depeche-mode

FLASHBACK FRIDAY: Depeche Mode “Songs Of Faith And Devotion”

I’m on a train.

I’ve got a four-seater to myself. I stare out the window as the trains chugs across the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I’m listening to Walking In My Shoes, the second track on Depeche Mode’s Songs Of Faith And Devotion.

I’m seventeen years old and in my final year of high school.

I’m on the way to see Daniel, my first real boyfriend. He lived around the Hills District in North Sydney. His parents were more lax than mine, so we spent all our time there. The train takes an hour each way. For three or four months, Songs Of Faith And Devotion was the soundtrack to that journey. A ritual, a habit.

In retrospect, the impact of this album has been strange and fluid. Much of the meaning it held back then stemmed simply from that ritual. I would switch trains at Central Station, I would put on the album, and off we’d go.

Now, it holds a full range of personal messages and meanings, relevant and relatable in more ways than I care to count.

This album spoke to me about Faith and Devotion to another, but over time it’s become about Faith in myself and Devotion to myself.

So, there’s two stories here. One is the story of this album then; the other is this album now.

Then – the other

Daniel was my first proper boyfriend and the first person I experienced real, deep emotion, and real, deep hurt over. Only after we broke up (he kissed another girl about five months later) did we discuss that we think we thought we had maybe stumbled upon that feeling that begins with an L.

I endlessly associate this album with that train. That train was a gift, a full hour to myself both there and back; a haven, when you’re seventeen and experiencing those feelings for the very firs time. Contemplativeness, analysis, desire, reflection. This album was the perfect soundtrack, lyrically and musically.

Like I said, the correlation between this album and relationships is an overall feeling. But there were certainly some lyrical moments that cemented its importance for me.

Opening track I Feel You is driving and heavy, with a seductive rhythm and sexually suggestive lyrics.

“I feel you, your sun, it shines.
I feel you within my mind.
You take me there, you take me where the kingdom comes.
You take me to, and lead me through Babylon.
This is the morning of our love.
It’s just the dawning of our love.”

In Your Room perhaps reminds me the most of those times in Daniel’s bedroom. Musically, it’s daunting and ominous. Lyrically, it’s incredibly intense. It’s manic, and it feels hyperbolic, but it’s not. As the song moves along, the lyrics also grow more intimate and physical.

“In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will…

“In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here…

“I’m hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin…”

I recall those first couple weeks with crystal clarity. August 2006. We stayed up for an entire night, just lying there, nose to nose, looking at each other. We didn’t want – no, we couldn’t sleep. We couldn’t miss a single moment of being together. I couldn’t miss an instant of being in the presence of someone who felt something real about me, and I, him.

Rush similarly describes intense emotion – indeed, faith and devotion. Rush is about bearing your soul, opening up and giving yourself completely to another person. When you’re seventeen years old, it doesn’t take long to feel that in a real way.

“Walk with me
Open your sensitive mouth
And talk to me
Hold out your delicate hands
And feel me…

“Open your sensitive mouth
Hold out your delicate hands
With such a sensitive mouth
I’m easy to see through
When I come up
When I rush
I rush for you”

Judas is an incredibly beautiful song, in which the protagonist demands that his love is only worthy to one who has suffered and worked for it. Musically, it’s the softest song on the album, a solace from the huge melodies, pounding rhythms and heavy bass lines.

“Is simplicity best, or simply the easiest?
The narrowest path, is always the holiest
So walk on barefoot for me, suffer some misery
If you want my love

“Man will survive the harshest conditions
And stay alive, through difficult decisions
So make up your mind for me, walk the line for me
If you want my love…

“You can fulfill your wildest ambitions
And I’m sure you will lose your inhibitions
So open yourself for me, risk your health for me
If you want my love”

Lyrically, this song became important at the end of our relationship. Daniel wanted to get back together a few weeks after we split, and I remember listening to Judas and that it empowered me, it prevented me from making the wrong choice. We didn’t get back together.

In the years since, I have not stuck to this mantra. I have not offered my love to only those who would walk the line and risk their health for me. Yet the message is so important, so necessary. And as the years have gone on, I’ve only realised how vital it truly is.

Now – the self

Walking In My Shoes is a dark and heavily weighted song.

“Now I’m not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes”

This song always told a deep story for me, but years later, I’ve realised that I don’t need to have led a particularly hardship-riddled life to understand or relate to those words. A simple truth of life is that my own experience and perception of literally any situation – including a relationship – is different from anyone else’s.

“I’m not looking for a clearer conscience
Peace of mind after what I’ve been through
And before we talk of any repentance
Try walking in my shoes”

“I’m not looking for a clearer conscience” is a line that’s stuck with me for a decade and it’s become more relevant as time goes on.

I had a number of relationships with other people before I could fully form one with myself. When you have a relationship with another person you tend to spotlight the positives, while shielding yourself from the negatives. Of course, discovering another’s flaws are where a relationship tends to reach a crossroads, and you either work through it, or you let it completely unravel.

It sounds simple, but a really important thing I’ve discovered about myself is that it’s okay to make the wrong decision. It’s okay to not have a clearer conscience or peace of mind at all times. I’m not looking for a clear conscience, for an apology or forgiveness.

“I’m not looking for absolution
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes…
                                         You’ll stumble in my footsteps”                                             

Thematically, Condemnation follows on from Walking In My Shoes: a person who, at this point in their life, is coming to terms with the decisions they have made, and the consequences they are facing.

“Accusations, lies
Hand me my sentence, I’ll show no repentance
I’ll suffer with pride
If for honesty, you want apologies
I don’t sympathise
If for kindness, you substitute blindness
Please open your eyes…”

While this song and its empowering lyrics were one of my favourites on that train to see Daniel, now, they ring truer than ever. Being honest doesn’t require an apology. Being accused, being condemned, does not require shame or a need for repentance. The music, the melody of this song is simply stunning. The words soar with a pain and a passion that only makes the lyrics that much more impactful.

This song is about being true to yourself. About not having to apologise or veil who you are and what you’ve done. About being your own judge and juror, and not letting another place their expectations of morality and faith onto you. To me, it’s about being faithful and devoted to yourself.

Get Right With Me is one of my favourite songs of all time. It’s one of my “happy songs.” You know what I mean, right? Those tracks where, no matter how shitty you’re feeling, how hurt or upset or just sunken you are, that song puts a smile on your face. This is that one for me. It’s a song which has had more and more layers added to it over time.

The first thing that appealed to me about this song is the music. Publicists take note – I have, and always will be a sucker for a big, staunch, echoed percussion, led by booming male vocals.

The lyrics came next.

“I will have faith in man
That is hard to understand
Show some humility
You have the ability
Get right with me

Friends, if you’ve lost your way
You will find it again some day
Come down from your pedestals
And open your mouths that’s all
Get right with me

Life is such a short thing
That I cannot comprehend
But if this life were a bought thing
There are ways I know we’d mend

People, take my advice
Already told you once, once or twice
Don’t waste your energy
Making apologies
Get right with me”

That notion – again, thematically continuous from the previous tracks – of being unapologetic about life decisions, of moving on, of faith and devotion in yourself, has become one of the most important and mindful lyrics I’ve ever heard.

I’m not big on songs that are full of hope and world peace and self-discovery, but ever since those train rides, this song has filled me with a kind of warm, fuzzy faith. It’s about faith and humility – coming down from a pedestal and being true and real to yourself and those around you.

Then, I had faith in us. I was devoted to us, to other people, to him. This album was a symbol of that dedication, of that ritual, of him, of a relationship with another.

Now, I have faith in myself. I’m devoted to myself and who I am. Depeche Mode’s album is a symbol of that discovery, of my relationship with myself.