April 21, 2026 • 33 mins
Machines, eyeliner, ecstasy, and a West Hollywood overdose that left their frontman clinically dead—Depeche Mode were never just a synth-pop band. From cops in riot gear to an onstage heart attack, from stigmas about softness to the hard edge of addiction, this is the story of Dave Gahan’s descent into heroin, his two minutes on the other side, and the band’s unlikely resurrection as one of the most dangerous—and enduring—acts in rock history.
This episode was originally released on September 24, 2025.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. This is the
story about machines, about eyeliner and ecstasy, synthesizers, and subversion.
(00:23):
This is a story about how one of the softest
looking bands in pop music became one of the hardest
to kill, and about how their front man went from
a teen dream pin up to a clinically dead junkie
on the bathroom floor of a West Hollywood hotel. This
is a story about addiction, about stigma, about the line
between pleasure and pain, and about death and resurrection. And
(00:48):
this is a story about depeche Mode, a band that
made great music, unlike that clip I played for you
at the top of the show that wasn't great music.
That was preset loop from my melotron called Gothic Goatee MK.
Speaker 2 (01:05):
Two.
Speaker 1 (01:06):
I played you that loop because I can't afford the
rights to the Crossroads by Bone Thugs and Harmony. And
why would I play you that specific slice of Reaper
on the Mountaintop Cheese? Could I afford it? Because that
was the number one song in America on May twenty eighth,
nineteen ninety six, And that was the day that Dave Gahan,
(01:28):
lead singer for depeche Mode overdosed, flatlined, and spent two
minutes on the other side before dramatically coming.
Speaker 2 (01:36):
Back to life.
Speaker 1 (01:39):
On this episode, since sex Stigmas, Speedballs, Salvation and depeche Mode,
I'm Jake Brennan in this this disgrace, Lady. A giche
(02:20):
is a kind of piercing that one gets in one's perineum.
You may know the perineum by its more colloquial name,
the taint. You know, Tine is Dick Tina's ass. A
giche is not to be confused with the Prince Albert,
which is a ring or a barbell that is pierced
into the head of the penis.
Speaker 2 (02:38):
But now I'm getting off track.
Speaker 1 (02:40):
The guiche piercing procedure, as you can probably imagine, it
is quite painful. You must get on all fours with
the one doing the piercing sitting directly behind you, and
when the needle goes into that tender piece of flesh.
For a dude at least, it feels like someone has
just kicked you in the balls with a peristeel toed boots.
Guiche piercings hurt like hell, and then, according to those
(03:04):
who get them, like Depeche modes Dave Gahan, the pain
eventually turns to pleasure, just like the pain and pleasure
that lurked in the subtext of great Depeche Mode songs
like Master and Servant. Also quite like the pain Dave
experienced when he was written off as some teen magazine
electro pop flavor of the week, only to experience pleasure
(03:26):
when he proved himself more dangerous, more subversive, and more
rock and roll than anyone could have imagined. But Dave
Gahan wasn't feeling pain or pleasure at the moment in
his perennium or anywhere else for that matter, because Dave
Gahan was dead. Years of abuse of an unshakable addiction
(03:47):
to shooting junk, to doing cocaine had all led to
this inevitable end. The Depeche Mode front man's tattooed body,
blue and cold, lay flat.
Speaker 2 (03:57):
And motionless on a hospital bed.
Speaker 1 (04:00):
It was shortly after two o'clock in the morning on
May twenty eighth, nineteen ninety six. The staff at Cedar
Sinai and Los Angeles were ready to call it. I
think we lost him, one of the doctors said. Another
doctor was wiping the sweat from his brow, and Dave Gahan,
only thirty four years old, had no pulse and no
signs of life. Earlier that evening, Dave Gahan was headed
(04:25):
toward the point in overturn. He settled his bar tab
at the Sunset Marquis Hotel in West Hollywood and made
his way back to his room. On his arm was
a beautiful woman that he just met. Following closely behind,
like a dark shadow, was his dealer. Inside his room,
Dave told the woman to hang tight. He stepped into
the bathroom, and that dark shadow followed. Out of a
(04:48):
small bag with a zipper, came the goods, the only
thing Dave really wanted tonight, even more than the beautiful
woman who was on the other side of the bathroom door,
currently reapplying her makeup. The dealer prepped the speedball. This
right here, this is called red rum. Do some of
this and you'll be shining like Danny fucking Torrents. Dave
took the syringe and stuck it into his flesh. The
(05:11):
needle broke the skin, and Dave ran down the plunger
and the junk rocketed into his blood stream, and he
was sent sword toward the very specific sense of euphoria
that he felt the very first time that he shot
heroin and had yet to reach again. This time, though
he was getting closer, he just had to hang on
a little longer. You could see it, taste it high
(05:35):
and teased him, and then he was out. All one
hundred pounds, give or take of Dave Kahan's junkie body
came crashing down onto the bathroom tile. The dealer had
seen this kind of thing before, even with smack heavyweights.
He gave Dave's face a slap. Nothing, come on, Dave,
he said, giving a few more wax with the back
(05:57):
of his hand, and still nothing. He shook Dave's lifeless body.
Speaker 2 (06:01):
Fuck.
Speaker 1 (06:02):
Dave wasn't here, man, and the dealer grabbed Dave by
the lapels and burst out of the bathroom, dragging the
body across the floor. And the girl in the bedroom
took one look at Dave's sweaty body in the track
marks and his hands starting to lose color, and she freaked.
She nearly knocked the phone off the bedside table when
she grabbed the receiver, Her hand shook uncomfortably as she
began to dial nine one one, and the dealer saw
(06:24):
this and dropped Day's body. It was on the girl instantly,
he slapped the receiver out of her hand and hung
it up. What the fuck did she think she was doing?
Nine to one one the fucking police, No way. The
girl fought back, She pushed, she shoved, she kicked and screamed,
and the dealer got annoyed and bounced. Problem was hers now,
and the girl died nine one one once more. Fifteen
(06:47):
minutes later, paramedics were strapping Dave Gahan's lifeless body onto
a gurney and loading him into an ambulance bound for
Cedar Sinai, one and a half miles away. They weren't
surprised at who they were looking at. Famous in these parts,
all right, and not just for his music. At the hospital,
a team of doctors worked to bring him back to life,
(07:07):
and they performed chess compressions and ready to defibrillator, and
that's when Dave Gahan's heart stopped. He flat lined. Here
was a guy who once wore his toughness on his
sleeve and his music, a guy who went from pain
to pleasure of time and again, pushing past being pigeonholed
creatively and pushing through a debilitating addiction and through a
(07:30):
piercing in his taint, a guy who is now, by
any in all measures dead. Six years earlier, on March twentieth,
(08:09):
nineteen ninety, the streets of Los Angeles were overrun with
Depeche Mode fans, seventeen thousand people to be exact, stretching
out for fifteen city blocks down Los Sianco Boulevard. It
was merely a fraction of the nearly seventy thousand who's
shown up at the Rose Bowl in nearby Pasadena two
years prior, but that was the final show of the
(08:30):
van's first true American tour. In this was a record
release signing for Violator Depeche mode seventh studio album. And
in this case, it's not like a niche audience was
showing up for a niche band. It wasn't just girls
and leather jackets and cut off shirts anymore, or guys
with kraftwork by way of Jean Vincent fashion sense. It
(08:51):
was Sportos, Motorheads, slots, bloods, waisteoys, Threevies, and dickheads. Every
sub click of late eighties era American teenager was in attendance.
Grown Up America, Square America, Crosby Stills in Whoever the
Fuck America. Those people didn't know who or what the
pesche mode was. They didn't know what to make of
the UK band's recent single Person of Jesus, the one
(09:13):
with the twangy spaghetti Western guitar motif, the swaggering beat,
the sweaty sounding breathing, and the call to action to
reach out and touch faith, the song that freaked my
mother out when she caught me watching it on MTV
one afternoon. For reasons that I still can't understand, Square
America didn't know how Personal Jesus was actually connected to
(09:33):
the past, to their music, to rock and roll history,
or how the band's primary songwriter, Martin Gore conceived of
him after reading Priscilla Presley's memoir Elvis and Me. Square America,
the Young and Restless America, Macho Fucko America could hardly
fathom how in nineteen ninety this was a new kind
of Beatlemania, and tonight the human gridlock swallowing up the
(09:57):
entire street in LA was about to turn into a riot.
It was nine pm. The latest single from Violator, Enjoy
the Silence, would cross over and hit number eight on
the Billboard Hot one hundred in just a month's time.
Right now, that song was thundering from speakers outside the Warehouse,
the music store that was hosting tonight's meet and greet.
(10:20):
A limo rolled down La Sienega. Girls screamed at it
while the dudes used their bodies to try to stop it.
But when it finally did come to a halt, the
limo was directly in front of the warehouse. The back
door opened and outstepped Dave Kahan, Martin Gore, and Depeche Modes,
two keyboardists Alan Wilder and Andrew Fletcher aka Fletch, who
(10:41):
were hustled inside by the security detail. Just a glance
at the quartet and suddenly it was bedlam on the block.
Thousands of kids surged from the street towards the store,
their bodies pressed up against the giant glass windows. Some
climbed trees or TV news vans to get a better look.
Thousands more took to the Beverly Centers the street, racing
(11:01):
to the top floors of the structure to lean over
the balconies for a bird's eye view. As security guards
struggled to maintain order. Ahalanx of lapd and full rioty
is steadily closed in marching in tight unison down La Sienaga.
One hundred cops strong called in to protect and serve
in moments of extreme danger and right now. On March twentieth,
(11:24):
nineteen ninety, the day they released their album Violator, depeche
Mode were the most dangerous thing going. But back in
nineteen eighty one, when they'd released their debut album, depeche
Mode were anything but dangerous. They weren't even a band.
They were a joke. Let me explain. If you came
(11:45):
of age in the nineteen eighties and you were into
alternative music or college rock or whatever we were calling it,
then then you knew about this band called KMFDM, even
if you didn't listen to them. KMFDM were a German
industrial band, and their name was an acronym for you're
gonna have to forgive my pronunciation here kine meier hate
fur d might lade, which translates to no pity for
(12:10):
the majority. But nobody, and I mean nobody knew what
KMFDM actually stood for. We all thought it meant kill
motherfucking depeche Mode. Why because Depeche Mode were an affront
to real bands using real instruments. Where were the guitars?
Where were the drums? Was all synthesizers, It was all machines.
(12:33):
It was soulless, dead inside music. The pop equivalent of
five construction workers standing around a hole while one guy
did all the digging, as a UK magazine Melody Maker
noted in the review of the band's Jaunt nineteen eighty
one debut single just Can't Get Enough I can you will?
At least that was the thinking anyway. In reality, Depeche
(12:54):
Mode thought of themselves as the opposite. They were punks
from Basildon, the town just outside London. The synthesizer was
like Johnny Ramones mos wright guitar or Paul simonon smashed
p bass. It was diy, It was rough and tumble
and it was novel. With a few synthesizers, you could
be in a proper band, but eliminate the age old
hassle of busting your sorry asked, lugging equipment and all
(13:16):
that other share around night after night. But although they
modeled themselves as a poppier version of experimental noise bands
like Einstraden Neubaden in Australia's SBK, the latter, which eate
raw sheep brains on stage during a show. Depeche Mode
was misunderstood by the pop cogniscente as disposable synthetic garbage.
At least Duran Durand played instruments.
Speaker 2 (13:39):
Again. This was the thinking, anyway.
Speaker 1 (13:42):
That was before the group's original co founder and lead songwriter,
Vince Clark abruptly left around the time their first album,
Speaking Spell, was released in the fall.
Speaker 2 (13:50):
Of nineteen eighty one.
Speaker 1 (13:52):
It was before Fletch and Alan Wilder began to find
new ways to make their machine sound more human. It
was before Martin Gore stepped up to fill that songwriting
void and began to deliver songs that were darker and
more provocative.
Speaker 2 (14:05):
And more subversive.
Speaker 1 (14:07):
Songs like people Are People, blasphemous rumors, black celebration, and
the aforementioned Master and Servant, songs about s and m
songs about God's supposed sixth sense of humor, songs about
death and with a killer.
Speaker 2 (14:20):
Beat to boom.
Speaker 1 (14:21):
And it was before Music for the Masses, Depeche Mode's
sixth album in as many.
Speaker 2 (14:26):
Years, that was released in nineteen eighty seven.
Speaker 1 (14:30):
The title was meant to be tongue in cheek, but
wound up becoming the band's biggest record to date. Ditto
for the US tour the following that once malign synthpop
sound was now selling out ninety five percent of the
seats at the enormous Rose Bowl, an epic final show
which veteran rock and roll documentary filmmaker Da Pennebaker turned
into the most excellent concert film one oh one all
(14:52):
of It, leading to this Violator a smash upon its release,
already out selling chart mainstays Madonna and Prince.
Speaker 2 (15:02):
It also helped that.
Speaker 1 (15:03):
It was the first Depeche Mode record to prominently feature
Martin Gore's guitar, which helped bridge the gap between the
mainstream and the goth electropop world from which they emerged.
But Violator was more than another record. Violator was vindication.
From inside his safe spot in the warehouse, seated at
(15:23):
a long table with a black sharpie in his hand,
a parade of fans streaming by with records and posters
to sign, Dave Gahan was all smiles. He watched an
awe as seventeen thousand people shut down traffic in one
of the busiest spots in La all for his band,
and then awe turned to fear as the giant panes
(15:44):
of glass began to buckle from all the bodies pressing.
Speaker 2 (15:47):
Up against them.
Speaker 1 (15:48):
Muffled screams could be heard outside as the riot police
moved in on the crowd and the red lights of
ambulances rolling in to take injured fans to the hospital. Now,
Depeche Mode's manager was frantic trying to get their attention. Boys,
We need to go now. It was ten pm and
the event was scheduled to go until midnight, but LAPD
(16:10):
was shutting the whole thing down. Square America wanted their
streets back. Dave, Martin, Allen and Fletch whisked into their
stretch job.
Speaker 2 (16:19):
Waiting outside, the.
Speaker 1 (16:20):
Crowd was ecal parts, confused and angry. So bottles, bricks,
anything people could get their hands on were now flying.
Speaker 2 (16:26):
Through the air.
Speaker 1 (16:27):
They were the LAPDS problem now, and the LAPD dealt
with that problem swiftly and efficiently. It cost the city
of Los Angeles eighteen thousand dollars to pay for one
hundred plus riot police. But when the dust settled, the
city went looking for someone to foot the bill, whether
that was the warehouse or caro Q the local alternative
radio station that promoted the event. Depeche Mode were long
(16:50):
gone by the time Warehouse poned up the cash. Not
that the band was concerned about price tags. Not at
this moment. They were riding high on that vindication feeling.
Their limo faded away into that March evening, so did
the stigma that had followed them since the beginning. Something
else was about to take its place, a crossover success
(17:10):
fame and Dave Gahan's transformation from synthpop joke to an
honest to god rock star, a transformation that.
Speaker 2 (17:20):
Would kill We'll be right back after this. We're were were.
Speaker 1 (17:34):
The World Violation Tour was massive, eighty eight shows on
four continents over the course of six months, sold out
stadiums from New York to Texas to California. Eddie Murphy,
Sylvester Stallone, You Two's Bono, just a few of the
pop culture luminaries on the guest list backstage. This was
nineteen ninety, the same year that Madonna rocked the piny
(17:56):
Cone bra on her Blonde Ambition tour, and also the
year the Rolling Star Stone Steel Wheels Tour. The Stones
had once been the avatars of dangerous but now they
were just going through the corporate machinations. The Stones didn't
shock or offend anymore, not in nineteen ninety. Depeche Mode,
on the other hand, as popular as they were becoming,
(18:17):
still gun under the skin walking down some suburban street
in America. Eddie cochrane hair fingernails painted, black leather jackets
over bear chest. Martin Gore, in address the androgynist rockabilly
goth vibe of it all, elicited more than one homophobic
slur from passing pickup trucks. In fact, Alan Wilder said
(18:37):
in a Rolling Stone interview from this very time that
he'd been called that slur at least twenty times so
far that day alone, and Alan was one of the
more conservatively addressed in the group. Depeche Mode did what
rock and roll does, real rock and roll. They were provocative,
They challenged the accepted norms. They pissed people off. Then
(18:59):
they did it jam cono style in the process, just
a handful of synthesizers and samplers, smart and Gore's gretch
white Falcon guitar and Dave Gahan's rock Stars stance. Powered
by pure adrenaline and also by.
Speaker 2 (19:13):
The ecstasy they took each night.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
After the show, Dave in particular went deep into what
he understood was the rock star's duty.
Speaker 2 (19:20):
You didn't cut your hair short.
Speaker 1 (19:21):
Wear a crop top, pasted out T shirt, and flap
your arms like some old horn dog rooster, as Mick
Jagger was now doing at forty seven years old. By
the way, Mick Jaggers shouldn't even be alive at forty
seven years old. Where were the real ones? Dave Gahan
wanted to know, the ones that burned out and didn't
fade away, the ones who died before they got old.
The Jimmy's, the janicis the Jimbos. They were long gone
(19:45):
and the void they left behind was huge. So when
the World Violation Tour ends, your sole purpose is to
fill that void. You leave your wife and child in
London because London is over. La is where it's at,
and that's where rock stars are not only dead but undead,
roaming the wet streets of Hollywood Boulevard at night like vampires.
Speaker 2 (20:08):
So you move to la.
Speaker 1 (20:09):
Only without your wife and child, but with your new
girlfriend who used to be your publicist, and you let
your hair go long, you grow a go tea, you
get wings, tattooed on your back, an old Celtic symbol
meant to ward off evil. If evil notices, it doesn't care.
You think some ink on your back is going to
hold the forces of fucking darkness at bay.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
Who are you kidding? You don't even care either.
Speaker 1 (20:32):
Long nights of popping e turn into endless days of
shooting junk. You fix in dressing rooms and bathrooms in
your favorite place of all, the Blue Room, a small
room in your house where you can shoot up alone
if you lose way In Back on the road with
Depeche Mode for the biggest tour of your life. You
can feel yourself getting weaker. You require daily cortisol shots
(20:53):
just to get your ass on stage. Had a show
in Indianapolis. You jump into the audience, cracking two ribs
and suffering internal hemorrhaging in the process. You have a
drug induced heart attack while performing in New Orleans, and
back home you wake up on your dealer's long, strung
out half naked. Your wallet gone, your silver watch gone,
your jewelry gone. You waste time and rehab only to
(21:15):
return home and find more things missing. The whole place
has been cleaned out. Your Harley's, your TV, your stereo,
you're recording equipment, all of it scattered throughout pawnshops in
the Greater LA area. And then Kurt Kobine of all people.
I mean, the guy didn't even want to be a
rock star, but he did it. Man, he went ahead
and beat you at your own fucking game, beat you
(21:37):
to the punch, which makes you a loser, so unrock
and roll. But you're not one to be beaten. You're
just as dark and dangerous and mysterious and depressed as Kurt.
Speaker 2 (21:47):
You can prove it, just like.
Speaker 1 (21:48):
Depeche Mode proof to the world that they were tougher
than anyone ever dreamed with Violator. So you dim lights,
you shoot up, chase some valume with a bottle of wine,
call your mom on the phone, and then slash your
wrists with a razor blade. Dave Gahan woke up screaming.
His head was swimming and Jesus Christ, his wrists were burning.
(22:10):
Paramedics were on either side of him, violently stitching up
his bloody two inch lacerations with no anesthetic, not even
to fucking stick the bite down.
Speaker 2 (22:18):
On the indignity of it.
Speaker 1 (22:19):
All, the strait jacket and the padded room. That followed
the revelation that under local law in Los Angeles, technically
he committed a crime by trying to end his life.
But why did he do it? That's what everyone wanted
to know. Of course, why let him all ask? Wasn't
his job to explain. It was his job to play
the role of.
Speaker 2 (22:38):
The rock god.
Speaker 1 (22:39):
And rock gods didn't explain, and they sure shit didn't
accept any help. That was the paradox of the thing.
Rock Stars did not get help because getting help was
admitting weakness, and weakness was defeat. Rock Stars pushed the
envelope till the sharp edges dug in between their fingers
sliced him open. Rock Stars bled. A few days later,
(23:03):
Dave checked out of the hospital, his own wounds no
longer bleeding and now wrapped in gauze. As soon as
he did so, he was a known quantity to three
very specific segments of the population. To music fans, he
was the tattooed, long hair and the leather vest, virtually
unrecognizable from the baby face kid who's saying that Peppi
(23:24):
confection just can't get enough all those years ago. To
tabloid junkies, he was a beautiful fuck up, a self
fulfilling prophecy that made you feel better about your own
shitty life while reading the paper in the morning, and
to the degenerate underworld of drug dealers, dopers, and thieves,
the people he hung with the most outside of the band.
Now that his addiction had isolated him from friends and.
Speaker 2 (23:45):
Family, Dave Gahan was a liability.
Speaker 1 (23:49):
His little stunt with the razor blade put a bullseye
on his back.
Speaker 2 (23:53):
Everyone was watching.
Speaker 1 (23:54):
Him, the cops press no drug pusher was stupid enough
to navigate to the nice part of town to the
famous rock stars Kushpat, only to get clocked by paparazzi
or worse, so Dave was forced to start making the
trek to them if he wanted to score. With the
thirty eight stuffed out his pants, wondering what was around
the next dark corner, or who he'd find inside the
(24:16):
crackdown that night, attics and varying states of zombification, skin
and bones, the only dress code, and the smell of
piss had puked there to guide you, like a ship
to port on the shores of hell. In this darkness, however,
a beacon of light shone in the distance, Martin Gore
sent word that he was readying a new batch of
songs for the next Depeche Mode album, and the band
(24:39):
convened at Electric Lady Studios in New York City, barrow
away from Dave's cocoon of hard drugs. But Dave couldn't
stop California dreaming about the next La high. From the jump,
things seemed off because someone was missing. Alan Wilder down shifted,
(25:19):
leaning his Mercedes.
Speaker 2 (25:20):
Convertible into a cur from the road.
Speaker 1 (25:23):
The car handled like a dream as the beauty of
the Scottish Highlands came into view. Up ahead on the
lush green horizon, military jets were flying low tornadoes, specifically
RAF Royal Air Force. They came in fast, their engines
burning hot, and as they streaked past the car, the
(25:44):
sound was deafening, especially since Alan had the top down.
Alan's girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, and Alan
stayed the course and tried to enjoy their leisurely drive.
But before too long, the sound of jet engines were
up on them again, and this time from behind, and
they were getting louder now closer. Alan's girlfriend turned around
(26:08):
to look and screamed. One jet appeared to be out
of control, wobbling as it got near. And they came
up on another curve, and once again Alan downshifted and
focused on what he was doing, and the Mercedes steady
and strong. The jet noise was louder, now so loud
it was shaking the car. And that's when Alan looked up.
The jet was directly overhead, not more than fifty feet
(26:31):
in the air.
Speaker 2 (26:32):
The heat, the noise, the sheer size of it.
Speaker 1 (26:35):
Alan panicked. He turned the real hard and veered off
the road, slamming on the brakes. The plane immediately dropped
and crashing over the hillside, exploding on contact. A thick
plume of smoke shot up into the air, and the
smell of fuel.
Speaker 2 (26:48):
And fire was everywhere. Alan and his.
Speaker 1 (26:51):
Girlfriend were so close to the crash site that particles
and debris were now raining down on their heads. Worst
of all, Alan could see the bodies, the dead airmen,
the mangled and twisted flesh. After the shok war off,
Alan understood that he narrowly escaped death, truly if the
(27:13):
angle on that jet had been adjusted just slightly. Alan
told himself that he'd never fly again, which was going
to be difficult because he was a member of the
world class band Depeche Mode, and traveling by playing was
kind of a huge part of the gig. Alan had
always been the new guy in the band, even more
than a decade in. He joined in nineteen eighty two
after the departure of original member Vince Clark. He was
(27:36):
a session guy, extremely talented on SyncE and keyboards, but
he quickly learned that there were many cooks in Depeche
modes on a kitchen, and unlike a traditional rock band
with wholly unique roles based drums, guitar, etc. Alan, Martin,
and Fletch were all working with the same electronic instruments.
As such, creative tension became a big part of the process.
(27:58):
One good thing about the sessions First of Faith and Devotion,
the follow up to Violator, was that they mixed things up.
Martin was playing his guitar moar and Andy got behind
the drum kit on I Feel You, a woozy, totally
sexy track that took the bluesy personal Jesus template and
turned it into the electronic psychedelia. But Dave's addiction kept
(28:21):
getting in the way, as was Martin's toxic combination of
alcohol and stress, which it made him susceptible to Grandma seizures.
Add to that the strange choice not to all live
together as a band while recording the album, and Alan
was irritated more days than not. The frustration, the plain thing,
whatever you want to blame it on. Alan was out
(28:44):
back in New York City. In May of nineteen ninety six,
Depeche Mode, now a trio, struggled to get their new
record together. It's not that things were impossible without Alan,
Dave was cagy. His drug use had done a number
not just on his body but on his voice. They
brought in a vocal coach to help, and it just
felt like work. It was no longer dangerous, no longer
(29:06):
the kind of shit that made life livable, the danger
of Depeche Mode, or the danger that used to be
Depeche Mode. It was no competition for the danger of
an La speedball, And so, like Allan before him, Dave
Gahan got up and left.
Speaker 2 (29:21):
Caught. The next plane headed.
Speaker 1 (29:23):
West, checked into the Sunset Marquee in West Hollywood, fixed
in his hotel suite's bathroom, collapsed on his hotel suite's
bathroom floor, and about twenty minutes later while trying to
be revived by doctors that Cedar Sinai died. As soon
as his heart stopped, Dave Gahan found himself floating above
his own unresponsive body. At first, he thought, well, damn,
(29:47):
he'd actually done it. Finally found his way back to
that feeling of pure euphoria that he'd been chasing for years.
But wherever he was now in the air and the
ether no longer earthly matter, pure consciousness or subconsciousness. This
place was far from u fork. He was surrounded by
total blackness. He was in the grip of fear of
(30:10):
death and decay, avoid of pain and suffering that was
trying to erase him entirely. It terrified him. He tried
to focus on his body below, but the image was
starting to fade. The blackness was winning. Hey, he yelled,
I'm up here, and no one could hear him. The
(30:32):
doctors just kept working, doing everything in their power to
bring Dave back. Two minutes passed, two minutes in which
Dave Kahan was clinically dead, two minutes of floating on
the ceiling in a black abyss, staring down at himself.
Speaker 2 (30:48):
And then as.
Speaker 1 (30:49):
The doctors kept working and as Dave fought against whatever
forces were trying to keep him in their grip. He
found himself pulled as if trapped in a tractor beam
in a sci fi movie, suddenly headed earthbound and violently
thrust through his skin and back inside his own body.
Dave Gahan could hear the steady beat of his heart,
of the monitor. He opened his eyes, his hand was
(31:13):
cuffed to a hospital bed that a cop.
Speaker 2 (31:15):
Was reading him his rights.
Speaker 1 (31:17):
He was overwhelmed with gratitude to be out of the
darkness and in the light. He was the answer to
the question he'd asked all those years ago, where were
the real rock stars?
Speaker 2 (31:28):
Well there was one right here, back from.
Speaker 1 (31:30):
The dead, chained to a cheap hospital bed, charged booked
and then shipped to a cramp cell in county, and
finally given the clarity to see that he had an
opportunity to do something different, to clean up, to start again,
to creatively challenge himself in depeche mode, and to do
so for the next three decades in counting. Gone was
(31:53):
the stigma of the rock star, and Dave Gahan knew
something about stigmas. You escape from under that, and you
escape being forever disgrace.
Speaker 2 (32:03):
Stuff. I'm Jake Brennan.
Speaker 1 (32:07):
And this is Disgraceland. All right, thanks for checking out
this episode of Disgraceland on depeche Mode. You know one
thing we didn't talk about at all in this story
(32:28):
is Johnny Cash is incredible cover of Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus.
Just an unlikely cover. But you wouldn't expect Johnny Cash
to cover depeche Mode. And that's the question of the week.
Which unlikely cover song is your favorite? It can be
any artist covering any other artist, just has to be
something kind of out of left field that you would
(32:49):
not expect, like Johnny Cash covering depeche Mode. Hit me
up six one seven nine oh six six six three
eight with your answers to this week's question of the
week and leave me a voicemail semi a text, dm
me at Disgrace sampod on the Socials, Disgrace lampod at
gmail dot com. Go ahead and leave a review for
the show if you.
Speaker 2 (33:05):
Want to help us grow.
Speaker 1 (33:06):
I'll see you guys in the next episode. Disgraceland was
created by Yours Truly. It is produced in partnership with
Double Elvis, the Exactly Write Network and iHeart Podcasts. Credits
for this episode can be found on the show notes
page at disgracelampod dot com. If you're listening as a
Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show.
(33:26):
We really appreciate it, and if not, you can become
a member right now by going to disgracelampod dot com slash.
Membership members can listen to every episode of disgracelan ad free,
rate and review the show, and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter,
and Facebook at disgracelampod and on YouTube at YouTube dot
com slash at Disgracelandpod rock a rolla. He then
Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. This is the
story about machines, about eyeliner and ecstasy, synthesizers, and subversion.
(00:23):
This is a story about how one of the softest
looking bands in pop music became one of the hardest
to kill, and about how their front man went from
a teen dream pin up to a clinically dead junkie
on the bathroom floor of a West Hollywood hotel. This
is a story about addiction, about stigma, about the line
between pleasure and pain, and about death and resurrection. And
(00:48):
this is a story about depeche Mode, a band that
made great music, unlike that clip I played for you
at the top of the show that wasn't great music.
That was preset loop from my melotron called Gothic Goatee MK.
Speaker 2 (01:05):
Two.
Speaker 1 (01:06):
I played you that loop because I can't afford the
rights to the Crossroads by Bone Thugs and Harmony. And
why would I play you that specific slice of Reaper
on the Mountaintop Cheese? Could I afford it? Because that
was the number one song in America on May twenty eighth,
nineteen ninety six, And that was the day that Dave Gahan,
(01:28):
lead singer for depeche Mode overdosed, flatlined, and spent two
minutes on the other side before dramatically coming.
Speaker 2 (01:36):
Back to life.
Speaker 1 (01:39):
On this episode, since sex Stigmas, Speedballs, Salvation and depeche Mode,
I'm Jake Brennan in this this disgrace, Lady. A giche
(02:20):
is a kind of piercing that one gets in one's perineum.
You may know the perineum by its more colloquial name,
the taint. You know, Tine is Dick Tina's ass. A
giche is not to be confused with the Prince Albert,
which is a ring or a barbell that is pierced
into the head of the penis.
Speaker 2 (02:38):
But now I'm getting off track.
Speaker 1 (02:40):
The guiche piercing procedure, as you can probably imagine, it
is quite painful. You must get on all fours with
the one doing the piercing sitting directly behind you, and
when the needle goes into that tender piece of flesh.
For a dude at least, it feels like someone has
just kicked you in the balls with a peristeel toed boots.
Guiche piercings hurt like hell, and then, according to those
(03:04):
who get them, like Depeche modes Dave Gahan, the pain
eventually turns to pleasure, just like the pain and pleasure
that lurked in the subtext of great Depeche Mode songs
like Master and Servant. Also quite like the pain Dave
experienced when he was written off as some teen magazine
electro pop flavor of the week, only to experience pleasure
(03:26):
when he proved himself more dangerous, more subversive, and more
rock and roll than anyone could have imagined. But Dave
Gahan wasn't feeling pain or pleasure at the moment in
his perennium or anywhere else for that matter, because Dave
Gahan was dead. Years of abuse of an unshakable addiction
(03:47):
to shooting junk, to doing cocaine had all led to
this inevitable end. The Depeche Mode front man's tattooed body,
blue and cold, lay flat.
Speaker 2 (03:57):
And motionless on a hospital bed.
Speaker 1 (04:00):
It was shortly after two o'clock in the morning on
May twenty eighth, nineteen ninety six. The staff at Cedar
Sinai and Los Angeles were ready to call it. I
think we lost him, one of the doctors said. Another
doctor was wiping the sweat from his brow, and Dave Gahan,
only thirty four years old, had no pulse and no
signs of life. Earlier that evening, Dave Gahan was headed
(04:25):
toward the point in overturn. He settled his bar tab
at the Sunset Marquis Hotel in West Hollywood and made
his way back to his room. On his arm was
a beautiful woman that he just met. Following closely behind,
like a dark shadow, was his dealer. Inside his room,
Dave told the woman to hang tight. He stepped into
the bathroom, and that dark shadow followed. Out of a
(04:48):
small bag with a zipper, came the goods, the only
thing Dave really wanted tonight, even more than the beautiful
woman who was on the other side of the bathroom door,
currently reapplying her makeup. The dealer prepped the speedball. This
right here, this is called red rum. Do some of
this and you'll be shining like Danny fucking Torrents. Dave
took the syringe and stuck it into his flesh. The
(05:11):
needle broke the skin, and Dave ran down the plunger
and the junk rocketed into his blood stream, and he
was sent sword toward the very specific sense of euphoria
that he felt the very first time that he shot
heroin and had yet to reach again. This time, though
he was getting closer, he just had to hang on
a little longer. You could see it, taste it high
(05:35):
and teased him, and then he was out. All one
hundred pounds, give or take of Dave Kahan's junkie body
came crashing down onto the bathroom tile. The dealer had
seen this kind of thing before, even with smack heavyweights.
He gave Dave's face a slap. Nothing, come on, Dave,
he said, giving a few more wax with the back
(05:57):
of his hand, and still nothing. He shook Dave's lifeless body.
Speaker 2 (06:01):
Fuck.
Speaker 1 (06:02):
Dave wasn't here, man, and the dealer grabbed Dave by
the lapels and burst out of the bathroom, dragging the
body across the floor. And the girl in the bedroom
took one look at Dave's sweaty body in the track
marks and his hands starting to lose color, and she freaked.
She nearly knocked the phone off the bedside table when
she grabbed the receiver, Her hand shook uncomfortably as she
began to dial nine one one, and the dealer saw
(06:24):
this and dropped Day's body. It was on the girl instantly,
he slapped the receiver out of her hand and hung
it up. What the fuck did she think she was doing?
Nine to one one the fucking police, No way. The
girl fought back, She pushed, she shoved, she kicked and screamed,
and the dealer got annoyed and bounced. Problem was hers now,
and the girl died nine one one once more. Fifteen
(06:47):
minutes later, paramedics were strapping Dave Gahan's lifeless body onto
a gurney and loading him into an ambulance bound for
Cedar Sinai, one and a half miles away. They weren't
surprised at who they were looking at. Famous in these parts,
all right, and not just for his music. At the hospital,
a team of doctors worked to bring him back to life,
(07:07):
and they performed chess compressions and ready to defibrillator, and
that's when Dave Gahan's heart stopped. He flat lined. Here
was a guy who once wore his toughness on his
sleeve and his music, a guy who went from pain
to pleasure of time and again, pushing past being pigeonholed
creatively and pushing through a debilitating addiction and through a
(07:30):
piercing in his taint, a guy who is now, by
any in all measures dead. Six years earlier, on March twentieth,
(08:09):
nineteen ninety, the streets of Los Angeles were overrun with
Depeche Mode fans, seventeen thousand people to be exact, stretching
out for fifteen city blocks down Los Sianco Boulevard. It
was merely a fraction of the nearly seventy thousand who's
shown up at the Rose Bowl in nearby Pasadena two
years prior, but that was the final show of the
(08:30):
van's first true American tour. In this was a record
release signing for Violator Depeche mode seventh studio album. And
in this case, it's not like a niche audience was
showing up for a niche band. It wasn't just girls
and leather jackets and cut off shirts anymore, or guys
with kraftwork by way of Jean Vincent fashion sense. It
(08:51):
was Sportos, Motorheads, slots, bloods, waisteoys, Threevies, and dickheads. Every
sub click of late eighties era American teenager was in attendance.
Grown Up America, Square America, Crosby Stills in Whoever the
Fuck America. Those people didn't know who or what the
pesche mode was. They didn't know what to make of
the UK band's recent single Person of Jesus, the one
(09:13):
with the twangy spaghetti Western guitar motif, the swaggering beat,
the sweaty sounding breathing, and the call to action to
reach out and touch faith, the song that freaked my
mother out when she caught me watching it on MTV
one afternoon. For reasons that I still can't understand, Square
America didn't know how Personal Jesus was actually connected to
(09:33):
the past, to their music, to rock and roll history,
or how the band's primary songwriter, Martin Gore conceived of
him after reading Priscilla Presley's memoir Elvis and Me. Square America,
the Young and Restless America, Macho Fucko America could hardly
fathom how in nineteen ninety this was a new kind
of Beatlemania, and tonight the human gridlock swallowing up the
(09:57):
entire street in LA was about to turn into a riot.
It was nine pm. The latest single from Violator, Enjoy
the Silence, would cross over and hit number eight on
the Billboard Hot one hundred in just a month's time.
Right now, that song was thundering from speakers outside the Warehouse,
the music store that was hosting tonight's meet and greet.
(10:20):
A limo rolled down La Sienega. Girls screamed at it
while the dudes used their bodies to try to stop it.
But when it finally did come to a halt, the
limo was directly in front of the warehouse. The back
door opened and outstepped Dave Kahan, Martin Gore, and Depeche Modes,
two keyboardists Alan Wilder and Andrew Fletcher aka Fletch, who
(10:41):
were hustled inside by the security detail. Just a glance
at the quartet and suddenly it was bedlam on the block.
Thousands of kids surged from the street towards the store,
their bodies pressed up against the giant glass windows. Some
climbed trees or TV news vans to get a better look.
Thousands more took to the Beverly Centers the street, racing
(11:01):
to the top floors of the structure to lean over
the balconies for a bird's eye view. As security guards
struggled to maintain order. Ahalanx of lapd and full rioty
is steadily closed in marching in tight unison down La Sienaga.
One hundred cops strong called in to protect and serve
in moments of extreme danger and right now. On March twentieth,
(11:24):
nineteen ninety, the day they released their album Violator, depeche
Mode were the most dangerous thing going. But back in
nineteen eighty one, when they'd released their debut album, depeche
Mode were anything but dangerous. They weren't even a band.
They were a joke. Let me explain. If you came
(11:45):
of age in the nineteen eighties and you were into
alternative music or college rock or whatever we were calling it,
then then you knew about this band called KMFDM, even
if you didn't listen to them. KMFDM were a German
industrial band, and their name was an acronym for you're
gonna have to forgive my pronunciation here kine meier hate
fur d might lade, which translates to no pity for
(12:10):
the majority. But nobody, and I mean nobody knew what
KMFDM actually stood for. We all thought it meant kill
motherfucking depeche Mode. Why because Depeche Mode were an affront
to real bands using real instruments. Where were the guitars?
Where were the drums? Was all synthesizers, It was all machines.
(12:33):
It was soulless, dead inside music. The pop equivalent of
five construction workers standing around a hole while one guy
did all the digging, as a UK magazine Melody Maker
noted in the review of the band's Jaunt nineteen eighty
one debut single just Can't Get Enough I can you will?
At least that was the thinking anyway. In reality, Depeche
(12:54):
Mode thought of themselves as the opposite. They were punks
from Basildon, the town just outside London. The synthesizer was
like Johnny Ramones mos wright guitar or Paul simonon smashed
p bass. It was diy, It was rough and tumble
and it was novel. With a few synthesizers, you could
be in a proper band, but eliminate the age old
hassle of busting your sorry asked, lugging equipment and all
(13:16):
that other share around night after night. But although they
modeled themselves as a poppier version of experimental noise bands
like Einstraden Neubaden in Australia's SBK, the latter, which eate
raw sheep brains on stage during a show. Depeche Mode
was misunderstood by the pop cogniscente as disposable synthetic garbage.
At least Duran Durand played instruments.
Speaker 2 (13:39):
Again. This was the thinking, anyway.
Speaker 1 (13:42):
That was before the group's original co founder and lead songwriter,
Vince Clark abruptly left around the time their first album,
Speaking Spell, was released in the fall.
Speaker 2 (13:50):
Of nineteen eighty one.
Speaker 1 (13:52):
It was before Fletch and Alan Wilder began to find
new ways to make their machine sound more human. It
was before Martin Gore stepped up to fill that songwriting
void and began to deliver songs that were darker and
more provocative.
Speaker 2 (14:05):
And more subversive.
Speaker 1 (14:07):
Songs like people Are People, blasphemous rumors, black celebration, and
the aforementioned Master and Servant, songs about s and m
songs about God's supposed sixth sense of humor, songs about
death and with a killer.
Speaker 2 (14:20):
Beat to boom.
Speaker 1 (14:21):
And it was before Music for the Masses, Depeche Mode's
sixth album in as many.
Speaker 2 (14:26):
Years, that was released in nineteen eighty seven.
Speaker 1 (14:30):
The title was meant to be tongue in cheek, but
wound up becoming the band's biggest record to date. Ditto
for the US tour the following that once malign synthpop
sound was now selling out ninety five percent of the
seats at the enormous Rose Bowl, an epic final show
which veteran rock and roll documentary filmmaker Da Pennebaker turned
into the most excellent concert film one oh one all
(14:52):
of It, leading to this Violator a smash upon its release,
already out selling chart mainstays Madonna and Prince.
Speaker 2 (15:02):
It also helped that.
Speaker 1 (15:03):
It was the first Depeche Mode record to prominently feature
Martin Gore's guitar, which helped bridge the gap between the
mainstream and the goth electropop world from which they emerged.
But Violator was more than another record. Violator was vindication.
From inside his safe spot in the warehouse, seated at
(15:23):
a long table with a black sharpie in his hand,
a parade of fans streaming by with records and posters
to sign, Dave Gahan was all smiles. He watched an
awe as seventeen thousand people shut down traffic in one
of the busiest spots in La all for his band,
and then awe turned to fear as the giant panes
(15:44):
of glass began to buckle from all the bodies pressing.
Speaker 2 (15:47):
Up against them.
Speaker 1 (15:48):
Muffled screams could be heard outside as the riot police
moved in on the crowd and the red lights of
ambulances rolling in to take injured fans to the hospital. Now,
Depeche Mode's manager was frantic trying to get their attention. Boys,
We need to go now. It was ten pm and
the event was scheduled to go until midnight, but LAPD
(16:10):
was shutting the whole thing down. Square America wanted their
streets back. Dave, Martin, Allen and Fletch whisked into their
stretch job.
Speaker 2 (16:19):
Waiting outside, the.
Speaker 1 (16:20):
Crowd was ecal parts, confused and angry. So bottles, bricks,
anything people could get their hands on were now flying.
Speaker 2 (16:26):
Through the air.
Speaker 1 (16:27):
They were the LAPDS problem now, and the LAPD dealt
with that problem swiftly and efficiently. It cost the city
of Los Angeles eighteen thousand dollars to pay for one
hundred plus riot police. But when the dust settled, the
city went looking for someone to foot the bill, whether
that was the warehouse or caro Q the local alternative
radio station that promoted the event. Depeche Mode were long
(16:50):
gone by the time Warehouse poned up the cash. Not
that the band was concerned about price tags. Not at
this moment. They were riding high on that vindication feeling.
Their limo faded away into that March evening, so did
the stigma that had followed them since the beginning. Something
else was about to take its place, a crossover success
(17:10):
fame and Dave Gahan's transformation from synthpop joke to an
honest to god rock star, a transformation that.
Speaker 2 (17:20):
Would kill We'll be right back after this. We're were were.
Speaker 1 (17:34):
The World Violation Tour was massive, eighty eight shows on
four continents over the course of six months, sold out
stadiums from New York to Texas to California. Eddie Murphy,
Sylvester Stallone, You Two's Bono, just a few of the
pop culture luminaries on the guest list backstage. This was
nineteen ninety, the same year that Madonna rocked the piny
(17:56):
Cone bra on her Blonde Ambition tour, and also the
year the Rolling Star Stone Steel Wheels Tour. The Stones
had once been the avatars of dangerous but now they
were just going through the corporate machinations. The Stones didn't
shock or offend anymore, not in nineteen ninety. Depeche Mode,
on the other hand, as popular as they were becoming,
(18:17):
still gun under the skin walking down some suburban street
in America. Eddie cochrane hair fingernails painted, black leather jackets
over bear chest. Martin Gore, in address the androgynist rockabilly
goth vibe of it all, elicited more than one homophobic
slur from passing pickup trucks. In fact, Alan Wilder said
(18:37):
in a Rolling Stone interview from this very time that
he'd been called that slur at least twenty times so
far that day alone, and Alan was one of the
more conservatively addressed in the group. Depeche Mode did what
rock and roll does, real rock and roll. They were provocative,
They challenged the accepted norms. They pissed people off. Then
(18:59):
they did it jam cono style in the process, just
a handful of synthesizers and samplers, smart and Gore's gretch
white Falcon guitar and Dave Gahan's rock Stars stance. Powered
by pure adrenaline and also by.
Speaker 2 (19:13):
The ecstasy they took each night.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
After the show, Dave in particular went deep into what
he understood was the rock star's duty.
Speaker 2 (19:20):
You didn't cut your hair short.
Speaker 1 (19:21):
Wear a crop top, pasted out T shirt, and flap
your arms like some old horn dog rooster, as Mick
Jagger was now doing at forty seven years old. By
the way, Mick Jaggers shouldn't even be alive at forty
seven years old. Where were the real ones? Dave Gahan
wanted to know, the ones that burned out and didn't
fade away, the ones who died before they got old.
The Jimmy's, the janicis the Jimbos. They were long gone
(19:45):
and the void they left behind was huge. So when
the World Violation Tour ends, your sole purpose is to
fill that void. You leave your wife and child in
London because London is over. La is where it's at,
and that's where rock stars are not only dead but undead,
roaming the wet streets of Hollywood Boulevard at night like vampires.
Speaker 2 (20:08):
So you move to la.
Speaker 1 (20:09):
Only without your wife and child, but with your new
girlfriend who used to be your publicist, and you let
your hair go long, you grow a go tea, you
get wings, tattooed on your back, an old Celtic symbol
meant to ward off evil. If evil notices, it doesn't care.
You think some ink on your back is going to
hold the forces of fucking darkness at bay.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
Who are you kidding? You don't even care either.
Speaker 1 (20:32):
Long nights of popping e turn into endless days of
shooting junk. You fix in dressing rooms and bathrooms in
your favorite place of all, the Blue Room, a small
room in your house where you can shoot up alone
if you lose way In Back on the road with
Depeche Mode for the biggest tour of your life. You
can feel yourself getting weaker. You require daily cortisol shots
(20:53):
just to get your ass on stage. Had a show
in Indianapolis. You jump into the audience, cracking two ribs
and suffering internal hemorrhaging in the process. You have a
drug induced heart attack while performing in New Orleans, and
back home you wake up on your dealer's long, strung
out half naked. Your wallet gone, your silver watch gone,
your jewelry gone. You waste time and rehab only to
(21:15):
return home and find more things missing. The whole place
has been cleaned out. Your Harley's, your TV, your stereo,
you're recording equipment, all of it scattered throughout pawnshops in
the Greater LA area. And then Kurt Kobine of all people.
I mean, the guy didn't even want to be a
rock star, but he did it. Man, he went ahead
and beat you at your own fucking game, beat you
(21:37):
to the punch, which makes you a loser, so unrock
and roll. But you're not one to be beaten. You're
just as dark and dangerous and mysterious and depressed as Kurt.
Speaker 2 (21:47):
You can prove it, just like.
Speaker 1 (21:48):
Depeche Mode proof to the world that they were tougher
than anyone ever dreamed with Violator. So you dim lights,
you shoot up, chase some valume with a bottle of wine,
call your mom on the phone, and then slash your
wrists with a razor blade. Dave Gahan woke up screaming.
His head was swimming and Jesus Christ, his wrists were burning.
(22:10):
Paramedics were on either side of him, violently stitching up
his bloody two inch lacerations with no anesthetic, not even
to fucking stick the bite down.
Speaker 2 (22:18):
On the indignity of it.
Speaker 1 (22:19):
All, the strait jacket and the padded room. That followed
the revelation that under local law in Los Angeles, technically
he committed a crime by trying to end his life.
But why did he do it? That's what everyone wanted
to know. Of course, why let him all ask? Wasn't
his job to explain. It was his job to play
the role of.
Speaker 2 (22:38):
The rock god.
Speaker 1 (22:39):
And rock gods didn't explain, and they sure shit didn't
accept any help. That was the paradox of the thing.
Rock Stars did not get help because getting help was
admitting weakness, and weakness was defeat. Rock Stars pushed the
envelope till the sharp edges dug in between their fingers
sliced him open. Rock Stars bled. A few days later,
(23:03):
Dave checked out of the hospital, his own wounds no
longer bleeding and now wrapped in gauze. As soon as
he did so, he was a known quantity to three
very specific segments of the population. To music fans, he
was the tattooed, long hair and the leather vest, virtually
unrecognizable from the baby face kid who's saying that Peppi
(23:24):
confection just can't get enough all those years ago. To
tabloid junkies, he was a beautiful fuck up, a self
fulfilling prophecy that made you feel better about your own
shitty life while reading the paper in the morning, and
to the degenerate underworld of drug dealers, dopers, and thieves,
the people he hung with the most outside of the band.
Now that his addiction had isolated him from friends and.
Speaker 2 (23:45):
Family, Dave Gahan was a liability.
Speaker 1 (23:49):
His little stunt with the razor blade put a bullseye
on his back.
Speaker 2 (23:53):
Everyone was watching.
Speaker 1 (23:54):
Him, the cops press no drug pusher was stupid enough
to navigate to the nice part of town to the
famous rock stars Kushpat, only to get clocked by paparazzi
or worse, so Dave was forced to start making the
trek to them if he wanted to score. With the
thirty eight stuffed out his pants, wondering what was around
the next dark corner, or who he'd find inside the
(24:16):
crackdown that night, attics and varying states of zombification, skin
and bones, the only dress code, and the smell of
piss had puked there to guide you, like a ship
to port on the shores of hell. In this darkness, however,
a beacon of light shone in the distance, Martin Gore
sent word that he was readying a new batch of
songs for the next Depeche Mode album, and the band
(24:39):
convened at Electric Lady Studios in New York City, barrow
away from Dave's cocoon of hard drugs. But Dave couldn't
stop California dreaming about the next La high. From the jump,
things seemed off because someone was missing. Alan Wilder down shifted,
(25:19):
leaning his Mercedes.
Speaker 2 (25:20):
Convertible into a cur from the road.
Speaker 1 (25:23):
The car handled like a dream as the beauty of
the Scottish Highlands came into view. Up ahead on the
lush green horizon, military jets were flying low tornadoes, specifically
RAF Royal Air Force. They came in fast, their engines
burning hot, and as they streaked past the car, the
(25:44):
sound was deafening, especially since Alan had the top down.
Alan's girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, and Alan
stayed the course and tried to enjoy their leisurely drive.
But before too long, the sound of jet engines were
up on them again, and this time from behind, and
they were getting louder now closer. Alan's girlfriend turned around
(26:08):
to look and screamed. One jet appeared to be out
of control, wobbling as it got near. And they came
up on another curve, and once again Alan downshifted and
focused on what he was doing, and the Mercedes steady
and strong. The jet noise was louder, now so loud
it was shaking the car. And that's when Alan looked up.
The jet was directly overhead, not more than fifty feet
(26:31):
in the air.
Speaker 2 (26:32):
The heat, the noise, the sheer size of it.
Speaker 1 (26:35):
Alan panicked. He turned the real hard and veered off
the road, slamming on the brakes. The plane immediately dropped
and crashing over the hillside, exploding on contact. A thick
plume of smoke shot up into the air, and the
smell of fuel.
Speaker 2 (26:48):
And fire was everywhere. Alan and his.
Speaker 1 (26:51):
Girlfriend were so close to the crash site that particles
and debris were now raining down on their heads. Worst
of all, Alan could see the bodies, the dead airmen,
the mangled and twisted flesh. After the shok war off,
Alan understood that he narrowly escaped death, truly if the
(27:13):
angle on that jet had been adjusted just slightly. Alan
told himself that he'd never fly again, which was going
to be difficult because he was a member of the
world class band Depeche Mode, and traveling by playing was
kind of a huge part of the gig. Alan had
always been the new guy in the band, even more
than a decade in. He joined in nineteen eighty two
after the departure of original member Vince Clark. He was
(27:36):
a session guy, extremely talented on SyncE and keyboards, but
he quickly learned that there were many cooks in Depeche
modes on a kitchen, and unlike a traditional rock band
with wholly unique roles based drums, guitar, etc. Alan, Martin,
and Fletch were all working with the same electronic instruments.
As such, creative tension became a big part of the process.
(27:58):
One good thing about the sessions First of Faith and Devotion,
the follow up to Violator, was that they mixed things up.
Martin was playing his guitar moar and Andy got behind
the drum kit on I Feel You, a woozy, totally
sexy track that took the bluesy personal Jesus template and
turned it into the electronic psychedelia. But Dave's addiction kept
(28:21):
getting in the way, as was Martin's toxic combination of
alcohol and stress, which it made him susceptible to Grandma seizures.
Add to that the strange choice not to all live
together as a band while recording the album, and Alan
was irritated more days than not. The frustration, the plain thing,
whatever you want to blame it on. Alan was out
(28:44):
back in New York City. In May of nineteen ninety six,
Depeche Mode, now a trio, struggled to get their new
record together. It's not that things were impossible without Alan,
Dave was cagy. His drug use had done a number
not just on his body but on his voice. They
brought in a vocal coach to help, and it just
felt like work. It was no longer dangerous, no longer
(29:06):
the kind of shit that made life livable, the danger
of Depeche Mode, or the danger that used to be
Depeche Mode. It was no competition for the danger of
an La speedball, And so, like Allan before him, Dave
Gahan got up and left.
Speaker 2 (29:21):
Caught. The next plane headed.
Speaker 1 (29:23):
West, checked into the Sunset Marquee in West Hollywood, fixed
in his hotel suite's bathroom, collapsed on his hotel suite's
bathroom floor, and about twenty minutes later while trying to
be revived by doctors that Cedar Sinai died. As soon
as his heart stopped, Dave Gahan found himself floating above
his own unresponsive body. At first, he thought, well, damn,
(29:47):
he'd actually done it. Finally found his way back to
that feeling of pure euphoria that he'd been chasing for years.
But wherever he was now in the air and the
ether no longer earthly matter, pure consciousness or subconsciousness. This
place was far from u fork. He was surrounded by
total blackness. He was in the grip of fear of
(30:10):
death and decay, avoid of pain and suffering that was
trying to erase him entirely. It terrified him. He tried
to focus on his body below, but the image was
starting to fade. The blackness was winning. Hey, he yelled,
I'm up here, and no one could hear him. The
(30:32):
doctors just kept working, doing everything in their power to
bring Dave back. Two minutes passed, two minutes in which
Dave Kahan was clinically dead, two minutes of floating on
the ceiling in a black abyss, staring down at himself.
Speaker 2 (30:48):
And then as.
Speaker 1 (30:49):
The doctors kept working and as Dave fought against whatever
forces were trying to keep him in their grip. He
found himself pulled as if trapped in a tractor beam
in a sci fi movie, suddenly headed earthbound and violently
thrust through his skin and back inside his own body.
Dave Gahan could hear the steady beat of his heart,
of the monitor. He opened his eyes, his hand was
(31:13):
cuffed to a hospital bed that a cop.
Speaker 2 (31:15):
Was reading him his rights.
Speaker 1 (31:17):
He was overwhelmed with gratitude to be out of the
darkness and in the light. He was the answer to
the question he'd asked all those years ago, where were
the real rock stars?
Speaker 2 (31:28):
Well there was one right here, back from.
Speaker 1 (31:30):
The dead, chained to a cheap hospital bed, charged booked
and then shipped to a cramp cell in county, and
finally given the clarity to see that he had an
opportunity to do something different, to clean up, to start again,
to creatively challenge himself in depeche mode, and to do
so for the next three decades in counting. Gone was
(31:53):
the stigma of the rock star, and Dave Gahan knew
something about stigmas. You escape from under that, and you
escape being forever disgrace.
Speaker 2 (32:03):
Stuff. I'm Jake Brennan.
Speaker 1 (32:07):
And this is Disgraceland. All right, thanks for checking out
this episode of Disgraceland on depeche Mode. You know one
thing we didn't talk about at all in this story
(32:28):
is Johnny Cash is incredible cover of Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus.
Just an unlikely cover. But you wouldn't expect Johnny Cash
to cover depeche Mode. And that's the question of the week.
Which unlikely cover song is your favorite? It can be
any artist covering any other artist, just has to be
something kind of out of left field that you would
(32:49):
not expect, like Johnny Cash covering depeche Mode. Hit me
up six one seven nine oh six six six three
eight with your answers to this week's question of the
week and leave me a voicemail semi a text, dm
me at Disgrace sampod on the Socials, Disgrace lampod at
gmail dot com. Go ahead and leave a review for
the show if you.
Speaker 2 (33:05):
Want to help us grow.
Speaker 1 (33:06):
I'll see you guys in the next episode. Disgraceland was
created by Yours Truly. It is produced in partnership with
Double Elvis, the Exactly Write Network and iHeart Podcasts. Credits
for this episode can be found on the show notes
page at disgracelampod dot com. If you're listening as a
Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show.
(33:26):
We really appreciate it, and if not, you can become
a member right now by going to disgracelampod dot com slash.
Membership members can listen to every episode of disgracelan ad free,
rate and review the show, and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter,
and Facebook at disgracelampod and on YouTube at YouTube dot
com slash at Disgracelandpod rock a rolla. He then
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