I spent the last two days (and the last 10+ years) in a massive Depeche Mode frenzy. Bratislava on Monday, Budapest on Tuesday, pissing rain as per normal, soaking to the bones and happiness with a capital H.
Now that I can compare the fans abroad with the Hungarian devotees, I can quite confidently (and perhaps a tiny bit smugly) say that we, Magyars, are something of a world-class audience. We could really bring out all there was to the band unlike our Slovakian colleagues. To put it bluntly, the gig in Bratislava was like a rehearsal for the concert in Budapest. Even though Depeche Mode did everything they could to move the crowd, and there wasn’t nearly as many technical screw-ups as in B-town, nothing could wake up the Slovakians from their apparent coma. All right, the rain was a lot heavier there, it felt like being watered with an industrial-sized hose-pipe, which, trust me on this, felt rotten in the freezing June night. But as it had always rained at the last couple of Mode gigs, it could be no excuse.
But enough of Bratislava, the gig in Budapest was a miracle of a smaller kind. Zagar, as the warm-up act, did their best to get us in the mood, and apart from the embarrassing ‘Wings of Love’, they weren’t bad at all. Then after an idle half-hour, Depeche Mode came on stage and we all started to scream (out of pure love, you see). It didn’t really kick off with a bang, it was quite reserved in the beginning, with a couple of the new songs which didn’t really move any of us, but then came the classics and we started to rave. Dave (Gahan, for those not in the know) really started to live on the stage with all our favorite hip-moves and mike-stand twirls. Andy, though completely out of rhythm, made us clap and shout even louder. There were kisses blown in both directions, along with all the usual Depeche Mode gig essentials we just can’t get enough of, all enhanced by the visuals of the ingenious Anton Corbijn. Then we chilled with Martin singing ‘Jezebel’ and ‘Question of Lust’, which rather unexpectedly turned out to be one of the best and without a doubt the most intimate part of the whole gig – except for those who used the time to grab some more beer (fortunately, they’d changed the set-list since Bratislava). Then we rocked on, though there were some uninspired bits and the rain also got heavier, and our two hours of joy came to an end. June 23rd wasn’t the best ever Depeche Mode concert in town, but it was no short of magic. After a crap album and with the brilliant (the best in the world, to be honest) front man still recovering from an operation, Depeche Mode is still the greatest band in the world. In my world at least.
Aranka Szabó