Have you noticed the people who love the '80s today were probably the same people who hated the decade when they actually had to live through it? The pop culture artifacts that are now the hip new things - Joy Division, Gang of Four, The Cure, Depeche Mode - once provided music for the malcontent. Cheerleaders didn't bounce along to the socialist credos of Gang of Four and quarterbacks didn't pump up for games listening to The Talking Heads' "This Must be the Place" on repeat.
While the cheerleader and the quarterback grew up, married, and let the '80s fade into the past, the Anthony Michael Halls of the world kept the original vinyl pressings of their favorite post-punks in pristine condition and in constant rotation on their turntables.
Depeche Mode's latest release, "Playing the Angel," is a record for those who never let go. Anyone else listening will find it an exercise in drudgery and depression. There are bouts of inspiration, but the album as a whole sounds like variation on the same sad theme.
The group has been turning out their brand of somber synth pop for almost 25 years, peaking in 1990 with the album "Violator." Since that album, which featured the hits "Personal Jesus," "Enjoy the Silence," and "Policy of Truth," it's all been downhill. "Playing the Angel" is the newest in a series of failed comeback attempts destined to be incorrectly called their best since "Violator."
The album does have its rare positive moments. First single "Precious" is a moody synth-pop masterpiece. Lead singer Dave Gahan's voice rides along an almost bouncy beat accented by a sparse, cold guitar. Gahan's emotion-drenched voice is perfect for the overly serious lyrics: "Angels with silver wings / Shouldn't know suffering." Sure, it's bombastic, but isn't that what the '80s were all about? If "Precious" had been released 20 years ago it would have fit perfectly with moody classics such as Corey Hart's "Sunglasses at Night" and Soft Cell's "Tainted Love."
While "Precious" is a great throwback, the rest of the album floats by in the background: a few pleasant electronic bleeps and blops and not much else. "John the Revelator" is a nice lyrical counterpoint to the traditional blues song of the same name, but the tune is unmemorable.
Although most of the album is merely yawn-inducing, "Damaged People" is a full-fledged embarrassment. Gahan's emotionally overloaded delivery suits the material, but when he hands the mic over to Martin Gore, who borders on operatic, the result is mortifying. The lyrics "When you're in my arms / The world makes sense / There is no pretense" elicit a familiar '80s reaction - gag me with a spoon.
Fans of the band should probably add a star or two to this rating. If electro-pop and previous Depeche Mode releases are your thing, "Playing the Angel" won't disappoint. But beyond providing the soundtrack to your "I Love the 80s" marathon party, this disc won't offer much to the casual listener.
"Playing the Angel" is like a new McCartney or Rolling Stones album: nothing new or particularly exciting, but the aging flower children will be happy that they're getting an auditory postcard from their beloved decade. Listening to "Playing the Angel," you can't help but think that, as boring as it is, there are probably thousands of Long Duk Dongs and Anthony Michael Halls out there who couldn't be happier right now.
