Depeche Mode
Music For The Masses

THE REVIEW

MUSIC FOR THE MUSCLES.

How can I dismiss this gem in the world of electropunk without feeling like an absolute mess.
Well, this album made my muscles move in high school; yes, even if I wasn't in high school because I was too young, I already imagined myself there listening to it... already savoring the endless deference in the dances: those electro dances where you don't touch but you brush against each other with glances; Life, is full of surprises, but advertises, NOTHING!

I, who at heart have always been a bit of a queen, still listen to this music, oh yes oh yes, and dance like crazy.
"Never let me down" is a flight without pants, where God came down to ask the brothers: "who wears the pants?" Thus anticipating by years, great prophets the DM, Kurt Cobain's "Everyone is Gay"; but what a magnificent song, to dance accelerating in the third lane to reach heaven... I hear the ambulances chirping, but it's just an impression because here it comes, here it comes... "Behind The Wheel", I spank myself to the rhythm of the bass, tuttutu tututut tututut, and that flute. Martin Gore has always, I say always found ingenious solutions, never trivial, absolutely spot-on and very Gay. Fantastic!
Do What you want I don't care... But Dave Gahan come here, let me show you what I'd do to you. But for me, a gem of the album, as well as a bonus track, is "Pleasure Little Treasure", which the Stereophonics, oh clever ones, have tampered with in the chorus... try it to believe it! A track to dance like crazy while the stairs are flattened and the elevator is broken.
"PIMPF", a truly haunting piece, from which one can infer why there's a large presence of scaraf... uhm goth kids at Depeche concerts, a track that reeks of witch dances and sabbaths... with those catacombal voices, move over Burzum!
A monstrous piece is then "Fittle Fifteen", with refined and precisely starched organ countermelodies; you could find yourself imagining being in an 18th-century laundry drying clothes with half your boobs out you and your friend Inge.
While from afar Torvald scolds Nora with "To Have And To Hold" that not everything in this world is free: the reprimand begins with a radio, maybe German? Maybe not? And it continues in a dark Anthem, "The point of the disease" sings Gahan, and we feel guilty and want to escape from this Dollhouse that oppresses our chest.

Outside there's Gahan, with arms stretched out and that fantastic behind, cleaned to perfection, inviting us to the purple Depeche party.
DM masterpiece