Definitely not one to miss—the following tour will be a true celebration of life in memory of death—something ends, and something new begins. The following is an even more subjective tribute than usual.

A strange, bittersweet, nostalgic feeling hit me when I listened to their new track Ghosts Again in early February. The band, now shrunk from four to two members, captured something incredible—hard to put into words—but it’s all there in the song and in the brilliant video, as usual directed by Anton Corbijn.

It’s tempting to explain the melancholy through the loss of a founding comrade, but it feels like we’re saying goodbye to something far bigger here. Fletch isn’t the first death in DM’s history. Singer Dave Gahan has also “died” once—in May 1996 from a drug overdose, albeit for only two minutes—and Alan Wilder is only present in spirit, having left in 1995, just like Vince Clarke, who departed in 1981 for Yazoo, later moving on to Erasure.

Ghosts and the Undead

We are mourning an era when music was as inseparable from life as the internet is today. Owning a new vinyl record was more exciting than scoring a new iPhone on sale, and seeing a Western band live was a joy almost impossible to replicate. Of course, this is a super-subjective reflection; maybe it just stirred up my own nostalgia. Back then, there were plenty who didn’t care, just as there are now.

Regardless, let’s look at the band’s history with Hungary, their influence on local pop culture, and why a Budapest gig is always different from the rest.

Synthpop Riot Crew

The Basildon–Budapest axis has always been a historically strong alliance. Depeche Mode rose from this utterly insignificant East England town to become for us Hungarians much more than just an ’80s synthpop band. Being a Depeses/Módos (Mode-head) was a commitment, a statement, a serious cultural and identity choice.

Within the movement, you could choose to be a daves, martinos, alanes, or andys, depending on wich member you associated with the most.

I remember being held back from the seventh-grade school dance because outside the building, a New Romantic vs. Synthpop showdown was happening—Duran Duran fans brawling with the “Depes” crowd at the entrance. As a metalhead, I watched with curious disdain. Even in my awkward adolescent love life, I noticed the Mód. My first “girlfriend,” Kriszta (we maybe held hands once), was Depeche Mode-obsessed, while I was a fanatical Iron Maiden fan.

This sparked endless personal music debates. My buddy Roli in high school wore out our ears with DM’s then-new 101 live album (a genius piece, as I see now), and I eventually dragged him to the darker side. Ervin, the third in our music-crazed trio, remained loyal to The Cure—props to his soul.

Depeche Mode first played Hungary in 1985, apparently mostly witnessed by East-German tourists, stunned by their luck. There was no fuss then, but by 1988, the waiting crowd outside the hotel put them under a quasi-quarantine.

Then came 1993 at MTK Stadium. I actually attended this one, with a seated ticket (the crowd broke through to GA), and it probably would have amazed me if I hadn’t been at the U2’s  Zoo TV show at Népstadion just days earlier.

They also played here on September 12, 2001 (!!), 2006, 2009, 2010, 2013, and 2018. Even though some tours skipped Hungary, DM remained a frequent visitor, but that alone doesn’t explain what drew Hungarian fans to them—their noir-pop, leather-clad Moog masses, sadomasochistic gospels, and occasionally blasphemous hits.

Black Celebration (1986) and Music for the Masses (1987) made them stars worldwide, but the cult status they achieved in Hungary was unmatched, perhaps with exception of California. Go figure…

Hungarian Mode

Riding the wave of DM’s incredible domestic popularity, several local bands tried to emulate their sound—mostly unsuccessfully. The undisputed king of Mód-copies was Bonanza Banzai. Founded around 1987 by Hauber Zsolt and Kovács Akosh, and later joined on the advice of their famous/infamous manager Fábián Tibor, Menczel Gábor entered the band.

Their legacy: eight studio albums (five gold), two live albums, six sold-out BS concerts. BB always vehemently objected to being compared with DM, but facts are stubborn things.

Akosh’s labyrinthine, superficially deep yet actually meaningless lyrics, empty posturing, and sheer willpower distinguished them from their English models—but to this day, we remember Bonanza as the Hungarian Depes.

Dr Beat was even more raw, yet somehow endearing despite its clumsiness—a trio with Garam Péter on synths, Selmeci Kristóf on sampler, and Szilágyi Sziko Gábor on vocals/drum machine. For a short while, Rábaközi Andrea (model) and Clavier Charlotte (ex-R-Go) were also part of the lineup.

Their sole 1990 album had mediocre demo-level sound and often laughable lyrics, but they were still frequent guests at DM fanclub events.

For a deeper dive into Hungary’s synthpop golden age, click here.

Depeche Dope

In 1994, I started working at Polygram records, whose common owners meant it was a sister company to Multimedia Concerts, then Hungary’s leading concert organizer. That’s where I met Gyuri Mező, Mizo—the company’s hyperactive, charmingly eccentric engine—who worked every major tour and concert in Hungary and Central-Eastern Europe from 1985 until his move to the U.S.

Hungry for insider gossip, I began asking about my favorite bands’ behind-the-scenes. When the topic of the heaviest drug use came up, I was shocked: it wasn’t Guns N’ Roses or Metallica—it was Depeche Mode.

Dave first adopted a junkie-rockstar look due to the grunge wave, but once he tried heroin, he knew he had arrived. Local promoters were sometimes touched by the situation. Mizo recalls one summer adventure with Dave:

“In summer 1993, I was juggling three tours in the region—Depeche Mode, Metallica, and Jean-Michel Jarre. I hadn’t slept for days, running stadium to stadium, not knowing which way was up. In the chaos, I forgot to tell my contact to arrange Dave’s daily cocaine. I had managed it in Prague the night before, but here I slipped. Back then, bands didn’t risk crossing Eastern Bloc borders with drugs, so I had to handle it days in advance. I even had to be a small-time dealer—but that was normal thirty years ago, and the small side cash was welcome. I met the band at the airport; the tour manager asked immediately when the stash would arrive at the hotel. I panicked, realizing I had completely forgotten. Desperate, I called anyone I could—but could only get a little weed. When I entered the hotel bar, Dave sat surrounded by women, screaming drunk. When he heard there was nothing, he lost it further and came for me. Ivan, the tour manager, restrained him, assuring him that the next morning there would be supply, and George was helping us a lot anyway. I was relieved we didn’t fight, and I never forgot to arrange drugs on time again for bands playing here.”

Shortly afterward, Gahan nearly ended himself in LA with a coke-heroin combo, halting his drug career. Meanwhile, heavy-drinking Martin self-medicated depression with alcohol. The mid-’90s were dark for the band, yet great songs still emerged.

Today, Dave and Martin are long clean, and the singer has been spotted at Budapest NA (Narcotics Anonymous) meetings, proving that the program works if you work it.

Memento Mori

As noted in the introduction, the band’s newest album, Memento Mori (Remember Death), was released on March 24 (2023). Admittedly, DM hadn’t really produced a cohesive, lasting record on the level of their early albums since 1996’s Ultra, though every album had some solid tracks.

Memento Mori, however, is arguably the best Depeche album of the 2000s, regardless of the fact, that beyond the lead single Ghosts Again, I didn’t find another truly standout track. Caroline’s Monkey might stick in your head, but the full album feels like a dark, prolonged farewell.

Fletcher’s passing raised big questions: how would the fire-and-water duo Gore-Gahan cope in the studio? With producers James Ford (Arctic Monkeys), Richard Butler (Psychedelic Furs), and engineer/co-producer Marta Salogni (Björk), a supportive fraternal alliance emerged from the shaken stars.

They turned pain into magic with dignity, their signature catchy nihilism flowing through the album with comforting simplicity.

There’s no massive revelation; today’s teens may not fall for DM, but it’s a solid rebirth following loss. Beautiful work.

The band’s tour recently kicked off on the U.S. East Coast. In the YouTube era, there’s no “surprise stage,” but at least we can brace for moving, tear-inducing moments, like World in My Eyes, dedicated nightly to their fallen comrade. True Black Celebration.

photo By Ailura – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0