor. Not just any dance floor though. I’m thinking of your local vampire bar, dry ice and lasers, leather and PVC everywhere, dyed black hair and tattoos and piercings, and yeah, perhaps some sharp fangs. Martin Gore was at the top of his game when composing this wonder and David Gahan invoked some deep romance in his vocals. “If God has a master plan, that only He understands, I hope it’s your eyes He’s seeing through.” It’s precious and beautiful and pure Depeche Mode. Let’s hope we hear more of this very soon.


For other top five lists in this series, click here.

Categories
Tunes

Top five tunes: Depeche Mode (1990s edition)

Who? Depeche Mode

Years active: 1980-present

Band members:
Dave Gahan (vocals) 1980-present
Martin Gore (vocals, keyboards, guitars) 1980-present
Andy Fletcher (keyboards, backing vocals) 1980-present
Vince Clarke (keyboards, lead and backing vocals, guitars) 1980–1981
Alan Wilder (keyboards, piano, drums, backing vocals) 1982–1995

Discography (1990s):
Violator (1990)
Songs of faith and devotion (1993)
Ultra (1997)

Context:
It was way back at the end of January that I posted the first part of this series. I got the idea to do a three part “Top five tunes” series of posts on Depeche Mode when I read the news late last year that they would be celebrating their 40th anniversary together in 2020. I focused on their 1980s back catalogue in that first post and I was hoping to post this second part focusing on their output from the 1990s back in March but that obviously didn’t happen. And it’s pretty obvious by now that my plans of wrapping things up with a final post on the rest of their work before the end of July is dead in the water. However, I’m still optimistic that I can wrap this one up before the year is out.

A lot has transpired since I started writing for this series back in January (and since I actually started writing this post at the end of March). And I’m not just talking about the announcement that Mode was named part of the class of 2020 for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, though that ceremony has been delayed now until the end of the year. You might have also heard talk about this thing called COVID-19 and the havoc it is wreaking on what we have all come to know as our ‘normal lives’. Indeed, the pandemic likely had a huge impact on whatever plans the three remaining members of Depeche Mode were hatching to celebrate this year, much as it has for musicians the world over, whether it be album releases or tours or music festival appearances. Everything ‘normal’ has pretty much ground to a halt and our purveyors of music have had to find innovative ways, mostly via social media, to stay creative and relevant. My own personal celebration of Mode’s 40 years can still continue, as it must, albeit perhaps at a slower pace than I was planning.

I mentioned in passing back in January that my first real introduction to the band came by way of “Personal Jesus”. It was released as a single in 1989 and appeared on their 1990 album “Violator”. If you’ve gone back to check, you’ll notice that the song didn’t appear in my 1980s top five and that’s because I’ve always lumped it in with their 90s output, so (*spoiler alert*) don’t be surprised to see it below. “Violator” really blew things wide open for Depeche Mode, continuing the work of exposing them to a worldwide market that “Music for the masses” and its ensuing tour began. They would only go on to release two more albums in the 90s but each were, if not as iconic as “Violator”, at least tremendously successful and continued to build on the momentum from the album before.

I had become a serious fan in the years between the releases of “Violator” and “Songs of faith and devotion” and I distinctly remember the first time I heard anything new from the latter album. That’s right, a certain song came on the radio while I was working kitchen at the King Street Bar & Grill. From the very first blood curdling screech and the bluesy guitar riff, I knew things were heading in a very different direction for Depeche Mode. And then I saw photos in the music magazines of frontman Dave Gahan, the long hair, beard, and tattoos, and read the stories of his relocation to Los Angeles, the drug use and near death experiences. I saw the band live for the first and only time in the summer of 1994 while they were touring that album at Kingswood Music Theatre. Incidentally, it was the first of many concerts that I would see with my wife Victoria, back when we were just kids and didn’t know what life had in store for us, so it was a pretty special show for us both.

Multi-instrumentalist and one of the principal songwriters, Alan Wilder left the group the year after that concert, making the quartet a trio, and leaving a lot of question marks in all of our minds. The biggest one for me was would there ever be another Depeche Mode album. That question was answered in the affirmative in the spring of 1997, a great year for music in my humble opinion, with the release of “Ultra”. And though my tastes had moved on and Mode weren’t as near to my heart at that point, the album drew me in nonetheless and featured some very excellent music.

So yeah, Mode in the nineties, only three albums, but some very excellent tunes and many of them are a big part of my memories from that time. Let’s go.

The top five:

#5: Barrel of a gun (from “Ultra”, 1997)

I will forever associate this song with the night my wife and I officially celebrate as the night we got together as a couple after a few years of friendship. Even though the song wasn’t released as a single in North America until the end of the following month, I swear that we heard “Bullet of a gun” on the radio as part of a new music preview driving home from the coffee shop Victoria brought me to, planning to break up with me, a funny thought considering we weren’t yet a proper couple. Instead, I convinced her that we should give it an honest try. I remember taking this song as a sign, given that we had seen Depeche Mode live together, two years prior. Though had I gotten a closer listen to the lyrics at the time, I might not have thought the omen a good one. Frontman David Gahan felt as though Martin Gore had written it about him and his struggles at the time, the drugs that had him “staring down the barrel of a gun”. The track was the first single since Alan Wilder had left them a few years earlier and had their fans breathing a sigh of relief. It was dark, electronic, industrial, sexy, sleek, and undeniably, Depeche Mode.


#4: Waiting for the night (from “Violator”, 1990)

I remember my friend John using this song and quoting lyrics from it to spin yarns about his ability to visit parallel, dream-like worlds to the young ladies in our group of friends back in the day. Even now, I couldn’t tell you if he truly believed it or if it was just an attempt at getting some play. Listening to this song loudly, though, in a darkened room, through half closed eyes, might have anyone believing in the supernatural. “And when I squinted, the world seemed rose-tinted and angels appeared to descend.” Everything seems better when partially obscured says track five on Depeche Mode’s iconic album, “Violator”. The rapid fire, repetitive, percussive synths mesh together and wash miasma to create a sort of mist, a haunted space where all seems at peace, and Martin Gore and David Gahan sing together as one, a dream, a pang at the heart, a big glass of deep red wine. Just lay back on your carpet, let the night wash over you, the vibrations sink into your bones, and it doesn’t really matter if the story was true or not. It just is.


#3: I feel you (from “Songs of faith and devotion”, 1993)

“Violator” saw Depeche Mode branching out and adding other instruments, like guitars (!), to their typical synth palette but their next album, “Songs of faith and devotion”, was the closest thing to a rock album that the band would record. “I feel you” has a serious blues riff, care of Martin Gore on guitar, and Alan Wilder played the rhythm on an honest to goodness drum kit. Though truth be told, his playing was then looped, digitized, and sampled throughout. The religious overtones in their lyrics were taken to new heights on the album, flirting with gospel tropes and choirs, and here on “I feel you”, as per usual, Gore has Gahan equating God with the very human emotion: love. “You take me where the kingdom comes. You take me to and lead me through Babylon. This is the morning of our love. It’s just the dawning of our love.” It’s a sensuous piece that bumps and grinds along and Gahan roars like the sexy beast that he is, newly long hair a flailing, attitude personified. Yes indeed.


#2: Enjoy the silence (from “Violator”, 1990)

The fact that there are three songs from “Violator” on this list of Depeche Mode’s best five tunes from the decade (don’t worry, I know you’ve already skipped ahead to see which one was number one) only serves as a reminder (as if it was needed) as to how great that album was. Both this track and the number one also hit these pages as part of my Best tunes of 1990 series. “Enjoy the silence” was number 11 on that list and only comes second here to an indisputable modern classic, but it too is definitely one of my favourite tunes of all time. It is breaths of fresh air interspersed with delectable guitar licks that, together, approximate the beauty of the soul. Drum beats explode with confetti and get frenetic and tribal. It is worldly and interstellar, calling to mind the vastness of the grand canyon and the grandeur of the alps and the solitude of the Sahara or Antartica. It is all this and yet, all David Gahan (or was it Martin Gore) wanted and needed was here in his arms, the love of his life, the love of your life, equating silence, equating everything. Yeah, it’s all that but it’s also a great tune with which to smash the dance floor.


#1: Personal Jesus (from “Violator”, 1990)

I hinted earlier in this post that this song would appear somewhere in this list and given that I mentioned that it was my introduction to Depeche Mode and that this very same song was my number one track on my best tunes of 1990 list, you shouldn’t at all be surprised to find it number one here. Don’t be disappointed. Really, is there anybody that was alive in 1990 that doesn’t know  and love “Personal Jesus”, at least to some degree? Just play the twin chiming bells at the start of the song and I’d say that most people will respond with “reach out and touch faith”, call and answer like. The song was everywhere for a time and with good reason. “Personal Jesus” is an excellent track that feels that it pokes fun at televangelists at the same time as it examines the nature of love and obsession. The bluesy guitar riff and and the stomping percussion that plays through the first part of the verses is sexy and danceable and then things get all erratic and driving and needy before the familiar refrain kicks in. Yeah, we all need faith and we all need something to believe in, love is a religion. “Personal Jesus” is a revolution.


For other top five lists in this series, click here.