Review Summary: And then there were two.
Sometimes you don’t mean to reflect on your legacy: it’s just unlucky happenstance.
The death of Andy Fletcher, Depeche Mode’s co-founder, in-band manager and all-around swell bloke hit the unexacting fans in 2022 like a brick to the temple, instantly re-iterating the fleeting nature of life and the fragility of life of any human being, be they someone you know personally or a childhood hero on a frayed poster on your bedroom wall which you came to regard as just one of those fixtures of reality that are always there.
It must have been an absolute gut-punch to Dave Gahan and Martin Gore, too, who were already demoing ideas for the upcoming Depeche Mode album. And this is where we enter a realm of unbridled speculation, because, as is sadly sometimes the case, while the original foundation of the album had nothing to do with Fletch’s untimely passing, it’s nigh impossible the separate the event from the album, aptly titled
«Memento Mori». Two pairs of angel wings with funereal wreaths adorn the album art, underlining the fact that where there used to be three are now two, and they too are meditating on the unrelenting march of time.
All of that sounds very heady and profound, but what about the actual album?
Well…
The critical scores across the board for
«Memento Mori» seem to be very high for an album by a band that, while having had an immeasurable impact on pop-culture, are ostensibly over their glory days and have stopped pining for boundary-pushing concepts some time ago. While that might sound harsh, it’s not intended to be a put-down: truth is, for at least fifteen years Depeche Mode had nothing to prove to anyone anymore. They’ve made their mark on pop music and no one could blame them for sticking to pleasing their core fanbase with occasional releases as an excuse to engage in another world tour, playing the hits for as long as physically possible. However, recent events seem to have framed the latest album by the English outfit as a statement of relevance in the face of doom; or at least that’s what some of those glowing reviews seem to indicate.
The power of Depeche Mode of yore was condensed in their irresistible mastery of the hook - amped during the golden era by their production choices. Martin Gore will probably go down in pop history as one of the finest melodists, yet I would be lying if I said I’ve found a DM hook compelling in about 10 years. There’s a certain danger to being a master craftsman of the pop format - eventually the necessity for repetition and sing-along-iness might make one trapped in a corner of derivativeness. And while Depeche’s taste in arrangements still occasionally shines through the hazy orchestration floating above the synthetic growls of «My Cosmos Is Mine» and the very deliberately nostalgic-sounding «People Are Good», there isn’t a billion dollar instant earworm anywhere on the album.
And that’s okay. Depeche Mode, for better or worse, have been a «legacy» band for a while.
And besides…
Despite being mostly a collection of exercises in the tried and true verse-chorus-verse structure there are glimpses of inspiration showing through practice of the form. «Never Let Me Go» in particular uses almost atonal layers of guitar against a stark post-punk backbeat and utilizes what might be one of the most energetic vocal performances by Gahan in years. The symbiosis of strings and synths from the start of the album reappears in the closer «Speak To Me», which progresses into a cinematic explosion of texture that is definitely new ground for the group. And the aforementioned «People Are Good», while not being anything spectacular melodically, rings with a certain urgency in these mad times with simple yet effective lines like:
«People are good
Whisper it under your breath
People are good
Keep fooling yourself»
Ultimately,
«Memento Mori» is not a rumination on legacy of one of the world’s most successful acts against a backdrop of tragedy: it’s just another solid album by a veteran band that happened to come out in very grim circumstances. And maybe, after all, that is all it has to be. Time is fleeting and life is fragile. You might as well dance a bit while it lasts.
