Dave Gahan
Hourglass

The release of a new solo album by Dave Gahan is always a topic of discussion beyond the strictly musical content, and this "Hourglass" is no exception. Gahan is the vocalist and frontman of one of the most long-standing and esteemed cult bands in the world, which would be enough to draw attention; but there are less recognized motivations that keep fans especially on edge, starting with the long-standing competitive escalation between him and the true artistic driving force of Depeche Mode (Martin L. Gore). Motivations that have always fueled a series of doubts and (often legitimate) cautions about the intrinsic validity of the "solo album" operation that Gahan persists in pursuing to obtain recognition and consecration otherwise linked to his band.

The previous "Papermonsters" was received with enthusiasm by many, with lukewarm benevolence by some, and with a smirk by the most impartial critics, prudent in perceiving an atmosphere of already weak confrontation in that solo work. An album that had sold well and, obviously, more than Gore's parallel "Counterfeits 2," which opted for a rather experimental production of covers and certainly did not worry about having to withstand the hypothetical challenge with the friend-rival. An album that sounded too much like Depeche where we would have expected something more personal, yet too personal where Gahan's voice excels and instead gets lost in an intimate style with romantic shades, softening his mocking charge and making him seem more like a chansonnier than a rock star of his caliber.

Over the years, however, the rebellious and gutsy Dave understood that the core on which he had to insist was only one and that by maintaining the relationship of trust with Depeche Mode fans intact, he could consolidate his authority as a solo artist.

"Hourglass" is a work that undoubtedly sounds closer to the group's latest projects - especially to "Playing the Angel" - and centers on a more elaborate interpretation and atmospheres more suited to its author's personality. It's a work that boasts careful and refined production, full of captivating sounds and contemporary arrangements. A work that manages not to bore even when there's a substantive lack of good ideas.

Because - let's be clear - Gahan does not possess the genius and emotional writing of Gore, to whom he is indebted even in the attempt to break free. His songs, without those sounds and arrangements, would not have the inspired resonance that emerges from the finished record; and indeed, I can say that at least half of the tracks on "Hourglass" find their musical substance precisely in the originality of the arrangements, which, among electronic echoes, trip-hop reminiscences, and semi-industrial touches, manage to bridge the gap between a good solo album by Dave and an average Depeche album.

Gahan chooses not to start this work with a bang and opts for "Saw Something," a relaxed and dreamily melancholic piece, to pave the way for the listener. He thus moves the more aggressive and experimental track to third in the tracklist and tries to keep the tension building before the middle section, in my opinion, the weakest. After the fluid openings of "Saw Something" - which enjoys a beautiful guitar solo at the end - it continues in the same vein with "Kingdom," mediating the more tested Gahan-style with modernized '80s sounds and an enjoyable chorus... unsurprisingly chosen as the first single.

With "Deeper and Deeper," the creative and aggressive apex of the album is immediately consumed, blending hypnotic rhythms and dirty loops with a desperate voice, reminiscent of the worst moments in the life of this damn lucky boy who is likely related to cats (given that he seems to have nine lives). A great track, more suited to fans with open minds and listeners without preconceptions than to those convinced that "Black Celebration" is the highest example of Gahan and his associates' careers.

From the fourth track to the penultimate, the tension drops; and save for "Use You," you have to wait for the splendid "A Little Lie" to catch your breath and awaken already waned attention. "Use You" could reasonably be said to be a Gore song reworked by Dave, as it has a very close feel to the atmospheres of "Songs of Faith and Devotion" with a raw and unsettling vocal interpretation; and the rhythmic background winks at things already heard from the band, albeit decidedly more electronic.

Then "A Little Lie," driven by a marvelous guitar riff that sounds like those of Martin Gore and has the nostalgic and tragic depth without seeming like a copied piece. Here Gahan captures and convinces, with an engaging and perfectly produced ballad. Overall more evident and enhanced if it had been placed at the end of the tracklist, instead of "Down," which starts deceptively like a synthetic cover of Radiohead's "Creep" and fails to take off to close the album worthily.

But it is known that David Gahan has a crooner's vocation and essentially seeks to confirm to the world that he is not as crazy and reckless as he is depicted and as his private life seems to show. His romantic and disillusioned streak needs expression through ballads without excess, which can highlight the positive profile of the anti-hero and leave the impression of a man who has seen death face to face and retains nevertheless a sardonic boyish smile with such a heart.

Which is precisely how I think Gahan is: a laid-back guy who knows how to be moved without hypocrisy. Which makes it even more challenging to reconcile public expectations, his desire to stand out as an author, his autobiographical inspirations, and the trends of the moment. Could it be that is why "Hourglass" is a decent album that won't be memorable, except in Dave's own heart?