Waiting for the Night

Well, it may have finally happened. After 25 years, 19 albums, 14 world tours, Depeche Mode may have finally put out an album that (gasp, I can hardly write it)
I don't really... well... like.

That makes me so sad. Sad enough to sit in a dark room, blare "Never Let Me Down Again" and cry my eyes out. This is a band that has provided an ongoing soundtrack
to my entire life. I started out on album one, Speak and Spell, when I was probably around 8 years old and have never missed an album since, never mind not completely loved one.

In fact, I can hardly name any songs that I don't like. If I wanted to bother, I bet I could list the ones that I'm not fond of on my 10 fingers. Considering the amount of songs we're talking about, that's a pretty amazing thing.

Naturally, on October 17th when their latest album, Playing the Angel, hit the stands, I went out to buy it. Not loving it wasn't even an option. I'd already heard and loved the single, "Precious," so why wouldn't I love the whole album? But guess what? I don't.

Of course, I've only listened to it once all the way through, in the car, driving downtown in rush-hour traffic. I was distracted and not able to provide my full attention. Yet, there was no head-bopping, no turning it up at certain parts because of how beautiful it sounded, no skipping back to the beginning of a track because it was so good that I had to hear it again asap. None of it. None of the usual Depeche Mode reactions.

The fuck?

Could it be that they've gotten too old? Could it be that I have? I don't like either option. I'm going to give the album another try. Maybe it was my mood. Maybe it was the
SUV on my ass all the way through the city. Maybe it was the not-so-super speakers in the Mazda 3.

The real test will come on December 1, when me and the crew catch them live in the TDot. Full review to come after the fact. Until then I guess I'm just waiting for the night.