Depeche Mode
Black Celebration

THE REVIEW

What does it mean to come from a city like Basildon, practically built to measure with photocopy buildings, arranged in sequence to accommodate the overflow population of nearby London, devoid of interests other than being the birthplace of the inventor and agronomist Jethro Tull (hence the name of the namesake progressive rock band)?

One hundred thousand inhabitants who get out of bed, enter the factory or office, leave, go to the pub, maybe get drunk and, if they have them, return every night to their families or their four-legged friends. A greyness that surrounds you but that you also carry within, in your soul, which can gradually take over you, insidious, without jolts, unless you do something about it.

But someone in Basildon decided to react. They took that gray and cloaked it in black, almost to challenge and belittle it. Some guys who, to achieve this, started with a synth-rich, danceable pop, and by the fifth album, they are now ready for a change. The "black celebration" covers the tracks with a gothic and dark atmosphere like never before, and there is a deeper exploration of the sonic nuances. Therefore, metallic, industrial effects, the new wave brushing against post-punk, melody drawing from the past but dressed in more painful moods. Everything seems harder to digest for the ears, but it's just the beginning of maturity, of delving deeper and discovering one's potential.

In fact, from here, Depeche Mode will refine and expand their still-unexpressed souls more and more, continuing to do so despite depressions, heart arrests, and suicide attempts. A record that marks an extraordinary turning point in the musical landscape of the time, charting the path to follow for a genre, new wave, that has had and still has other wandering knights, but which with them will find in the long term the true torchbearers.

For us listeners, what remains in our heads is the single-like perfection of the chorus of "A Question of Lust," the contagious post-punk rhythm of "A Question of Time," as well as the winning refrain of "Stripped," a song emblematic of many future developments of the band, where a love story (black, obviously) is embraced with politics and the complexity of arrangements.

P.S.: in this vinyl edition, released in Canada and the United States, a closing "But Not Tonight" appears that adds nothing to the already elevated content, but which was wanted by the record label to present it as the opening single instead of the aforementioned "Stripped."