If there was a manual that rock bands could follow to guarantee long-term success, Depeche Mode would probably fail every test. During three decades together they have lost key members, fallen out bitterly, almost destroyed themselves, committed some of the worst fashion crimes in pop history, and been written off for dead countless times by music critics.
And yet here they are, 100 million album sales later, with an enormous and fiercely loyal army of fans across the globe. Like U2, they are one of very few European exports to have scored serious and enduring US success. They have also inspired several generations of famous acolytes, from the techno underground to the heavy metal scene, from Marilyn Manson to The Killers. Last year, Coldplay even made their own "cover version" video based on Depeche Mode's 1990 hit Enjoy the Silence, shot by the same director, Anton Corbijn.
It is rare to find Depeche Mode under the same roof nowadays, since all three now live thousands of miles apart - the singer Dave Gahan in New York, the main songwriter Martin Gore in California and the keyboard player Andrew "Fletch" Fletcher in London. It is a concrete illustration, perhaps, of the internal tensions that have famously threatened to tear the band apart in the past. But when we meet in a sumptuous private members' club in West London, all three seem upbeat and in a friendly mood. Their new album, Sounds of the Universe, is truly their most rich and impressive for years, balancing plush soundscapes with spiky electronic stomps that recall their 1980s prime. After years of bad blood, rock's most dysfunctional trio are feeling unusually optimistic.
"On this record, I sensed this feeling of my own self-confidence really contributing in a positive way rather than an antagonistic way," says Gahan. "I usually don't have that pause button in place, and everybody will feel it; that's a gift but also a curse. It works really well performing, but doesn't work so well at home with the wife." The first single from Sounds of the Universe is a muscular electro-rock beast called Wrong. It sounds like a defiant, grimly funny summary of the band's three decades as anti-fashion, leather-clad misfits. Even at the start of their career, Depeche Mode were dismissed as electro-pop lightweights by the British music press. When their original songwriter Vince Clarke left in 1981 to form Yazoo, then Erasure, few would have banked on the remaining trio evolving into one of the biggest rock groups on the planet.
"We were a boy band, basically," Fletcher admits. "We were kids. When we first started our accountant did a tax plan for us to last three years, and we've outlasted that by 10 times now. He was only going by what happens to most groups." For a band with such a massive global profile, Depeche Mode are strangely anonymous in person. They wear their fame lightly, and somewhat reluctantly. When the legendary documentary director DA Pennebaker made his much admired 1989 concert film, 101, he spent as much time with their fans as the band. The Turner Prize-winning artist Jeremy Deller went a step further with his 2006 film Our Hobby Is Depeche Mode, concentrating solely on the band's young worshippers around the world.
"We are a very big cult band, so our fans feel we are their little secret," says Fletcher, nodding. "We've affected a lot of people's lives in a small way. We're lucky in that we're not celebrities, we can walk around normally. I think that's one of the reasons we've actually lasted." "I get recognised occasionally," says Gore. "Recently, on two separate occasions, I've had people turn up at my house in Santa Barbara, which is a bit weird. The second time my daughter came back and saw black-clad figures hanging around the house, so she gave me a warning. They rang the doorbell; I just didn't answer."
You would not guess it from their current rude health, but Depeche Mode have been through huge problems with bad habits and addictions in the past. Gahan had the most dramatic brush with death in 1996, almost dying of a drug overdose at a Hollywood hotel. He now lives a totally clean life in New York with his third wife, Jennifer, thankful that he escaped his fate as just another rock casualty. "The one thing about the clichéd story is that it didn't end like they usually do," Gahan says. "I had a lot of people trying to take care of me, nudging me in the right direction. I know a lot of people have not had that kind of luxury. I still have to pinch myself sometimes."
Ironically, it was Gahan who stepped in to play big brother when Gore's drinking problem got out of hand on Depeche Mode's last world tour in 2005. "It was getting dangerous and silly again, and we've all been through that," Gahan says, shrugging. "So I said it's got to stop. We're not 25 any more. And I think it was shortly after that Martin decided he needed to stop drinking." Gore gave up alcohol three years ago and found it had a hugely positive effect on his musical output. He wrote many more songs than usual for Sounds of the Universe, with a sharper focus and a clear head.
Another key factor in the band's current buoyant mood is Gahan's growing involvement as a songwriter, which only began on their 2005 album, Playing the Angel. Gore's dominance in this area has long been a source of unspoken tension between the two. But after making two successful solo albums, Paper Monsters and Hourglass, Gahan finally felt ready to demand more creative input within Depeche Mode. "At first it was definitely a little prickly," Gahan nods. "With Playing the Angel it surprised me a little, the resistance I felt. But with this album, especially after Hourglass, which Martin really liked, I think he felt like I'd paid my dues a bit. I have no problem being the sub. I mean, I was in the locker room for years, now I'm on the bench. I get to play for the last 10 minutes - if we're ahead. Ha!"
Gore certainly has complimentary words for Gahan's contributions to Sounds of the Universe, but disputes suggestions that he stifled Gahan's composing ambitions on previous recordings. He can only recall a single example of the singer trying to write before, during sessions for Depeche Mode's 1997 album Ultra. "There was only one occasion before Playing the Angel where he actually presented us with an idea, and it was really basic, just him singing and clapping along," Gore recalls. "Maybe he felt turned down that we didn't take that song, but it really was just a basic sketch. In a few interviews I've been accused of being a dictator, like I stopped him from letting his creative juices flow, but it really wasn't a question of that."
Gahan admits there is still "plenty of Spinal Tap" in his relationship with Gore, but more in terms of friendly rivalry than unresolved resentment. "There's much more of a mutual respect than people talk about, but that's less interesting to read about," the singer says, laughing. "I still think there's some healthy competition between us, because I believe that more will be revealed. That's why I'm in this game. But I just moved one of my chess pieces and it's in a good position."
After three decades together, the old frictions within Depeche Mode have not been entirely erased. But while the trio may not exactly be close friends, they clearly need each other, and increasingly seem to respect each other too. "I think a better word would be electricity between the three band members, rather than friction," says Fletcher. "Our relationship with Dave is like with a brother. We never saw him that much socially in the beginning, and it's still a bit like that. But every four years, we see each other every day for two years."
"It's more like a family," Gore says frowning. "Andy happens to still be together with his first wife, but I've been divorced, and Dave's been divorced a few times. But we're still with the band. What does that tell you?" Gahan also likens the volatile Depeche chemistry to a long-term marriage. "Just working with someone creatively for so long, you get to this point where each of our tendencies start to become irritating," he laughs. "And it can be the tiniest thing, just like a marriage. It's not the big stuff, it's how you load the dishwasher."
Sounds of the Universe arrives on the eve of Depeche Mode's 30th anniversary. The founding members were already playing together in 1979, but only in 1980 did they adopt the name that would make them world famous. They are marking this historic milestone with a massive world tour that already looks likely to spill over into next year. Rock's most dysfunctional trio are back, bigger and louder than ever.
"When the 30-year thing comes up I get slightly embarrassed," says Fletcher. "But because this album has turned out so well, it feels quite relevant. We're proud of the fact that we've survived 30 years. We all went through horrendous problems, but I would say the mood within the group has been getting better and better. It's a good time to be in Depeche Mode."