For the month of October, I’m selecting a song each day from the decade that has the most meaning to me: the 80s. It was the decade that I grew up in. The period of time where I discovered my love for music — and explored many different genres. For the next 31 days, I’ll highlight a handful of songs that I truly loved and that were representative of the decade. #31DaysOf80sSongs
Let the naysayers believe what they will. But one of the greatest stretches of four consecutive studio albums belongs to the often misunderstood, often written-off Depeche Mode. Black Celebration, Music for the Masses, Violator and Songs of Faith and Devotion is the period where it all came together. A darker, edgier balance of endless hooks and eccentric treatises. I have a heart for all of those albums. But one song from Music for the Masses has always stood out to me: “Behind the Wheel”. Like most songs on the album, in defiance it wasn’t written for the masses at all.
Forget the innuendos. And set aside the “Route 66” medley version. When you examine the purity of its mood and instrumentation, few tracks defined the Depeche Mode sound better than the original album version of “Behind the Wheel”. It pulls you in not by being catchy. Rather it grabs you with this unexplainable darkness. Gore’s desolate guitar riffs were the fuel. Fletcher’s menacing keyboard bass line was the engine. Wilder’s eerie synth interludes, the driver. And Gahan’s ominous vocal delivery, the passenger. It was a case of the whole being far greater than the sum of its parts.
“You behind the wheel and me the passenger. Drive, I'm yours to keep.”