Who would have predicted that of all those poncing, preening and pretentious electro acts that dominated the ‘80’s charts, doomy old Depeche Mode would be the last men standing? Having sold in excess of 100 million albums, played some of the world’s most prestigious stages, and influenced everybody from Nine Inch Nails to Muse in the process, the Basildon boys are still going strong 33 years on.
That’s the same age Christ was when he was crucified, but, lest we forget, it’s now 17 years since Mode’s own personal Jesus, frontman Dave Gahan, returned from the dead in the back of an LA ambulance following a speedball overdose. So they’ve survived all the rock ‘n’ roll clichés, too.

Following a lengthy stint in rehab, Gahan’s been clean and sober ever since. He’s also been extremely prolific, enjoying a respectable solo career, collaborating with Soulsavers, and, alongside original members Martin Gore and Andy Fletcher (Alan Wilder left in 1995), releasing a new Depeche Mode album every four years. The secret to their longevity and continuing success was revealed by Gore at a recent press conference: “We don’t keep in constant contact after a tour. We only speak to each other every four to six months.”
As the title of their 13th studio album suggests, Delta Machine is the Mode’s plugged-in take on the Delta blues (in parts, at least). Obviously they’re using synths and drum machines rather than slide guitars and harmonicas, but the subject matter is largely the same – sex, sleaze, soullessness and salvation. No drugs, though. As Gahan sings on ominous album opener, ‘Welcome To My World’, “Welcome to my world / Step right through the door / Leave your tranquilisers at home / You don’t need them anymore.”
The world listeners are being welcomed to is immediately recognisable as Depeche Mode’s from the opening 30 seconds, but while they’re utilising the same sonic ingredients – Gahan’s deep baritone, samplers, razor guitars, bass loops, drum machines and edgy electronic effects – it still sounds like a sort of progression. The first cut and comeback single, ‘Heaven’, released in January, was a deceptive taster. It’s a fine and memorable ballad, but not especially representative of the album’s overall sound. Same trick Bowie just pulled.
Recorded in Santa Barbara, California, and New York City, and produced once again by Ben Hillier (who also helmed 2005’s Playing The Angel and 2009’s Sounds Of The Universe), Delta Machine is deeply layered and melodic, but best played loud. It was mixed by Flood, who last worked with them on Songs Of Faith & Devotion. The band themselves have described it as a cross between Violator and SOFAD, and the best aspects of those two albums – coincidentally, their most commercially successful releases – are definitely in the mix.
As ever, there are songs of faith, devotion and redemption here. Religious or spiritual references abound. Track titles include ‘Heaven’, ‘Angel’ and ‘Soothe My Soul’, while the rocking opening verse of ‘Alone’ goes, “I was there when you needed me most / I was there when you wanted me least / I was your father, your son and your holy ghost and priest.”
Although Gore has traditionally always been Mode’s songwriter-in-chief, Gahan has been contributing lyrics on recent albums. Here he’s penned three respectable electro anthems in the form of ‘Secret To The End’, ‘Broken’ and ‘Should Be Higher’, the latter featuring some fine falsettos and stabbing synths. Perhaps in a studio trade-off, Gore takes the lead vocals on the slow-paced ‘The Child Inside’ (“Each tear that flows down your face / trickles and then picks up the pace / then turns to a river inside / a river that will not subside”).
Featuring a distinctively electrified lazy guitar riff, ‘Slow’ is the most obvious blues-influenced song here. It’s also one of the filthiest: “Slow, slow, as slow as you can go / I want my sense to overflow / Slow, slow / And doesn’t it show?” Although apparently a Gore cast-off from the recording of SOFAD, its sleazy sexuality fits the mix perfectly here.
On ‘Angel’, Gahan exorcises some demons and seeks redemption in the style of an old southern bluesman: “The angel of love was upon me / And, Lord, I felt so clean / Like a preacher on Sunday / My heart was serene / I waded into the water / I was bathed, I was drowned / Like the sinners before me / I knelt down on the ground.”
Not everything works. ‘Soothe My Soul’ is somewhat overblown, the bleeping ‘My Little Universe’ slows proceedings too early (though electronically redeems itself towards the end), and it doesn’t sound like their hearts are truly in ‘Soft Touch/Raw Nerve’. Then again, it can’t be easy playing dark, miserable and tortured goths all
the time.
Despite those weaker links, bookended by ‘Welcome To My World’ and the brilliant fade-out ‘Goodbye’, Delta Machine is easily Depeche Mode’s best and most experimental release of the new millennium. The songs are mostly strong, the music is deep and inventive, the production is top notch, and the album works as a cohesive whole. Alpha Delta.