The Velvet Shade of Depeche Mode
The capital of Ukraine has hosted a concert it has awaited for more than fifteen years — a recital by David Gahan, the perpetual vocalist of the legendary pop group Depeche Mode, held at the Palace of Sports. In truth, Depeche Mode aficionados have been longing all this time to see the full group. But only David came. Still, better Gahan in Kyiv than the full line of DM in Britain!
The famous front man of the no less famous group presented his first solo album Paper Monsters that he recorded with the help of his friend Knox Chandler, a New York multi-instrumentalist. To promote these paper monsters, David is making quite an extensive world tour. Kyiv was ninth on a list of 46 concert grounds in Europe and the Americas. The Paper Monsters tour began in Zurich on June 5 and is scheduled to finish in Los Angeles on August 25.
In Kyiv, Gahan plus his musicians and auxiliary staff occupied a solid floor at the Premier Palace. The megastar was closely guarded by 18 musclemen from a Moscow-based agency that has an exclusive right to guard all concerts of the biggest foreign stars who perform in the CIS. Why does this foreign firm monopolize the territory of Ukraine?
To better reproduce the picture of how the voice of Depeche Mode stayed in Kyiv, let us resort to the safe genre of reportage. David came through the Palace back door to the wild cries of Depeche fans, in blue jeans, a gray tank top, and with a sentimentally gracious rose in hand. In general, one of the most brilliant pop front men looked as modest as he could, without any cheap antics: he refused to take a cool Mercedes at the airport, preferring an ordinary minibus, nor did he demand a suite room at the hotel. During the sound check, he scampered on the stage like a young child and wondered at the never-ending chains of policemen who had occupied the hall. The impression was that David treated his work as great fun. As to the music, it was clear (to those of us who were crazy about DM all these years) well before the concert that it had changed: there was more rock-n-roll, folk, blues — anything you like but not techno.
The star’s press conference was very short, dynamic, and absolutely uninteresting. The thousands-times-asked questions triggered apathy and the cheek of provincial pen pushers caused indignation. Kyiv fans presented David an album on May 9, his birthday. All I remember is: “Sex symbol? (Showing a surprised face) Naturally, my wife!” “Designer? I couldn’t care less.” And the Russian equivalent of an F-word David learned in Moscow... That’s all. The only sensible question sounded at the end of the conference, when the 1+1 TV channel asked if he would put his autograph on a counterfeit CD. David explained he could not support the miscreants who steal his work. This actually saved my flea-market-bought disc from being smashed.
7:30 p.m. Before the world star came out on the stage, the audience was being warmed up by our native Druha Rika (Another River). The boys worked well, but the crowd longed for others. Kharchyshyn started with the symbolic No Longer Myself and ended with “We’ve been waiting for you for fifteen years!” This resulted in a half hour of cheering and booing on the same stage with Depeche Mode. After a short break, THEY appeared onstage.
It would be worthwhile to put here a lengthy piece of information about DM’s history, but, for want of space, I refer all those interested to the official and entirely unofficial sites of Depeche Mode.
THE CONCERT
Gahan’s technicians adjusted the equipment, and the hall sank into a blues-like silence before a storm that we have really been waiting for fifteen years (since the time when the first recordings found their way to Ukraine via Poland or in some other miraculous manner to find true devotees here). 8:25 p.m.: the tattooed idol of techno rock appeared. A mere ten minutes later he was dripping with sweat and took off his glistening vest. Only the very few can exert themselves like this onstage. However, new songs from an almost unknown album triggered a rather a feeble reaction. The audience had looked forward to old numbers and literally jumped for joy when they heard It Is a Question of Time, one of his liveliest and most time-tested hits. The packed hall was enthralled and overwhelmed with boundless emotion. Incidentally, tickets cost 70 to 700 (in the VIP sector) hryvnias and, judging by the number of spectators, had been sold out.
Somewhere into the seventh song, David began to play the theme on the mouth organ quite in the style of Tarantino. Then again loads of slobbering lyrics that put on a myriad of lights. Such numbers can be called parasitism on the glory of DM. There is more drive in the new lyrics than in Somebody, but it will hardly win new enthusiasts.
Then Gahan suddenly confessed in heavily-accented Ukrainian, “I love you!” People are on top of the world — the reaction resembles the end of a gladiators’ bout. Then, immediately thereafter, Try Walking in My Shoes suddenly he brought down the house. This is real music! The emotional curve again reached toward its a climax. Still, what really wound up the audience to fever pitch was the classic hit Personal Jesus (9:15 p.m.). The hit was played far longer than in the album version. The audience chanted “No!”, demanding an encore Jesus for everyone. An absolutely gorgeous theme. You found yourself blending with the rhythm, lyrics, smell, and emotions...
9:22 p.m. The boys pretended the show is closing. “We love you” again. But you don’t have to cheat, for the contract calls for two encores. Another classic piece, I Feel You. The audience hysterically shouted “David!” and the latter dropped an exasperated “Oh shit!” and sang on. It will be no exaggeration to say that this hall had not seen such a scene for a long time. Or has it ever seen one at all? I have a good reason to doubt it.
The boys again left the stage. Another curtain call. There was a squall of voices and a ripple of stamping among the audience. The musicians hesitated for quite a while before playing a very revised version of Enjoy the Silence. In addition, there was a medley of various earlier themes, with Just Can’t Get Enough standing out. 9:53 p.m.: a happy ending, when everybody rolled out into the street, and fireworks shot up from riverside hills — just to be with it...
A LYRICAL POSTSCRIPT
Depeche Mode has changed a little, as has the surrounding world. They keep winning new fans, without losing their old guard. Somebody likes Black Celebration and Songs of Faith and Devotion, somebody else prefers Ultra and Exciter. These are different Depeches. I personally prefer the 1986-1993 one, for it has something you can’t express in words: the magic of music, text, and harmony. It is not so much about the inner structure of compositions as about your own inner condition, your mood influenced by the velvet stream of David’s incredible voice.
