For nearly four decades now, Dave Gahan has been the predominant vocalist in Depeche Mode. As such, Gahan's voice has only grown stronger over the years—deeper, more controlled, and more iconic. During this time, that voice has mostly been employed in the service of someone else's songs, that person being Depeche Mode co-conspirator and the band's primary songwriter Martin Gore. It only makes sense that at some point—namely, around the time of 2005's Playing the Angel—that Gahan would want a more active role. Outside of the band, he would eventually release two solo albums—2003's Paper Monsters and 2007's Hourglass—and two collaborations with Soulsavers (aka British producer Rich Machin).
Angels & Ghosts is Gahan's second full-length album with Soulsavers. Much like 2012's The Light the Dead See, the record offers an opportunity for Gahan to stretch his legs creatively and shake off some of the baggage that a band with a 35-year history like Depeche Mode invariably has to carry around. In doing so, Gahan and co. largely abandon heavy electronics in favor of something resembling blues rock and gospel-infused Americana, complete with churchy backup singers and quietly shaken tambourines.
The album opens with "Shine"—a kind of stomping, slide-guitar heavy slow burner in which Gahan imbues a ridiculous line like "when you look around, it's so profound, what we can do" with a kind of gravitas that only someone with his particular pipes can pull off, but it still feels like a lightweight version of Depeche Mode's "I Feel You". "You Owe Me" could be a distant cousin to Chris Isaak's "Wicked Game"—all midnight hues and romantic yearning—while "One Thing" is the kind of piano-driven ballad that you could almost imagine popping up on a Depeche Mode record. "Just lay down next to me," Gahan sings, "We can watch those tasteless shows on our TV." It's the kind of 'no one understands us and it's us against the world forever' track that Gahan has made a career out of perfectly articulating, but in the end the entire thing gets punched in the face by a chorus lyric so hackneyed that one wonder how on earth it actually made it onto the record: "You just need one thing/ Love."
As a frontman, Gahan is a marvel of preening and grandstanding, which means that he actually shines on tracks that aren't afraid to get all messianic and pump up the melodrama. In that sense, the album's lead track, "All of This and Nothing" (despite also famously being the title of a Psychedelic Furs song and album) is perfect for him. The song is populated by black waters, heavy storms, and ghosts that hover continuously outside of windows, which means it's classic territory for Gahan. "I'm all of this and nothing/ I'm the dirt beneath your feet/ I'm the sun that rises while you're sleeping/ I'm all you need" he sings, sounding for the first time like the kind of equally doomed and exalted kind of character that he embodies so well. If there's something decidedly lacking on Angels & Ghosts, it's more of his famously gothy bravado. Gahan clearly has a predilection for casting himself as the tortured sinner ("One hand in my pocket/ One foot in the grave/ Standing here, waiting to be saved"), but the nine tracks here—packed full of twangy guitars and tastefully deployed string sections—reach for a kind of holy redemption that they don't ever actually earn.
Angels & Ghosts isn't a bad record, but it's frustratingly tepid. Superfans will still find pleasure in hearing Gahan's voice tear through these songs. But at this point, a truly radical departure—or even some kind of insanely catastrophic creative failure—would be more interesting than another selection of songs half-heartedly playing around with tired blues and gospel motifs. One certainly can't fault Gahan for needing his own private creative outlet, but at this point just writing more flatly on-the-nose songs about sin and faith and redemption doesn't sound refreshing or the least bit fun, but instead like something you've already heard him tackle a million times already.
