DEPECHE MODE

IF MUCH OF 1981 WAS SOUNDTRACKED BY COMPLEX FUNKINESS OR A MANNERED, ICY SOPHISTICATION, THE FIRST ALBUM BY THE FRESH-FACED BOYS FROM BASILDON WAS A JOYOUS – AND VERY HUMAN – POP RECORD…

MATTHEW LINDSAY

It would have been hard to be a young record buyer in 1981 and not get the feeling you were living through a golden age.

Stylish stars gazed out from magazine shelves while sleek, polished pop filled the airwaves, beamed into the living room via Top Of The Pops. Duran Duran sashayed into the charts with Planet Earth, Adam Ant became a household name, and Spandau continued the success of last year’s debut, To Cut A Long Story Short. Whatever retro comfort Shakin’ Stevens’ reheated rock’n’roll offered, this was synth-pop’s annus mirabilis. Myriad acts occupied the upper echelons of the charts with the electronic music Gary Numan had taken overground just two years previously. His futuristic star-shaped riposte to punk’s ‘no future’ had opened the floodgates. It all came to a peak in 1981’s latter stages with a series of landmark long-players from Soft Cell, the revamped Human League, Japan, Heaven 17 and OMD, records that smuggled the weird and wonderful into mainstream pop.

Also hitting the shelves that October was Speak & Spell, Depeche Mode’s debut. To some, this band – perky, cherubic, with their album named after an electronic toy – were the runt of this litter.

Speak & Spell displayed little of the depth of Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret’s red-light experience, nor any of Tin Drum’s exotic muso chops or far eastern promise. The records that it shared the racks with seemed like its older, more sophisticated brethren. Penthouse And Pavement had Brit-funk swing and conceptual big ideas, while Architecture & Morality plunged into ambitious Eno-esque soundscapes with proggy mellotrons. Play Speak & Spell next to Dare with its synthetic orchestral sheen and bang-up-to-date LinnDrum wallop, and it’s a bit skimpy… like electro-skiffle.

What it did have that the others lacked was a wide-eyed innocence, the joyful naivety that the best, purest pop often effervesces with. It proved irresistible. Propelled by the No.11 success of New Life, previewed that September by top tenner Just Can’t Get Enough and a flurry of press, Speak & Spell was a success before it was in the shops, with large advanced sales. It sailed into the Top 10, staying in the charts for 32 weeks – quite an achievement for a new band on an independent label.

Sessions took place at Blackwing Studios, nestled in the Dickensian backstreets of South London’s Borough district. Daniel Miller had discovered the facility putting the finishing touches to his Silicon Teens album, finding owner/engineer Eric Radcliffe sympathetic to his DIY approach. On Speak & Spell, Miller’s proviso was simple: capture the “atmosphere and vibe” of Depeche Mode’s live act and add a few “experimental twists”. Synth parts were laid down in the live room much in the manner of a traditional band with Gore’s lead on the Yamaha CS-5, Fletcher’s bass from the Moog Prodigy, and Clarke’s rhythm on the Kawai 100FS (he’d also purchased a Roland Jupiter 4 that summer).