Erasure - The Innocents' Secret

“Oooh… do we not sail on the ship of fools?”

Erasure, the bane and delight of both audiences and critics, sideshow phenomena yet true-blooded artists. It's hard to pin a label on them or find them a stable place in the digital age: synthesizer wizards or jukebox flashes-in-the-pan? Dancefloor conjurers or old disco-music glories, the kind only good for revival season at best? Plenty of resounding hits but also flops, blunders, accusations of frivolity and oddities of every kind. Let's put it this way: the years obviously take their toll, and the downward arc seems to have set in for a while now even for a duo this sparkling and apparently unsinkable — but if numbers mean anything, then four decades of music ridden hard, more than twenty-five million records sold worldwide and a string of top-class singles make Vince Clarke and Andy Bell two genuine institutions of British electropop, and quite simply one of the longest-running and most prolific pairings of the Eighties.

Vince and His Brothers

The band officially formed in London in 1985, but never more than in this case is it necessary to step back in time and dig to the roots to uncover its truest origins. We're in South Woodford, Essex, a county in eastern England. Vincent John Martin "Vince" Clarke was born here on 3 July 1960, though he spent his childhood a few miles away in Basildon, where, still a boy, he enrolled in music school and took piano and violin lessons alongside his brothers: skills that would come in handy around the age of fifteen, when he began writing his first songs. His great passion, however, was synthesizers: he was struck by seminal bands such as Omd and Human League (the former in particular, cited as his greatest source of inspiration), but also by Daniel Miller and Fad Gadget (other pioneers of the genre, who would later find themselves label-mates on the same Mute Records roster). So, having set aside the adolescent ambitions that saw him play guitar and sing in short-lived bands, toward the end of the '70s he made up his mind and got acquainted with his favorite toy, keyboards of every kind and format. Piano, synth, organ, it made little difference: it was the point of no return for an intense and rewarding career, one that would see him rise to the status of a master of the field, becoming within a few years one of its internationally recognized leaders. But let's take things in order...

Not long after finishing high school, Clarke began attending afternoon gatherings of the Youth Fellowship run by Kevin Walker, three years his senior, at the parish church in Basildon, where together with the kids they sang gospel songs; in the evenings, instead, they would gather at Clarke's flat to strum out cheerful, melodic religious ditties (in the folk-acoustic style of Simon & Garfunkel, to give you an idea), which were also broadcast by a small local radio station and taken around to neighborhood churches, colleges and open-air festivals in mini-sets of around forty minutes each.

Kev & Vince (sometimes also Nathan, after the title of one of their songs) remained active from 1976 to '79, when Vince had the urge to change course, intrigued by the new possibilities offered by electronics. Kevin, however, didn't like the idea and chose to carry on with his honest path as a preacher and carpenter (relations stayed good, though later on they'd clash over the genesis of some Yazoo songs, "Only You" above all), while in May of that same year Clarke brought back his old schoolmate Andrew Fletcher (on bass), with whom he founded No Romance In China, this time with a decidedly more rock-oriented approach (Police and Cure were among the main influences; both were great admirers of Robert Smith and were won over by the release of "Three Imaginary Boys"). Pete Hobbs on drums and Sue Paget on guitar rounded out a line-up that dissolved within a few weeks but still managed to write a small piece of history, given that we're talking, in embryo, about the future Depeche Mode.

The gestation of this embryo was turbulent and multifaceted, and at first was fed by the addition of the talented Martin Gore, a skilled and promising multi-instrumentalist (he'd previously sung and played guitar in Norman And The Worms) who at the time was manning the keyboards for French Look, an all-synthesizer trio whose ranks also included Robert Marlow, another close friend of the group and especially of Clarke, so much so that the two of them, around the same time, put together a side project called The Plan (it came to nothing, but they'd get another shot at it in 1983 with the release of four singles as an appendix to the album "The Peter Pan Effect").

It was a time of great change for Vince Martin (as he styled himself back then), finally free to sharpen his weapons and pick up his favorite tool. "We were after a sound à la Ultravox and we were bound by a great friendship," says Marlow of the The Plan interlude and his relationship with Clarke. "The use of synthesizers also encouraged our growth and allowed for creative evolution compared to our previous habits. We really liked John Foxx; tracks like 'The Man Who Dies Everyday' or 'Saturday Night In The City Of Dead' can only be achieved that way." But while Robert could ask his mother to buy him a brand new one, Vince had to work hard just to afford a barely decent Kawai 100F, so in his spare time he made do however he could. "The whole thing fascinated me a lot, Rob was the first person I knew who owned a Korg 700," Clarke recalls, adding: "Maybe today I'd still be a factory worker at some Ford plant, who knows, or a driver going up and down the roads of Essex, but then things like Gary Numan's 'Are Friends Electric?' or 'The Pleasure Principle' came along and we were all captivated. I, for one, really loved Omd's 'Electricity' and especially its b-side 'Almost' — both gave off something new, modern and intriguing, and it only took two fingers to create fantastic melodies. I thought it would be foolish not to give it a try, and with the money I'd saved up I managed to buy a synth all of my own."

Whole days spent on the sofa writing keyboard riffs or programming sequencers: it was the autumn of 1979, and Composition Of Sound were born from the ashes of No Romance in China, laid to rest a few months earlier by Clarke and Fletcher, who now decided to bring Martin Gore on board full-time.

Martin Gore bought a synth, so we got him in the band because he had a keyboard. Then we decided that we couldn’t play guitar – we were crap at it – but we could get away with playing synthesizers, because you only need two fingers.

(Vince Clarke)

Two keyboards, a bass and the inevitable drum machine: equipped this way, the trio was well set up and didn't feel the need for a frontman at all costs; but fate was knocking at the door, and it arrived in April 1980, when the band went to rehearse at the Woodlands Youth Club without Gore for the occasion. That Wednesday evening, in fact, Martin was busy playing with his other band, French Look, in a small room right next door in the same building, and they'd brought along, acting as a sort of sound engineer, a friend of theirs who liked fiddling with knobs, turning volumes up and down and the like — one David Gahan, who, during a break from the jam session, grabbed the microphone and caught everyone off guard by improvising David Bowie's "Heroes". A few yards away, in the corridor next door, Clarke was secretly eavesdropping and sensed that the boy's voice could be just what his Composition Of Sound needed, so a week later he called him in for a brief audition. "We suggested a few songs to warm up with, a couple of originals written by me which he honestly didn't sing very well, while he felt completely at ease singing Bryan Ferry's 'Virginia Plain', which he already knew well since he was a diehard Roxy Music fan."

Rebellious and provocative, Gahan had the makings of a frontman and joined the group, which at that point banned every traditional acoustic instrument in favor of sophisticated equipment in line with the new trends. A few more months went by, and on the singer's suggestion the band renamed itself Depeche Mode, a trendier name that would go down in history.

Some Bizzare...

With their new and this time definitive name (inspired by a French magazine of the same name), the fledgling quartet made their debut on 24 September 1980 at the Bridge House in London as the opening act for Comsat Angels. Fifteen pounds was the fee, and "Photographic" was the title of the track that went on to enrich the "Some Bizzare Album", a compilation/showcase for future synth-pop icons such as Blancmange, B-Movie, Soft Cell and The The. And of course Depeche Mode too, who, signed by Mute Records boss Daniel Miller, released a re-edit of the track on their debut studio album "Speak And Spell", released in October '81 and driven by the singles "Dreaming Of Me", "New Life" and "Just Can't Get Enough", all written by Vince Clarke, who at just twenty years old had already become one of the most renowned specialists in the field and the chief architect of the band's takeoff. His stamp is clearly evident on the rest of the tracklist too, with the exception of a couple of tracks ("Big Muff" and "Tora! Tora! Tora!") credited to Gore, who would pick up the baton once Clarke departed.

The album's unexpected success in fact demanded a long and grueling promotional run, at the end of which Clarke seemed far from convinced about life on the road and about his bandmates' artistic ambitions, who were keen to experiment with darker, more atmospheric sounds. "I don't remember exactly why I decided to leave," he says bluntly, "I followed my instinct, it's part of the game, but I don't regret it. A lot of people ask me whether I had any idea how huge Depeche Mode would become... What can I say, I've been lucky in my career, and that's fine by me," concludes the tireless Vince without a hint of regret, who didn't sit around idle and within a few months was back in action with Yazoo, a duo that for a couple of years would enjoy enormous success, thanks in no small part to the powerful performances of Alison Moyet, a warm, bluesy-rooted singer with dynamite in her vocal cords.

Their debut "Upstairs At Eric's" (1982) and the following "You And Me Both" (July 1983) landed at number two and number one respectively on the UK album charts, buoyed by instant classics such as "Don't Go", "Only You", "Situation" and "Nobody's Diary", all skillfully crafted by Clarke according to a well-tested formula that had also defined, for instance, "Speak And Spell" just months earlier — namely, catchy uptempo melodies set over surefire dance beats.

Outside the recording studio, however, the relationship between the two was practically nonexistent, and the odd couple split up: Moyet then set off on a hugely successful solo career, while Vince promptly called on his longtime collaborator Eric Radcliffe, the expert sound engineer who had played such a big part in the success of their previous productions (the title "Upstairs At Eric's" refers directly to his Blackwings Studios, where the album had been finished).

The new team produced a single release, the excellent "Never Never", which reached number four on the UK charts, featuring ex-Undertones singer Feargal Sharkey on vocals and "Clem" Clempson on electric guitar, along with its B-side "Stop/Start", an instrumental showcase of fine stylistic judgment that brought this moniker to a close and, more broadly, closed out this eventful first phase of Clarke's career.

41, Andy Bell, Erasure

Singer wanted by songwriter.

(Melody Maker, 1985)

Meanwhile, in Peterborough, Northamptonshire, Andrew "Ivan" Bell (born April 25, 1964) comes from a completely different background, but is nonetheless trying to make his way. The eldest of six children, his mother is only seventeen when she gives birth to him, his father nineteen. He grows up in the residential area of Dogsthorpe, where his birth family still lives today, and joins the choir at Infants And Junior School right away, developing a taste for singing from a very young age. "There was a raging punk wave going on in town, and I tried to fit in, but I had too soft a character, a result of a strict upbringing. I used to hang around the gigs but I didn't like the violence - I often got beaten up because I was used to playing with my sisters, so my manners ended up pretty effeminate too. Unfortunately there wasn't much else for teenagers to do besides getting drunk or fighting, and it was really hard for us gay kids to find any space except round the back of the Bull Hotel - that's where I met Jill's brother (Jill being his best friend, ed.), who used to go to the night clubs in London, and together we decided to move there."

As soon as he comes of age, then, he tries his luck in the capital, where for a while he scrapes by as a butcher's assistant at Sainsbury's Market, and later at Debenhams as a travelling saleswoman's-shoe peddler. The posters on his bedroom wall feature Tourists, Japan, Siouxsie and Blondie; as for him, he first cuts his teeth for a few weeks in Void, then forms Das Baume (German for "the trees") with his bass-playing friend Pierre Cope, and gets to grips with the local pub-rock scene (later they'll change the name to Dinger, which, for obvious reasons, is Bell's nickname, meaning "doorbell").

They release the single "Air Of Mystery", but Andy dreams big, with legitimate ambitions, and when his date with history arrives he's not caught unprepared. Around the same time, Clarke is finalising his professional divorce from Alison Moyet and setting off in search of possible replacements, so he places a small ad in the music magazine Melody Maker.

The Eighties circus

"Songwriter seeks singer" - reads the ad - and the auditions get underway: dozens of candidates are turned down, but the forty-first is the one, since Bell's supple, versatile alto voice fits perfectly with what the former Yazoo man has in mind, tired as he is of treading hit-and-run paths and drawn instead to something more solid and lasting. Erasure are born almost by chance: Clarke's original plan was in fact for a personal solo work with a different voice on each track, but the blond vocalist from Peterborough talks him round mid-stream, pitching him instead on a duo. The chemistry between the two is immediate, and it sparks a partnership of rare longevity and effectiveness.

The pair land a deal with Daniel Miller, boss of Mute Records, and set to work with producer Flood at the label's London studios. Here is where Wonderland is born, their debut album, released on June 2, 1986, preceded by three singles that nonetheless miss the mark: in order, "Who Needs Love Like That" (their absolute debut, which scrapes together a lowly 55th position on the British charts, despite the amusing clip picturing them in cowboy outfits on a mock-Western set grappling with a destructive love story), "Heavenly Action" (this time with a space/celestial setting; the enjoyable midtempo track nonetheless doesn't erase the shame of peaking at no. 100, still their lowest chart position to date) and "Oh L'Amour" (..."broke my heart/now I'm aching for you", a love lament with an a cappella opening that gets noticed in Australia, France and Germany).

For many, a flop, especially compared to the bolder sounds previously explored with Depeche Mode and Yazoo; others instead praise the innate ease with which the keyboardist keeps churning out catchy jingles that are anything but predictable. And what about Bell? His emphatic tone and androgynous charisma hint at the seeds of a possible stage animal, according to some - just a pale copy of Moyet or a bland attempt at imitation, according to his detractors. The truth, as usual, lies in between, and the tracklist runs along decently pedigreed electro lines, split evenly between playful, fast-paced numbers ("Say What" or "Reunion") and carefree lyrics predominantly about love ("Senseless", "Love Is A Loser" and "Cry So Easy" give off dance energy and an optimistic mood despite their titles; the latter credits Bell as sole songwriter, which will remain a one-off in their catalogue).

Nothing avant-garde or revolutionary, then, but thanks to the help of seasoned producer Flood (who had already worked alongside Ministry, New Order, Nick Cave and Marc Almond), the band gets a lush, polished sound, so much so that even two unfinished, rudimentary filler tracks like "Push Me, Shove Me" and "Pistol" end up being rather fun and on-trend - the first vaguely recalls Samantha Fox's "I Surrender (To The Spirit Of The Night)", the second adds Gary Barnacle on saxophone and apes the brashest, most party-minded Wham, à la "Young Guns (Go For It!)".

Closing the circle is the lovely "My Heart... So Blue", a little music-box gem that instantly becomes one of the fans' most beloved tracks (it had originally been conceived as the B-side of the single "Heavenly Action", alongside the instrumental "Don't Say No"). A footnote for "March On Down The Line", added to the tracklist only on certain reissues for the American market (originally also a b-side, but of "Oh! L'Amour").

Musically speaking, it's not a bad start, but sales languish and struggle to take off, at least until The Circus comes along to break the band's commercial deadlock. Released in Europe on March 30, 1987, it opens with a bang: the lead single "Sometimes" climbs to number two on the British charts, and the duo finally become huge at home too, where up to then they'd been met with a certain scepticism.

"We understood things were starting to turn in our favour right when 'Sometimes' came out in the UK - we used to play in tiny clubs, but from that point on there were at least seven or eight thousand people at our shows!" The video is excellent too, showing them on a rooftop, Clarke with guitar in hand and Bell writhing in the rain among rows of white sheets, while the track clearly and cleanly redefines the hallmarks of their songbook - breathless phase-distorted rhythms and an ode to falling in love, with the solo courtesy of trumpeter Guy Barker. It instantly becomes a signature tune, but not the only hit on an album (again produced by Flood) that climbs to number six and stays on the British charts for over a year (still their longevity record to date), bolstered by other heavy-hitters like the second single "It Doesn't Have To Be", which matches the success of "Sometimes" and sends the band's stock soaring, particularly within the LGBT community, for whom Erasure become standard-bearers: Bell is in fact one of the first gay artists to come out, unlike contemporaries such as Freddie Mercury or George Michael, who at the time didn't openly declare themselves. "It's true," Andy explains, "that was the norm back then, but things evolve in harmony with nature. Today things have changed drastically when it comes to marriage and civil unions. People like me, Jimmy Somerville and Holly Johnson were more honest, we fought for our rights and people appreciated it, even if in the end it's the politicians who decide."

“You are on one side and I am on the other, are we divided?”

(“It Doesn’t Have To Be”)

The taboo subject is tackled head-on across large stretches of the tracklist; "It Doesn't Have To Be" itself is a clear invitation to fully enjoy one's own instincts and live freely without fear of homophobia or other forms of discrimination, as shown by the central anti-apartheid lines, curiously written in Kiswahili “Lala pamoja na mimi/ Nyumbani yako, nyumbani yako/ Sababu wewe hapana kaa na mimi/ Nyumbani yako, nyumbani yako” (which translate roughly as “Dormi insieme a me/ Al tuo posto, a casa/ Perché non stai con me, al tuo posto”). "Hideaway" is another strong stand against prejudice, with the scene of the crime being the family home, from which a boy chooses to flee after being rejected by his relatives following an awkward coming-out (here too the lyrics are quite explicit: “Oh, my father, why don’t you talk to me now?/ Oh, my mother, do you still cry yourself to sleep?/ Are you still proud of your little boy? Don’t be afraid (be afraid)/ You don’t have to hide away”). Next come "Don't Dance" (catchy moves and a danceable groove belie the title), the more mawkish "If I Could", and "Sexuality", provocative and transgressive but not entirely successful, despite a gutsy performance from Bell, who proves himself a showman once again on "Leave Me To Bleed" and "Victim Of Love" (the third single and another Top Ten hit, built on easy, catchy synth-pop scratched by Clarke's acoustic guitar, it remains one of the most requested songs at their concerts).

A vibrant closing comes with “Spiralling” (mourning the loss of the love of a lifetime, though time will heal the wounds) and “The Circus”, an intense, moody little carousel released as the fourth single, which delves into topical social issues (the miners’ protests against pit closures and the uncertain future of the working class were hot topics at the time).

Don’t upset the teacher, though we know he lied to you

Don’t upset the preacher, he’s gonna close his eyes for you

And it’s a shame that you’re so afraid

just a worker waiting in the pouring rain

putting back the pieces of a broken dream.

Stylistically speaking, the title track (5’30 on the album, 3’50 in the radio edit) is a showcase of extraordinary flair and creativity, built on a circus-like accordion loop running throughout, further accentuated by Clarke’s acoustic guitar (legend has it he was inspired here by an old tape played backwards). Special mention goes to the instrumental “In The Hall Of The Mountain King”, an electronic reworking of a piece by Norwegian pianist Edvard Grieg, which appears only on certain CD editions of the album. The release was followed in November of the same year by the double compilation The Two Ring Circus, which offers in its first part some of the band’s biggest hits in remix form or with new orchestral arrangements, and in its second part (titled The Touring Circus) seven live bonus tracks recorded in Hamburg. At the end of these, Andy was recruited into “Ferry Aid” to record a cover of “Let It Be”, with proceeds going to the relatives of the victims of the terrible Zeebrugge ferry disaster (on 6 March 1987, a ferry that had just set sail for Dover capsized off the coast of the Belgian town; the charity project also involved, among others, Boy George, Bananarama, Mark King, Kim Wilde, Nick Kamen, Doctor And The Medics and Mark Knopfler). This and other non-profit initiatives typical of the era (in 1990 came the Cole Porter tribute album “Red Hot + Blue”, a fundraising collection to which Erasure contributed “Too Darn Hot”; in 1991 they stood alongside Lene Lovich on “Tame Yourself” with the track “Rage” for a Peta campaign in support of animal rights) only boosted the appeal of the artists involved, and Andy and Vince were no exception – and for anyone expecting further confirmation, it duly arrived within a few months.

A Little Respect

It’s all about the melody. You can’t make things better in the studio without having a fancy melody, I don’t think.

(Vince Clarke)

It’s often said that for a band the third album is the real test, and with The Innocents (1988) Erasure pass it with flying colours. For the occasion the pair enlisted American producer Stephen Hague, who had already worked with Malcolm McLaren, Pet Shop Boys, Omd, New Order and Communards, and the choice proved a winning one. The seasoned Maine-born producer builds on the good work sown during the Flood era, tweaking just a couple of details – enough to sculpt a sound that, if anything, is even bolder and more carefree. The result is a string of era-defining hits, chief among them of course “A Little Respect”, a chart-smashing bomb and one of the most representative songs of the entire Eighties (a devastating one-two of keyboard hook and chorus that leaves no escape).

I’m so in love with you, I’ll be forever blue

That you gimme no reason

Why you make-a-me work so hard

That you gimme no, that you gimme no,

that you gimme no, that you gimme no

Soul, I hear you calling, oh baby please

Give a little respect to me

Written jointly by Vince Clarke and Andy Bell, it is still considered the band’s biggest hit to date, debuting in September 1988 at number four in the UK (fourteenth on the Billboard Hot 100), while the album itself shot straight to number one and went double platinum. But there's far more to the story than just “A Little Respect”: with five million copies sold worldwide, The Innocents is the album that, more than any other, fuelled the band’s rise, restoring their credibility on an international scale. The duo now attained full-blown superstar status and consolidated their standing, stringing together from this point on an enviable run of triumphs (24 consecutive top-20 hits between 1986 and 1997) with disarming ease, starting with the irresistible “Chains Of Love”, released on 30 May 1988, which marked their breakthrough in the United States: it’s one of the brightest examples of the Erasure sound, branded with their trademark analogue, dance-oriented textures and Bell’s lyrics (his falsetto in fine form), which allude none too subtly to a longing for greater acceptance of same-sex couples (his frustration is clear from the anguished, autobiographical opening lines “How can I explain when there are few words that I can choose/ How can I explain when words get broken”, before dissolving into a promise: “Come to me, cover me, hold me… together we’ll break these chains of love”). The chorus is bolstered by backing vocalists Naomi Osborne and Caron Wheeler, British soul singers and former Afrodiziac members who, alongside session singer Jane Ayre, also lend their voices to the joyous “Yahoo!”, a lively, gospel-tinged party number that steers clear of the Devil’s perils and celebrates the glory of God (the same positive-energy, good-vibes spirit radiates from “Witch In The Ditch” and “Weight Of The World”).

If “Imagination” is a lively, exuberant slice of synth-pop, then “Phantom Bride” is even more so – another cornerstone of their output, telling the story of a lonely girl’s battle against her own fears until the arrival of a man in her life instills faith in existence: it would have made a fine single, but the lovely “Ship Of Fools”, the true masterpiece of the album, was chosen instead, and rightly so. This, in fact, was the first single taken from the record: a poignant, melancholy ballad with lyrics steeped in deep despair and frustration, framed by a vocal performance moving enough to bring tears to the eyes (Bell’s warm, husky register contrasts with his more usual falsetto, but underlines the versatility of his voice).

“Hallowed Ground” delivers some of the band’s most compelling lyrics – an indictment of society’s carelessness, delivered with depth but without despair – and eases up on the pace a little; “Heart Of Stone” promptly revives the energy thanks to the drive of the Kick Horns’ brass section, adding further pleasure to the listen.

Worth noting, finally, is the enjoyable, near-instrumental interlude “Sixty-Five Thousand” and the two B-sides of “Ship Of Fools”: “When I Needed You” and “River Deep, Mountain High”, a cover of an old 1966 Ike and Tina Turner song, both of which appear on certain CD editions. If this isn’t perfection, it comes close, and The Innocents compiles a genuine, delightful songbook with a complete glossary of styles.

“It’s not easy to write a great pop song, but if a track is good, it’s good from the very start”, Vince states without false modesty, “a lot of Erasure melodies came out harmonious and catchy – the first chords would come together on guitar or piano in a fluid, spontaneous way, and then if something wasn’t working I’d fix it with a bit of electronic trickery; for me it was a kind of game… Andy and I understand each other perfectly – if he doesn’t like something, or vice versa, we just change it”.

In truth, there wasn’t much to change: Wild! came out in October 1989 and is once again a top-tier effort. It was preceded by a few months by the Christmas EP Crackers International (featuring a fade-ending version of “Stop!” plus the previously unreleased “The Hardest Part”, “Knocking On Your Door” and “She Won’t Be Home”), before launching the frenetic “Drama!” into orbit, released on 18 September of that same year and delivering yet another steamrolling hit. Written by both members of the duo, the song follows a rather unconventional, shifting structure compared to the band’s usual template: it begins with a low-key keyboard line and Bell’s subdued vocal, building into a sumptuous climax before exploding into the cry of “Guilty! Your shame is never ending (We are guilty! Of how we entered this life…)”, turning it into a genuine dancefloor anthem (the crowd screams were kindly provided by Jesus and Mary Chain, who happened by sheer chance to be recording in the studio next door).

Co-produced with Gareth Jones and Mark Saunders, this album too climbed straight to the top of the charts, and is probably the one most cherished by the band’s vast fanbase, thanks to the sheer number of classics on display.

The tracklist opens and closes with “Piano Song”, a delightful two-part puzzle (1.09 for the prèlude plus 3.15 of solo-piano adagio for the song proper) that frames the other singles: “Star” (“from Moscow To Mars, universe falling down”, a disco counteroffensive against nuclear war), the seductive “You Surround Me” (a passionate love song originally conceived for a James Bond soundtrack), and the poetic, graceful “Blue Savannah”, perhaps the band’s most celebrated love song, immortalised by a video that is, admittedly, a touch kitsch, shot inside a completely white room where a hand painted blue gradually brushes the same colour across the walls and the two musicians’ bodies (ending in a shower of gold-coloured leaves echoing the cover artwork by Pierre et Gilles).

In between there are some refined and experimental tracks that don't fully come off, but are still worth a second listen — "La Gloria", for instance, is a slightly clumsy foray into flamenco territory (which explains its particular resonance in Latin countries), while the quirky "2000 Miles" sketches out an energetic refrain only to go back on its word. Better are "Crown Of Thrones", a grandiloquent historical assessment of human cruelty, "How Many Times" (slower and more relaxed) and the techno trifle "Brother And Sister".

Wild! is followed by a colourful promotional tour marked by lively choreography and countless costume changes in burlesque/Village People mise — the spectacle of dressing up would prove a profitable gimmick in the years to come.

Pop! The Nineties

The new decade opens with Chorus (June 1991), their fifth studio album and third consecutive UK Number One. This time the main attraction is "Love To Hate You", a cheeky, infectious dance track that quotes "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor in its chorus, while the video portrays them on a futuristic stage set up at London's Leadenhall Market, with Andy dancing among the crowd on a walkway covered in water and Vince playing a circular keyboard similar to the ones usually used by Jean-Michel Jarre.

Dropped from the "Dick Tracy" soundtrack and replaced by their own "Looking Glass Sea", "Love To Hate You" also came in two other limited editions, "Amor y odio" for the Spanish market and "Amo odiarti" for the Italian one (with "Vitamin C" and "La la la" as b-sides). The other singles are good too: "Breath Of Life", the title track "Chorus" (a robotic anthem about environmental decay courtesy of Martyn Phillips, right in the midst of the Gulf War) and the delicate "Am I Right?", filmed on the streets of Amsterdam (with the Homomonument, the memorial to gay victims near the Westwerk, in the background). The rest of the record follows the dictates of a naive, bare-bones electro formula with an even-handed logic, one capable of pleasing and displeasing everyone in equal measure depending on your point of view — as we'll often see happen again in the band's later work.

Among the most notable tracks are "Siren Song", the forlorn "Turns The Love To Hanger", "Waiting For The Day" and "Home" (Clarke's own favourite Erasure song, by his own admission), while the insipid "Joan" and "Perfect Stranger" fare a little worse.

No matter: in June 1992 came Abba-esque, a tribute to ABBA, of whom the duo are such big fans that they even toyed with the idea of a whole tribute album to the Scandinavian band. In the end they opted for a tasty twelve-inch morsel containing just "Lay All Your Love On Me", "S.O.S.", "Take A Chance On Me" (featuring Mc Kinky on rap) and "Voulez Vous", all of which had already been performed live frequently alongside "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)", another ABBA cover that can be found among the b-sides of "Oh! L'Amour". In any case, the EP closes out this eventful first phase of their career, whose clearest summary is Pop! The First Twenty Hits, a compilation with an eloquent title that dusts off the first twenty singles in chronological order, with the addition of the 'Hamburg Mix' version of "Who Needs Love Like That".

After the greatest hits comes a brief pause for reflection, during which Clarke moves to New York, where he has by now long been living permanently in a kind of lab-bunker two floors underground in a building more than one hundred and twenty years old in the heart of Brooklyn. Here he owns one of the most varied collections of synthetic and analogue gear on the planet, a dream for vintage fetishists and newcomers alike: from Arps to Arturias, Moogs, Rolands and right down to Leipzig S sequencers, there's something for every need. During this period he trains as a DJ alongside his brother Mick and takes on remix commissions, reworking "Ascend" for Nitzer Ebb, "Angel" for the Wolfgang Press, "I'm On My Own Way" for England's Betty Boo and "Real Love" for Scotland's The Time Frequency.

Meanwhile Bell makes his way onto the stage, throwing himself into the role of Montresor in "The Fall Of The House Of Usher", written by Peter Hammill and Judge Smith and inspired by the short story by Edgar Allan Poe.

A couple of years later the two return to the studio alongside Martyn Ware, whose collaboration proves crucial to the success of I Say, I Say, I Say, released in 1994 and widely regarded as their mature masterpiece.

⟦Q1⟧

Hold on to the night, there will be no shame

Always I wanna be with you, and make believe with you

and live in harmony, harmony oh love…

"Always" is, without question, one of Erasure's finest songs, the perfect pop tune by the perfect pop band, built on a memorable keyboard intro adorned with a celestial 17/4 chorus. Working with the former Human League and Heaven 17 member updates the duo's trademark retro sound, making it appealing to a new generation. From these foundations bloom the other two singles, "Run To The Sun" (with a video filmed at Alexanderplatz by the World Clock, where among the silver-painted dancers you can spot actor Jason Statham) and "I Love Saturday", both of which immerse the listener in the swirling, frothy waves of an indistinct electronic ocean, while the ethereal, dreamlike "Take Me Back" wakes up straight into wonderland amid floral, idyllic sighs.

Along the same lines are the flawless "Man In The Moon" and "All Through The Years". "So The Story Goes", on the other hand, is a mere formality elevated by the choir of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Closing things out are "Miracle" and "Blues Away", with their rising pulse and heavenly mood. The stuff that makes you rub your eyes in disbelief — but right at the peak of this zenith, something starts to jam...

They say the sin is self-evident (the eponymous Erasure of October 1995) — well, we'll name the sinner too: Thomas Fehlmann of the Orb, whose fingerprints are all over it, and you can tell. The album comes across as more convoluted, dark and laboured than its predecessors, with many tracks straying from the traditional format (most of them run over six minutes): it marks the first step in a gradual move away from the mainstream scene, which doesn't necessarily spell creative disaster but rather has the dry flavour of a change of gear in response to certain snobbish critics who accuse them of frivolity and repetitiveness. Nothing apocalyptic or revolutionary, mind you — just a synth-pop album sui generis, prone to atmospheric, cryptic ambient/house openings (a field in which Orbital, Underworld and the Orb themselves were the rising masters of the day).

Even though it doesn't exactly fly off the shelves, Erasure still has some standout moments, such as the mid-tempo "Stay With Me" (featuring the London Community Gospel Choir), the second single "Fingers And Thumbs (Cold Summer's Day)" (which appears in the soundtrack to the documentary film "Wigstock: The Movie") and the excellent "Rescue Me".

Undoubtedly trickier are "Angel" and "Rock Me Gently" (with Diamanda Galas as special guest, a fish out of water here). The airy "Intro: Guess I'm Feeling", "A Long Goodbye" and "Sono Luminus" resist any precise stylistic pigeonholing, but at least give Bell the chance to show off his full vocal range, while the saccharine "I Love You" and "Love The Way You Do So" bring down the curtain without taking too many risks.

Despite the album's modest commercial returns, the world tour proves to be a triumph — the live arena, after all, has always been where Erasure shine brightest. Once the run of shows wraps up, they return to the assault on the charts: 1997's Cowboy marks a gradual return to normality, settling into a light, carefree pop groove that drops the recent crossover ambitions and other self-sabotaging experiments, winning over critics, audience and label alike in one stroke. The record is released in Europe by Mute Records and in the United States by Maverick Records, owned by their friend Madonna.

"Rain", "Worlds On Fire" (a surefire radio-friendly tune), "In My Arms" (pop/rock in the vein of Manic Street Preachers) and "Don't Say Your Love Is Killing Me" (typical melodic, dancefloor-ready uptempo cadences) prove to be effective restorative therapy, with the mannered, syrupy "Boy" and "Love Affair" as negligible side effects. "Save Me Darling" is stunning (high-emotion verses and a surgically precise chorus), while "Precious" and "Reach Out" could use some reworking, still languishing in quarantine despite titles with a distinct Depeche Mode ring to them (the latter even echoes a riff from "See You"). Finally, the covers of Blondie's "Rapture" and Burt Bacharach's "Magic Moments" are served up as bonus tracks.

Another cycle, another tour, followed by a three-and-a-half-year break during which Clarke dabbles in ambient diversions ("The Clarke And Ware Experiment", founded with Martyn Ware, which produced "Pretentious") and disco (he and Phil Creswick of Big Fun team up as Family Fantastic, releasing the LPs "...Nice!" and "Wonderful"), before taking back the reins of a band in the midst of artistic convalescence. The risk of relapse is averted by Loveboat, released in 2000, which ferries Erasure into the new millennium.

Hits! The 2000s

Back in the pilot's seat is Flood, who steers the ship toward acoustic territory — hardly the band's natural habitat — yet somehow manages to drag them free of the shoals of a dangerous creative crisis. The launch of the ship is entrusted to the single "Freedom", and reports from on board are mixed: on one hand, the album remains to this day their most spectacular commercial flop (even panned by the label, which pulled it from the market for "lack of hit singles"), while on the other, critics seem to rather enjoy the new lo-fi guitar direction and the low-slung sounds of "Where In The World" or the r'n'b tones of "Cryin' In The Rain".

"Perchance To Dream" is remarkably varied and intricate: the double bass and percussion are a surprise, underscoring Vince's musical eclecticism, while the lyrics, rich in evasive images and metaphors, confirm Bell's songwriting chops, still on fine form on "Love Is The Rage" and "Alien", whereas "Moon And The Sky" struts a little too much on techno-futuristic flourishes (Jason Creasey at the console). "Surreal" is a little gem, while it's a shame that "Mad As We Are" and "Here In My Heart" only half work (pretentious and messy despite good intentions). "Catch 22" is one to listen to again and again, a hidden, underrated technicolor jewel.

2003 is a time for taking stock — after all, the band's twentieth anniversary is almost upon them, and what better way to mark it than by engaging with other artists' work? So in January comes Other People's Songs, initially conceived as a solo project for Andy Bell, before Vince got drawn in too and turned it into the group's tenth album (produced by Gareth Jones). The tracks respond well to the Erasure treatment: Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill", for instance, becomes a majestic, lush overture, as does "Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime" (a cover of the Korgis classic that loses none of its charm) and "When Will I See You Again" (a cover of American female vocal trio The Three Degrees, complete with a clangorous, metallic middle-eight). Somewhat underwhelming is "True Love Waits", which reinterprets the Buddy Holly classic as a simple, basic waltz, while "Goodnight" (by folksinger Cliff Eberhardt) fares decidedly better, as does the superb "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'" by Phil Spector.

"Can't Help Falling In Love" and "Ebb Tide" do their homework without straying too far from the originals (by Elvis Presley and the Righteous Brothers, respectively), while "Video Killed The Radio Star" disappoints: a bare-bones, idea-free reworking of the Buggles original that oddly stumbles on its own home turf.

In October of that same year, EMI, eager to capitalize fully on the duo's artistic legacy, immediately launches Hits! The Very Best Of Erasure — compared to its 1992 predecessor Pop! The First 20 Hits, it brings with it eleven more years of experience and a handful of extra tracks, split across two discs, "Disc One" and "Erasure Megamix".

The real news, however, is Bell's HIV-positive status, which he reveals to the press, stating that he contracted the virus six years earlier in Majorca, where he was living at the time with his longtime partner-manager Paul J. Hickey (also HIV-positive, who died on 4 April 2012 from complications related to the illness; among other things, he authored the biography "Sometimes – A Life Of Love, Loss And Erasure", describing their relationship of over twenty years).

The shock announcement comes just hours before Nightbird, released on 24 January 2005 to moderate success. Opinions on it are once again divided: despite its modest number twenty-seven chart peak, critics seem satisfied with a twilit, perceptive work, while longtime fans instead praise its return to sounds reminiscent of the Wonderland/Chorus! era. These are the first new songs in five years, and Bell's comments invite listeners to view them in a different light: the intimate, melancholy lyrics reflect the singer's state of mind at the moment of a discovery that, in truth, doesn't seem to rattle him all that much. "People often talk nonsense and spread psychological scare tactics about this subject," Andy explains calmly, facing the progression of his condition without undue alarm. "Being HIV-positive doesn't mean having AIDS — with the right precautions, my life expectancy could be the same as anyone else's. I realized something was wrong after a bout of pneumonia, and I've been on combination therapy ever since" (also treating the vascular necrosis he's suffered from for years) "and I'm doing much better — I've never felt so good, which is why I'm running an awareness campaign aimed at young people, so they can prevent or, if necessary, fight the virus sensibly and without misplaced hysteria," concludes the vocalist, who has also left behind a long battle with cocaine addiction, overcome thanks to his passion for music, darts (he proudly keeps some trophies won by his parents, both champions of the sport) and reiki, a chiropractic technique he's long used as a method of self-healing.

Returning to Nightbird, the album delivers moments of unexpected beauty, especially the first single "Breathe" (imaginative and stirring, it's their highest chart peak since "Always", and fully deserved), the opener "No Doubt" (a whirlwind of emotion over a lavish, evocative pseudo-gospel backdrop) and "Here I Go Impossible Again" (first in a run of tracks curiously united by rather long titles), which feeds on gentle electronic lines and multi-layered vocals.

No proclamations of rebirth here, to be clear, nor any glitter or rubbery rhythms — but purists of a dreamlike, crystalline black celebration of darkwave unease will be satisfied, finding two of its finest expressions in the ballads "I Broke It All In Two" and "Because Our Love Is Real". "Don't Say You Love Me" is more immediately appealing, with flashes of doo-wop. Closing things out in style are "Let's Take One More Rocket To The Moon", "I Bet You're Mad At Me" and "Sweet Surrender" (a digression on the Iraq war that, despite its wartime subject matter, lands on a euphoric, infectious chorus).

The cover artwork, the work of British graphic designer Rob Ryan, is eye-catching.

At this point the two take a breather, and Bell seizes the chance to finish recording his solo debut Electric Blue, released on 3 October 2005 on Sanctuary Records and promoted in European and North American night-clubs. It contains fourteen tracks written and produced in collaboration with the electronic duo Manhattan Clique (aka "MHC", namely Philip Larsen and Chris Smith), already behind the mixing desk for Moby, B-52's, Stereophonics, Fischerspooner and Goldfrapp, and it serves up an intriguing disco-cool blend with a Moroder flavour, elevated by a couple of illustrious guest appearances: Claudia Bruecken of Propaganda ("Love Oneself" and "Delicious") and Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters ("I Thought It Was You"), whose presence isn't a nostalgia trip but a happy meeting of fellow eighties lovers.

The first single "Crazy" is a decent calling card (remixes courtesy of friend Clarke, King Roc and Cicada), a cut above "Jealous", "Caught In A Spin" and "Shaking My Soul" (restrained neo-gospel in B-52's dress).

The album reaches a respectable No. 12 on the Billboard Top Electronic Albums chart, after which Andy puts himself back at the duo's disposal. Erasure's up-and-down run of records continues with Union Street (2006), and this time it's a forgettable outing — but only chart-wise: although it misses the Top 100 (!), the record still offers an interesting cross-section of the band's history through eleven acoustic reworkings of lesser-known songs recast in a country-western key, among which sturdy, energetic tribal percussion (see "Boy"), "Stay With Me" (woodwinds by David Weiss) and "Tenderest Moments" (the only track featuring Vince on the mic) are the best snapshots.

Also working well in context are "Love Affair" (violins and cello by Antoine Silverman), "How Many Times?" (Steve Welsh on guitar) and "Rock Me Gently" (touching performances and starry pathos), while the restylings of "Piano Song" and "Blues Away" raise eyebrows, which is why 2007 brings the definitive U-turn back to the electronic comfort zone.

Signals of Light from the End of the World: Our Years

Light At The End Of The World, however, only partly repays the effort: it's announced on 26 January by Andy and Vince via a video message on the band's official website, then released in May of the same year, first in Japan (with the bonus track "I Like It"), then in the UK and finally in the United States. The kick-off track "I Could Fall In Love With You" scores decent results thanks to a powerful, enticing melodic bridge and lyrics that are sugary to say the least (there's an alternate version of the video made after an appeal asking fans to send in photos of themselves and their loved ones caught falling in love, edited together with footage of Andy and Vince); "Sucker For Love", on the other hand, is exuberant and cheeky, even if its Commodore 64-style backing doesn't quite suit its rave ambitions.

"How My Eyes Adore You" winks at trip-hop, while "Darlene" and "Golden Heart" are more subdued, still a good vocal springboard for Andy, who suddenly turns wistful and pensive again on "Storm In A Teacup" and "When A Lover Leaves You", the album's most mature tracks, both rooted in autobiography (referencing his mother's struggles with alcoholism and the breakup with boyfriend Paul). "I Don't Know Why" is a mixed bag, while the grim "Glass Angel" deserves a special mention — an epic, menacing sonic catharsis and perhaps the only track on Light At The End Of The World that truly stands out on the record's résumé.

Some time later comes Non-Stop (June 2010), Bell's second solo effort, this time with the help of Belgian musician Pascal Gabriel (who had already worked alongside Kylie and Dannii Minogue, S-Express, Sophie Ellis-Bextor and Ladyhawke, and had remixed Erasure's "It Doesn't Have To Be"). In the producer's French studios come up-to-the-minute electro-fashion ideas, such as the Debbie Harry tribute track "DHDQ" (standing for Debbie Harry Drag Queen) or "Honey If You Love Him That's All That Matters" (recorded in Los Angeles with Perry Farrell of Jane's Addiction). Worth reassessing are "Call Me" and "Say What You Want" (colourful arrangements with a cappella inserts), while "Running Out" and "Will You Be There" deserve a separate mention, having already been released months earlier under the pseudonym Mimò (a tribute to his friend Tomeu Mimò, later changed to a plain "Andy Bell" to settle a dispute over the use of the name).

Meanwhile Vince isn't sitting idle either, teaming up with old friend/foe Alison Moyet for a series of Yazoo reunion shows (the "Reconnected Tour"), after which he goes back into the studio with his partner to record Tomorrow's World (2011), polished between London, New York and the Maine studios (owned by Clarke) under the supervision of Frankmusic and Rob Orton (fresh off some successful remixes for Lady Gaga and Pet Shop Boys). The first single "When I Start To (Break It All Down)" gets heavy rotation on BBC Radio 2 during the Ken Bruce Show and gains a certain notoriety thanks to its lavish, elaborate arrangement (pulsing strings, Melodyne and flute-like synths) and vocal swoops reminiscent of "Goodbye Stranger" (all of it perhaps a touch too much, given that it never budges from No. 172 on the UK charts; the original demo tape, "Tender", was loosely inspired by Elvis Presley's "Love Me Tender", while the instrumental b-side "Tomorrow's World" had been conceived as the theme for the BBC series of the same name) — unlike the other singles, "Fill Us With Fire" and "Be With You", which are thin and half-hearted in construction (nor are they redeemed by the ill-advised Europop flourishes with which, around the same time, many fallen stars were trying to revive their fortunes, often with laughably dismal results).

"Just When I Thought It Was Ending" and "Whole Lotta Love Run Riot" pile on the sentimentality with no side effects, which is still better than the empty, forgettable "You've Got To Save Me Right Now", stuck in a stale, outdated romantic cliché. "Then I Go Twisting" tries to escape a grey, deserted city, while "I Lose Myself" and "What Will I Say When You're Gone?" flail about confusedly, closing out a muted, colourless record that nonetheless does nothing to dampen fans' enthusiasm: from Tampa to Canada to the Monumental in Lima, via the winter European leg, swarms of Erasurettes joyfully flood arenas across five continents — this Tomorrow's World Tour sells out too, testament to a visceral, unbreakable love that seals yet another live triumph for the band.

In 2012 there's room for another prestigious collaboration: "SSSS" captures Vince Clarke alongside his friend Martin Gore in the VCMG project (their initials), but the resounding pedigree is no guarantee of glory: the album falls short of expectations, amounting to a terse, perfunctory notebook of minimal exercises, material strictly for die-hard collectors (among the compendium's more interesting pages are "Zaat", "Lowly", "Flux" and "Window Robot", which at least confirm the good pedigree).

I don't believe in your religion

I only know what I can see

So many sads so many lonely

it’s only love that sets us free

(“Bells Of Love/ Isabelle’s Of Love”, 2013)

Back to Erasure: 2013 brings Snow Globe, another disheartening chapter in a particularly delicate stretch. The foray into Christmas carols (their second, fifteen years after Crackers International) is an all-too-cynical, overused shortcut that fails to hit its mark (reaching only No. 49 in the UK and No. 100 in Germany), instead driving the band into a cul-de-sac it will struggle to escape. In the nativity scene, synth-pop's former Three Wise Men are now reduced to mere ornaments; under the tree sits a limited-edition deluxe box (only 3,000 copies printed) fit for Christmas Eve dinner, containing a signed card, a red wreath for decorations, a desk calendar, red and green balloons stamped with the "Erasure" logo, window stickers, postcards, a bag of sweets and a cocktail book. Plus a CD, of course, though paradoxically it's the least dazzling part of the box set. The record tries to bridge the gap between Kraftwerk and musical medievalism, pop and sacred hymns, in a way that's illogical and disjointed, even if not everything here deserves to be tossed aside.

The promo “Gaudete” is a Latin liturgical piece dating back to the sixteenth century, found in the Finnish/Swedish collection of sacred songs “Piae Cantiones” (1581), while “In The Bleak Midwinter” lends credibility to a mediocre 1872 poem by the English writer Christina Rossetti: these are the most dignified tracks, alongside the well-wishing intro “Bells Of Love/Isabelle’s Of Love”, written entirely by Vince with the warmest wishes for his granddaughter Isabelle (despite the sleeve note claiming it to be “in memory of Paul Hickey”) and “Loving Man” (this one genuinely in memory of the boy, “I know that I can’t keep numbing out the pain…”). “Blood On The Snow” rumbles with video-game sounds (a shame the chorus falls flat), “Silver Bells” has a sweet incipit, but the pace is limp and sickly. The lullaby “Midnight Clear” (a variatio on the 1849 poem “It Came Upon A Midnight Clear” by Unitarian minister Edmund Sears) suddenly lulls the listener to sleep, who then wakes gently to the inevitable traditional tracks “Silent Night” (1818, by the Austrian Franz Gruber) and “The Christmas Song” (1945, Robert Wells and Mel Tormé).

To sum up, more than a binge, it's a modest toast to Christmas that only sharpens the duo's artistic cirrhosis, a faded stand-in for themselves, eclipsed in a solipsistic and dated forma mentis.

The Violet Flame (2014) adds little to this depressing picture; behind the scenes is Britain's Richard X, who enjoys a certain reputation as a DJ (Kelis, Rachel Stevens, Liberty X and Sugababes among those he's worked with), and he tries to relaunch the brand by shifting the focus toward trance-party atmospheres. The result is an ungainly, vulgar hybrid, whose abrasive flagship jingle is the obsessive loop of “D-D-D-D-D Dead Of Night!” on the opening track. Among the positive notes are “Promises” and “Under The Wave”, less haughty and more measured, while the singles “Sacred”, “Reason” and “Elevation” are just about acceptable, enterprising disco routines that nonetheless lack the fresh, spirited approach of newer names like Róisín Murphy, Annie, Client and the like. Somewhat off-topic are the heartfelt “Stayed A Little Late Tonight”, “Be The One” and “Smoke And Mirrors”, over which the closing credits roll.

Better to console ourselves with the fireworks: 2015 marks the band's thirtieth anniversary, and to celebrate it Mute Records decides to go big. First it makes Always: The Very Best Of Erasure available for download on various digital platforms (the only new addition being “Sometimes 2015”, produced by David Wrench and virtually identical to the original), then on 4 November 2016 it stages a closing after-party in Birmingham as a prelude to the release of From Moscow To Mars, a truly pyrotechnic opera omnia spanning twelve volumes (that's how many CDs seal the box set, which also comes with a photobook, a “space passport” and a live DVD filmed in London in 1989 during the Wild! tour). It's an A-to-Z retrospective encompassing the duo's whole life, death and miracles. Twelve CDs, as we said: the first three include virtually every single from 1985 to 2014, while the fourth and fifth are more curious, titled respectively “Andy’s Personal Favourites” (among the gems, “Here I Go Impossible Again” from Nightbird and “Miracle” from I Say I Say I Say, with Wonderland notably absent) and “Vince’s Personal Favourites” (chiefly “Cry So Easy”, “Sono Luminus” and “Home”); the sixth and seventh recover as many as 36 B-sides largely unknown to most but every bit as good as their respective A-sides; the eighth and ninth gather remixes of various kinds; the tenth (“Erasure Live!”) features live tracks recorded here and there; the eleventh is a grab-bag of demos, rarities and unreleased material; and finally there's CD 12, “A Little Respect – 30 Years Of Erasure”, an audio documentary on the band's history.

But that's not all: this delicious trip down memory lane doesn't seem to fully satisfy the pair, who in May 2017 unexpectedly spring back to life with World Be Gone, to date their seventeenth and most recent studio album. The record suddenly seems to reawaken an expressive verve that had appeared dormant: the lyrics are sharp and full of meaning. Erasure's songs had sparked debate over hot-button issues like Thatcherism or the Gulf War before, but never had they tackled an entire tracklist so decisively political; after all, the Trump presidency and Brexit are burning topics that shape everyday behaviour and feeling, and musically too the album seems to draw fresh energy from them. Not a protest album in the strict sense: the single “Love You To The Sky”, for instance, treads the romantic paths familiar to the band, while the ethereal “Be Careful What You Wish For!” is a rhythmic warning about the pitfalls of human nature. “Bitter Parting” is driven by percussion that moves to the rhythm of a heartbeat and calls for forgiveness, while “Still It’s Not Over” draws attention to gay rights (with an unsettling Moby-style piano run).

Dark and sooty are “Oh What A World” (lamenting the general political decline and hinting at dark omens) and “Lousy Sum Of Nothing”, which opens into a sinister doomsday-like ticking and stands as a desperate j'accuse against injustice in the world, public apathy and media manipulation. Simpler and more peaceable are the title track (pleading for humanity to make amends), “Sweet Summer Loving” and “Just A Little Love”, pleasant enough and never intrusive.

World Be Gone certainly doesn't catapult the audience back to the glories of their golden age, but it offers reassuring signs of recovery ahead of a future that, less than a year later (9 March 2018), is enriched by the post-classical hues of its twin album World Beyond, an orchestral re-packaging of the previous LP (the track sequence and arrangements change, but the concept stays the same), completely reimagined by the Belgian ensemble Echo Collective and crowned by a European tour alongside Robbie Williams.

Fluorescent lights: the neon saga

In 2020 comes the album that signals a return to the past right from the cover art: a neon sign above a little altar adorned with photographs and small figurines. Classic and vintage charm go hand in hand, paying tribute to Kraftwerk and even to the almost contemporary Soft Cell. With Vince's old analogue synths polished up and paired with genuinely effective melodies, the return to their origins and old sound comes in The Neon, blasted out of the stereo at exaggerated volume, with the pride and boldness of someone who knows they're holding a winning hand.

The start is immediately sparkling, with “Hey Now” leading the charge and also serving as the first single: synthetic strobe-lit rhythms, catchy melodies and up-to-date sounds, with a chorus that lodges itself in your head instantly – which is also the leit-motif of the tracks that immediately follow, “Shot A Satellite” and “Fallen Angel”. “Nerves Of Steel” is already shaping up to become a classic in the vein of “Blue Savannah”, but even when the pace slows down, as on “Tower Of Love”, “New Orizons” or the alluring “Kid You're Not Alone”, the quality of the songwriting never dips, a sign of that renewed creative spark that seemed lost back in the 2000s.

The Neon is warm music that reaches the heart, enveloping synth notes we've loved since we were kids; it's high-grade pop that wants to reach everyone. If World Be Gone was just a hint, two strong albums in a row amount to proof. Less than a year later, in August 2021, the duo decides to treat fans to an encore with The Neon Remixed. As the title suggests, the record reworks the songs from The Neon in remix form, this time entrusted to illustrious colleagues including Paul Humphreys of OMD, Octo Octa, Hifi Sean, Brixxtone and Kim Ann Foxman. There's also an unreleased track, “Secrets”, which the following October is reissued on the themed mini-album Ne:EP alongside four brand-new tracks, “Time Hearts Full Of Love”, “Same Game”, “Leaving” and “Come On Baby”. Then, in April 2022, comes The Neon Live, which captures two nights recorded at Manchester's O2 Apollo as part of “The Neon Tour” (among the tracklist gems, a tasty cover of “Love Is A Stranger” by Eurythmics).

In the summer of that same year, the saga gains a new and interesting chapter: the band's eighteenth album, Day Glo (Based On A True Story), takes advantage of the space opened up in the pandemic's aftermath, when Vince Clarke takes it upon himself to manipulate the tracks from the previous The Neon, stripping them down and reassembling them in a different key, while Andy Bell, as usual, provides the vocals, this time focusing more on effect than on words: the result is an intriguing LP full of ideas that confirms their undimmed appetite for experimentation. This isn't a simple remix job but a bold work of backup that will delight fetishists of vintage sound: ten tracks, each around three minutes long, in which the traditional roles are reversed, with warmth often radiating from the pulsing beats and coldness from the robotic, glacial spoken interjections, both elevated by an emotional quality that remains the brand's signature dish.

The menacing opener “Based On A True Story” reworks the backing track of “Tower Of Love” without entirely upending the quirky mood of the original, while “Bop Beat” cranks up the volume with stroboscopic, EBM dancefloor phrases. “Pin Prick” (built on subtle New Age scaffolding) is another standout in a tracklist whose first half grows slowly and harmoniously (the melodies of “Now” and “The Conman” recall the Yazoo of “Only You” and “I Before E Except After C” more than old-school Erasure), while the second half returns to pressing the dancefloor with the sticky, post-apocalyptic disco of “Inside Out”. “Harbour Of My Heart” and “3 Strikes And You're Out” are the most direct and closest to the standard format; finally worth savouring are “The Shape Of Things” (which for some will recall “Moments In Love” by pioneers Art Of Noise) and the paranoid lullaby “The End”, which closes a pleasant concept album with stylized music-box chimes.

Here and there: trivia and myths about Andy and Vince

Although widely regarded as one of the most important forerunners of the electronic movement, Vince Clarke has always steered clear of ambiguous posturing or diva-like behaviour, keeping a low profile and shying away from the spotlight – human qualities that make him one of the most admired figures on the pop scene. The prolific keyboardist was honoured in 2009 with the special Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Song Collection”, crowning his thirty years in the record industry. In 2013, Classic Pop magazine named him the most influential musician of the 1980s, since in a poll to determine the decade's 100 best singles, as many as four were written by him (“Just Can’t Get Enough” by Depeche Mode, “Nobody’s Diary” by Yazoo, “Sometimes” and “A Little Respect” by Erasure).

Besides his main activity with Erasure, over the years he's lent his self-taught genius to numerous side projects: among those not listed in this feature, it's worth mentioning the 1985 single "One Day" with Paul Quinn (frontman of Scottish post-punk band Bourgie Bourgie) and "Knock On Your Door" from 2001 with Radioactivators, "Lucky Bastard" (1993, a solo album with a homemade feel, collecting 94 samples crafted using the most varied synths), "Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle" from 2001 (an LP credited to Vince Clark And Martin Ware) and "The House Of Illustrious" from 2012 (again as The Clarke And Ware Experiment). It's practically impossible, on the other hand, to draw up a complete list of the endless series of remixes he's handled on commission, among the most prestigious being "Mann Gegen Mamm" (Rammstein, 2005), "No You Girls" (Franz Ferdinand, 2009), "Believer" (Goldfrapp, 2010), "Living On The Ceiling" (Blancmange, 2013) and "Bedsitter" (Soft Cell, 2018).

A separate chapter is deserved by the album "2Square", made in collaboration with Paul Hartnoll of Orbital, which launched the label Very Records, owned by Clarke himself: the "very small record label dedicated to releasing very fine electronic music" (as the header of the website puts it) aims to give exposure to the more or less promising next big things of today's electronic music (so far it has signed Alka and Reed And Caroline, as well as Clarke/Hartnoll themselves, but work is still in progress).

His long partnership alongside Andy Bell has fueled widespread urban legends claiming he's gay and allegedly his bandmate's partner: that's not the case, as Vince has in fact been married since 2004 to Tracy Hurley, co-founder of the Morbid Anatomy Museum in Brooklyn. The couple lives together with their twelve-year-old son Oscar. Andy, for his part, is romantically involved with Stephen Moss, whom he met backstage at a show at the Honey Pot in Tampa, a gay club owned by Moss, whom he then married in January 2013, just a few months after the death of Paul Hickey (the two now live happily in Miami together with their doberman Angel Baby).

Meanwhile, he tries his hand at acting with Torsten, a noir-tinged one-man show devised by playwright Barney Ashton-Bullock (music by Christopher Frost). The series has produced two concept shows, "Torsten The Bareback Saint" (2014) and "Torsten The Beautiful Libertine" (2016), which debuted at the Edinburgh festival under the artistic direction of Predrag Pajdic. The posters describe the show as "a collection of musical postcards from the memory of a semi-immortal polysexual".

Finally, a rundown of the five essential albums in Vince Clarke's musical education, without which the career of Erasure probably wouldn't have been the same:

– Genesis – "A Trick Of The Tail": "I started working at sixteen and with my small savings I bought a pretty expensive turntable, around 70 pounds… I tested it right away with that album and it was a revelation to me, it's a great fantasy record and Phil Collins plays really well".

– Simon & Garfunkel – "Bookends": "When we were at school I learned to play guitar, then I saw 'The Graduate' and bought the sheet music for 'Bookends', this album means a lot to me".

– The Cure – "Three Imaginary Boys": "Alison Moyet was still playing with the Vandals back then, and her friend Sue Paget had this record, we listened to it a lot… the first time I ever went to a festival was at Reading to see the Cure, they played a 45-minute set… it's one of those records that makes you feel alone against the world".

– Pink Floyd – "The Dark Side Of The Moon": "It's my favorite album of all time, it can't be improved on, even today it's perfection… we tried to do something similar with our own 'Erasure' in 1995, but unfortunately we didn't manage it".

– The Human League – "Travelogue": "I'd never heard anything like it before… that 1950s sci-fi atmosphere blew my mind, it was like dreaming… it was a hugely important push for me in terms of sonic exploration".

His one unfulfilled wish, instead, is to play with Philip Glass: "If anyone reading this could pass along my phone number…". We'll see.

Contributions by Mauro Caproni ("The Neon")

With love to Eugenia, without whom this feature (and pretty much everything else…) would not have been possible.

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