Scrambling back on the bandwagon

I saw Depeche Mode last night at the Air Canada Centre and it was awesome.

I've been a Depeche Mode fan since their 1987 release, "Music for the Masses," but it wasn't until 1993's "Songs of Faith and Devotion" that I became rabid, collecting and enjoying every one of their albums. I finally saw them in concert in late 1998, but the venue was so oversized that it was like watching a flea circus. Plus, lead singer Dave Gahan had just gotten off heroin and had chunked up as a result. I left the Sky Dome disappointed and forgot about Depeche Mode for a while. The following album, "Exciter" (2001), made it easy.

Then, last December, Depeche Mode came to town. The post-concert reviews made me gnash my teeth and tear at my hair at the lost opportunity. I vowed that, if given another chance, I would give Depeche Mode my money.

Then in March, it was announced that Depeche Mode would be returning to Toronto. Without a second thought, my friends and I started strategizing how to obtain pre-sale tickets. Cost be damned! 7 minutes and $100 later, I was satiated.

After the purchase, I didn't give the concert much thought, right up to the day of the event. "The concert is tonight? You must be excited!" a co-worker exclaimed. I shrugged and grunted.

At the Air Canada Centre, I was more interested in the audience than the Depeche Mode merchandise: an equal distribution of men and women, mostly people in the their late twenties and their thirties, and not an unattractive crowd. I also noticed that beer was now served in plastic cups with lids, not unlike children's sippy cups. Interesting.

Then the concert started, and I went rabid all over again. As the band went through selections from their extensive catalog, I surprised myself with still being able to sing along verbatim. Dave Gahan got down to business early on, shedding his jacket and vest to go topless. And no back fat to be seen! (Dreamy!)

Jodi Goulart of ChartAttack describes it better than I can:

"The overall mood at Depeche Mode's second arena show in the past six months in Toronto was dark, gloomy and sexually taut, and the audience fucking loved it.
"[B]y the third song, "Suffer Well," Gahan's signature stage twirls and sashays didn't seem scripted, and his bravado was palpable.
"Not only did the fans savour every guitar chord, keyboard bleep and raspy lyric, they screamed at every hip swivel, slithery strut and butt shake the frontman made. If Gahan were any more sexy, he'd explode."

One of my concert companions, who had attended the Sky Dome flea circus act with me, wholeheartedly agreed that this was a superior performance. "Not even David Bowie got the crowd going like that," he stated (anonymously, for protection against Bowie fans).

With the concert still ringing in my ears, I went home, dusted off my CD collection and listened to more Depeche Mode. It was good to taste the froth on my lips again.