Fad Gadget - Between Theatre and New Wave

Fad Gadget, or if you prefer, the dark moon of Frank Tovey. His alter ego. Like day and night. Hailed and celebrated as an unconventional, avant-garde artist, eclectic and bizarre, pop and experimental, brilliant and transgressive, a death that seized him suddenly and far too soon. For the few, but not for everyone.

Francis John Tovey was born in London in 1963, but it was only after moving to Leeds as a young man that he forged the incredible persona who would soon become one of the most influential pioneers of electronic new wave.

First stop, Metropolitan University, also known colloquially as the Polytechnic (where the celebrated firm of Almond/Ball also cuts its teeth before becoming Soft Cell). It's here that, barely out of adolescence, he decides his future will be in the arts regardless: street performer, theatre, cabaret, it doesn't matter which, as long as he's performing. Music, his true passion since childhood, is set aside for the time being. During his school years, obsessed with the idea of Iggy, Bowie and Bolan, he had also tried taking guitar lessons, without much success. In truth he feels insecure, hopeless with any instrument, and doesn't even like the sound of his own voice. The Polytechnic thus becomes an almost obligatory choice. The years spent in Leeds, studying visual arts, acting and mime, will nonetheless prove fundamental to his development, along with the teachings of the master Lindsay Kemp.

We're almost at the end of the 1970s, and the widespread, low-cost availability of electronic equipment makes it possible to compose music even for those with no technical training whatsoever. A new attitudinal approach, one that would soon become absolutely standard across new bands in England and beyond.

"I saw electronic music become more punk than punk: you didn't need to learn any chords, you just had to hit the keyboard and some interesting sound would immediately come out" (Daniel Miller, 2013).

It therefore comes almost naturally to Frank to enrich his first naive, unpolished theatrical pieces with musical accompaniment. An old, suitably modified Grundig tape recorder, a small Korg drum machine and a modest electric piano serve the purpose perfectly. Back in London, he settles into a council house, sharing with others. He takes possession of a small built-in wardrobe where he shuts himself away during the day with his "toys", beginning to compose some music.

One of these early experiments would become one of the finest tracks of his first period, "The Box", whose title already evokes that claustrophobic, almost airless environment in which he sketched out his first ideas. The songs that would later make up the first album date back to this period, although at this stage they are, of course, very basic, almost embryonic demos. It's also time to come up with a stage name, a moniker that can grab attention: the choice falls on Fad Gadget, simple and catchy because it brings to mind a supermarket product.

His flatmate Edwin Pouncey, a music journalist and future comic actor (he would become famous as Savage Pencil), is struck by the early, bizarre performances and by the music coming out of the wardrobe, influenced by everything being listened to in the house: Kraftwerk, the Bowie records belonging to Frank's girlfriend, and the single by The Normal.

The previous year, in fact, an unknown Daniel Miller, armed with nothing but a synthesizer and a drum machine, recorded a 7-inch that would go down in the history of English music. The single, featuring the tracks "Warm Leatherette/TVOD", released in October 1978 under the pseudonym The Normal, immediately gains huge visibility on the alternative circuit. And naturally, demos and cassette tapes start arriving at Miller's house by the truckload, sent by bands, or would-be bands, who mistakenly imagine him to be running some record label.

Daniel, already showing a sharp business instinct at the time, and not only a musical one, decides to wait for the right profile to come along before starting a collaboration and, why not, founding a label. The opportunity is provided by Pouncey himself, who speaks enthusiastically to him about what he's heard and glimpsed seeping out of the wardrobe where it all happens. After listening to a couple of demos at the Rough Trade offices, brought there by Frank himself, Miller immediately understands that this tall, good-looking, gentle, shy young man is exactly what he's looking for.

In July 1979, Fad Gadget — and this is history — becomes the first artist to sign to Mute Records. At RMS Studios the duo immediately record the single "Back To Nature", a superb, darkly tinged track, with an intro built from synth oscillations mimicking birdsong, and a relentless, monotone industrial-style rhythm in the vein of "Warm Leatherette". The track, which pokes fun at people wanting to return to nature while insisting on bringing along every possible home comfort, instantly becomes a cult classic of the indie electronic scene.

Sales figures are not yet spectacular (it comes within a whisker of the top 40), but it certainly holds its own alongside other great singles of the period, also coming from independent labels. Take, for example, "Being Boiled" by Human League, "Nag Nag Nag" by Cabaret Voltaire, or "Hot On The Heels Of Love" by Throbbing Gristle. Rounding it all off, a beautiful black-and-white sleeve featuring Frank nude, shot from behind, photographed by his girlfriend Barbara Frost.

In the weeks surrounding the release of "Back To Nature", a handful of dates are also organised. The very first concert under the name Fad Gadget takes place on 18 July at the Moonlight Club, where the Monochrome Set also play the same evening. The response is rather modest, and not only due to the small turnout. The main problem is that, alone on stage, he's forced to stay still and quiet behind a synth, moving at most to trigger the backing tapes. No chance to interact with the audience, then, which for him is tantamount to being caged. He therefore decides to form a live band with two Belgian guys, Jean Marc Lederman and Philip Wauquaire, who take care of the synthesizers, leaving him free to move about the stage as he pleases. And that's how those memorable performances that would make history begin to take shape.

Given the artist's still limited ability to make the most of recording studio opportunities, Miller acts as guide, producer, musician and almost an older brother. He's always at the controls on "Ricky's Hand", the second single, which hits the shops at the start of 1980. A hint of slowed-down melody at the opening (which returns in the chorus) gives way to an insistent, tight electronic rhythm, interwoven with a hypnotic bass line. A perfect fusion of industrial atmospheres, punctuated even by a Black & Decker drill, sealing a striking track that's ironic and theatrical in its lyrics too (a kind of sarcastic warning against drink-driving).

The single's sleeve, depicting a hand being burned — complete with smoke rising upward — by beer spilling out of a glass, is a clear example of the slightly naive genuineness of this early "militant" period, but also of Mute's desire to present itself as a genuinely innovative and alternative label, including in its visual and communicative style.

At that time, the fledgling Depeche Mode are starting out, paying their dues in the small clubs of outer London, and it's in one of these, the Bridgehouse in Canning Town, that Miller, there working the mixing desk for a Gadget concert, sees them in action for the first time. Gore and co. are the opening act for the more famous artist, who for them — especially for Dave Gahan — is a genuine idol. There's even a date for it, 12 November 1980, and the poster for the evening can still be found online. But that's another story.

While waiting for the Mode's career to take off in full splendour, the synergy between Miller and Fad is by now total, and the latter happily lends himself to playing the part of Darryl, the imaginary singer of an equally imaginary group, Silicon Teens. Nothing more than a clever musical/commercial operation steered by Miller alone, who literally conjures up an album of 1950s/60s rock'n'roll songs rearranged in a new, carefree, danceable techno-pop guise.

"Music For Parties" (the title says it all) is important above all because it's the first LP ever pressed and released by Mute. The lead single, "Memphis Tennessee", does well on the UK indie charts, and a video is also shot for it, set in a hypothetical Titanic function room, where Fad appears alongside a long-haired, practically unrecognisable Miller, even though the latter actually had no part in making the record and, as already mentioned, the vocals are his.

The time has now come to try his hand at the long format, and so Frank heads into Blackwing Studios, in south London, to record his debut album. The studio, used throughout the 80s by virtually every Mute artist, had been scouted out by Miller, who was looking for a big, easily workable space to set up his synthesizers. He's backed by a top-notch team, led by Miller himself alongside collaborators John Fryer and Eric Radcliffe, both ever-present on the early Depeche Mode and Yazoo records too. It's a lineup so tried-and-tested in its structure and division of labour that you could list it like a football team: London, Blackwing, Miller, Fryer, Radcliffe, Mute and so on, adding in whichever artist happens to be up next.

Fireside Favourites comes out on 1 October 1980, and naturally features musical ideas already tried out on the first two singles. Spare, syncopated electronics, driven by synthetic rhythms and, on some tracks, by more traditional instruments like bass, guitar and acoustic drums. Notes and sounds wrapped in a cold, glacial atmosphere, a kind of minimal electrowave with industrial streaks and a punk attitude toward machines that has by now been fully honed.

But the approach remains quite different from that of other artists he's compared to, for instance Cabaret Voltaire, Human League, Ultravox and John Foxx, Gary Numan. These are times when everyone is competing to look as cold and stiff as possible behind their machines, as Kraftwerk had taught.

But for Gadget, it's not like that. Technology is perfectly suited to his role as a one man band and lets him make the music he loves, but coming from acting and cabaret he needs physical contact with the audience, he lives to perform, he treats the stage like a battlefield. He's more of an Iggy Pop of the underground circuit, a full-blown stage animal who finds release in the most theatrical ways possible. It's no accident that the album's sleeve shows him in close-up, shirt open, microphone in hand, eyes wild. Nothing could be further from the aseptic light of "Metamatic" or the robotic chill of "The Pleasure Principle".

Fireside Favourites hints at real potential, including as a songwriter, even if it doesn't offer major melodic openings, and only brushes up against the musical synthesis the artist has in mind, one that will mature on later records. He opts not to include the two previous, attention-grabbing singles on the tracklist, and credit is genuinely due for that consistency.

A certain underlying pessimism prevails, along with a fairly marked distrust of the human race, with lyrics that dwell on unease, on society's obsession with the automobile ("Pedestrian") and on the tedium of relationships common to his generation ("Coitus Interruptus").

Some tracks are almost a theatrical experiment, a sort of decadent, slightly sinister cabaret, poking fun at Mormons ("Salt Lake City Sunday") or describing the world through the eyes of a fly ("Insecticide"). The title track (minus the final s, though) is also a single, with an almost swaying rhythm and sounds that resemble the swing of a car horn blaring over and over, its lyrics using a romantic conquest as a pretext to tackle the theme of nuclear dread. Definitely an excellent track, but perhaps not the ideal choice for a first single.

Great attention is paid to Nick Cash's drumming, combined with electronic percussion, which on some tracks, for instance "State Of The Nation" and "Coitus Interruptus" - also among the standout songs - produces an almost funky, syncopated groove. "Newsreel", with its near-noise sounds and rhythms, edges close to some of Numan's work from the Tubeway Army period, "The Box" appears here in an alternate version (unfortunately less punchy) than the one used as the B-side of the "Back To Nature" 7-inch, and it's also one of the very first songs the artist wrote in his famous walk-in cupboard. Closing things out is "Arch Of The Aorta", a gorgeous instrumental with looped backing vocals that reproduce a dialogue between doctors and a patient. Given the title, it's almost a sinister omen.

With the album's release, the fun truly begins. Namely, the first continental tour, playing small clubs when things go well, and basements and pubs most of the time. His onstage behaviour grows ever more transgressive, dangerous, pushed to the point of self-harm: diving into the front rows, climbing the scaffolding of whatever venue he's in, these are by now par for the course, as is tearing out his own hair and pubic hair. And then there's more: sharp blades used as razors, shaving foam smeared over face and body (he always keeps a can in his pocket), the long mic cable used as a blunt weapon, wrapped round his neck and used to strike his own forehead. Blood, scrapes, black eyes and bruises everywhere.

During a London show he splits his head open trying to play an electronic pad with it; stitched up with dozens of stitches at Charing Cross Hospital, he's back on stage shortly after, head bandaged and still bleeding, dressed in a white coat.

A few years later he'll tear the tendons in both legs trying to jump down the steps during a show at the Paradiso in Amsterdam. And despite it all, crawling along the floor, he manages to make his way back onto the stage through a gap and finish the show! That's Fad - whereas in private life, according to musicians, friends and collaborators, Frank is the most humble, gentle and easygoing person you could ever meet.

In March 1981 a new double single is released, "Make Room/Lady Shave". It's the last time Miller actively takes part in studio work, preferring from then on to devote all his time to Depeche Mode. The A-side is more conventional, close in feel to Fireside Favourites, while "Lady Shave", with pads and electronic percussion accompanying and embellishing the cold, martial tread of the synths, quickly becomes a live staple and a favourite on alternative dancefloors too. Frank's voice is at its peak here, shifting between sensuality and schizophrenia, raw screams and seductive lines.

A few months later comes the second album, Incontinent, which, starting with the title alone, is clearly not an easy listen, with very little commercial ambition; the melodies and catchy riffs that will only arrive on the next record are still missing. The gorgeous sleeve is the work of Anton Corbijn (marking the start of his collaboration with Gadget here), and depicts the artist dressed and made up as Punch, the famous character from the Punch & Judy puppet theatre. And if it's true that a cover often does nothing more than foreshadow an album's contents, here that rule is borne out by a distinctly theatrical atmosphere running through the record's nine tracks. The constant back-and-forth between Europe and America, with exhausting, far from comfortable travel between one show and the next, causes a dangerous break in his mental balance, resulting in a record that's often noisy and chant-like in feel, less energetic and much sparer in its arrangements.

Fewer industrial sounds compared to Fireside Favourites, more muffled electronics and heavier use of traditional instruments (some quite bizarre, like the jaw harp and accordion), with female backing vocals and near-tribal percussion scattered throughout. Only on a handful of tracks, including "Swallow It", the second single "King Of The Flies" and closer "Plain Clothes", do we find the more wave, and therefore more "traditional", side of Gadget, while opener "Saturday Night Special", with lyrics devoted to violence and gun ownership within American families (a subject that, incidentally, couldn't be more topical), is a kind of decadent, melancholy slow number in an acoustic key, with vaguely Eastern atmospheres. Certainly not the ideal track to send to radio to promote the new album. There are a full three instrumentals: "Incontinent", a convincing minimal-electro sketch, and "Manual Dexterity" and "Diminished Responsibility", both almost purely noise-driven pieces.

Overall, a less successful effort than the debut album. The musical formula taking shape here does nothing more than anticipate what Depeche Mode will do, with far greater visibility and success, starting with "Construction Time Again". That is, essentially a pop framework dressed as needed in electronic, more classical, or noise-based clothing. Experimental in any case.

He's the one who first introduces the most disparate samples, from electric razors to the Black & Decker drill, passing through sounds of nature, glass bottles and metal objects to be struck, even before Einstürzende Neubauten.

1981 also sees the collaboration with Boyd Rice, better known as NON, master of noise and a great experimenter in sound-as-noise, which results in an album credited jointly to Tovey/Rice (curiously, Frank doesn't use his moniker here). Instrumental suites titled "Extraction 1-12", hardly easy listening, as the ironic title makes clear: Easy Listening For The Hard Of Hearing.

It's Frank himself who wants a more abstract and experimental record, while Rice would have preferred something closer to pop. In any case, what we get is twelve small noise experiments created by "playing" with machines: any object in the studio capable of making noise is sampled and ends up on the record. Which, incidentally, won't be released until three years later, again on Mute. In 1985 the two will perform the material in a few contemporary art institutes and galleries, but without stirring much interest from critics or audiences.

Without even taking the customary sabbatical year, Fad enters the studio in early 1982, again at Blackwing, trimming down the number of collaborators and relying solely on John Fryer for production. The result will be his most accomplished record, the most electronic and the most political: Under The Flag, a majestic album in which classy techno-pop and innovative drive coexist happily, with a newfound desire to reach a wider audience. The social and political edge of the album is evident right from the title and the cover, once again the work of Corbijn: this time the artist is shown in profile, a completely black silhouette against a white background, holding what looks like an imaginary flag. Good old Anton will remember it almost 35 years later for the artwork of Depeche Mode's "Spirit".

A more accessible record than its predecessors, then, full of creative ideas and effective melodies, enriched by a few gems that will endure over time. The first-time use of the Roland MC-4 MicroComposer sequencer helps him in composing the tracks, and the album sounds magnificent, fresh and still relevant today. The female backing vocals increase in presence, with the notable contribution of Alison Moyet, still (though not for much longer) the voice of Yazoo, as well as Barbara Frost, who in the meantime has become his wife.

Two circumstances decisively influence the work: the Falklands War between Britain and Argentina, which he strongly opposed, and the birth of his first daughter. The lyrics are of course steeped in these events, with references to the ongoing conflict, to poverty, to social tensions and to the Conservatives' repressive measures. A perfect snapshot of England in 1982, under the Thatcher government. And, here too, ahead of other bands that would later hurl their own barbs at the Tory leader: Depeche Mode, obviously, but also Test Department and, in a different musical context, Paul Weller's Style Council.

The intro "Under The Flag I", placed at the opening, makes clear in a matter of seconds what the mood of the record will be: sequencer and drum machine calling the shots, with surgical synth riffs opening up the melodies, and a stern, monotone voice, almost chanted like a litany, stitching it all together. The following "Scapegoat" and especially "Love Parasite", another classic single with its hypnotic bass line, move within these same coordinates, with sudden inserts of lullabies and children's voices in the background.

"Plainsong" is in fact an a cappella song, held together almost entirely by voices and choruses, which take the place of the music in a crescendo of pathos and emotion. But it's only a brief moment: the record immediately picks up the bpm again with "Wheels Of Fortune", a fine blend of pop and wave with sax embellishing the melody, choruses and falsetto voices everywhere.

"Life On The Line" is the synth-pop song par excellence, introduced by a highly effective riff that carries the whole track, verse and chorus as the genre's trademark. And indeed it's chosen as the single preceding the album, anticipating its sound, and it will even make a brief appearance in the British charts.

This brings us to one of the record's highlights, "The Sheep Look Up", which starts out minimal, bare, slow and austere, and gradually builds up with choruses, sounds and percussion, right up to its majestic, dreamlike orchestral finale. "Cipher" is an introspective, nocturnal and melancholy journey, paced by stern piano notes (you can almost hear the darker Yazoo of "Winter Kills"), "For Whom The Bells Toll", with percussion and distorted synthetic sounds carrying the rhythm, is chosen as the third single, and the whole thing closes where it began, with a reprise of the opening track: a different vocal line, almost spoken word, over a similar backing.

Curiously, that same year sees the release of a 45rpm single featuring a track left off the album, namely "I Discover Love", probably because of its lighter, pure-pop sound with soul leanings, which make it closer to certain Motown material, in the vein of some Soft Cell tracks.

The promotional tour, cut short by the Amsterdam incident, gives him more time to gather his thoughts and make some significant changes. The following album, Gag, which won't see the light of day until 1984, is in fact also the first record born of true collective band work, with the musicians carrying more weight than in the past, even contributing to the writing of the lyrics.

Not only that: it's also decided to record the album away from London, specifically at Hansa Studios in Berlin, a charismatic and in some ways mysterious city because of the Wall, as well as a nerve center of musical styles and trends. The heart, in short, of an old Europe not yet united.

Electronics aren't abandoned, but the creative process is now centred more on the concept of the band. In this, Fad proves, as usual, original and against the grain. He had been among the first to use synthesizers, back when they weren't yet cool, and now that the trend has spread everywhere, infecting not just pop, he opts for a sudden swerve towards a more full-blooded sound, almost rock-like in its execution. The obsessive electronic textures of Under The Flag thus give way to a greater presence of guitars and other acoustic instruments. The arrangements amplify and highlight the artist's vocal and theatrical gifts, and more than once he's invited as a special guest at iconic venues. For instance, at the Royal Albert Hall, where he plays two nights running with Siouxsie & The Banshees.

A major factor in Gag is the influence of Einstürzende Neubauten, who are recording at Hansa in the same period, in the next room. Fad falls in love with them when they open his show at the Loft, armed with a pneumatic drill with which they literally tear up the club's floor. The bizarre objects they use on stage to make music are a formidable attraction, and they suggest a similar approach to him. In particular, his attention is drawn to an old printing press located on the ground floor of the large apartment where the band is staying. Running, the printing machine produces a catchy rhythm on loop, so studio engineer Gareth Jones is asked to sample it, with additional drum and percussion parts obtained by hitting half-full bottles. The resulting sound becomes the basis of "Collapsing New People", the majestic single released in late '83. Probably a peak he would never surpass again. Euphoric and satisfied with the result, Gadget asks the German band to work on a remix of the track. The Berlin Mix comes out on the single's 12" and features some variations, additional percussion and a different mix.

The song's title, too, is clearly influenced by Blixa Bargeld and company. In English, in fact, "Einstürzende Neubauten" translates as "collapsing new buildings". The lyrics, meanwhile, are a metaphor for Berlin's youth, always imagined as being on the verge of collapse due to their devotion to drug and alcohol abuse.

The album comes out a few months later, with a sleeve that stands as the true masterpiece among all the work Anton Corbijn did for the artist. The photo shows him in a decidedly theatrical pose, tongue out, naked and covered in dirt and feathers.

Once again, the intro of "Ideal World" (whose title is perhaps no accident) is enough to tell where things are heading, with drums and bass leading the rhythm section and the synths reduced to an ornamental, no longer central role. The vocals follow suit too, the voice aggressive, at times hoarse, pained, used as an instrument.

A few more intimate moments still serve as a link to the past, with music boxes and the obligatory choirs and children's voices ("Sleep"), as do lighter tracks like "Speak To Me" and the second single "One's Man Meat", which can be seen in a more traditional pop-rock light. The finale moves between the ethereal, dreamlike atmosphere of "The Ring" and the long violin outro of "Ad Nauseam", which officially closes the Fad Gadget era.

From now on, in fact, the artist decides to present himself to the public under his real name. In England, Fad Gadget has by now built a solid underground reputation and gets placed on the alternative charts despite feeling, at bottom, like a pop artist. Convinced he can't change this perception, he prefers to shed a label that, deep down, no longer represents him, or doesn't represent him fully anymore.

The fear of becoming repetitive also plays a part. He becomes aware that he has by now tried everything possible in the electronic field, and this will push him, over time, toward a more traditional sound, while still keeping his experimental attitude intact.

In truth, the shift to this new phase isn't traumatic at all, but happens very gradually.

In 1986, Mute releases an official singles compilation, and after the side-project interlude of MKultra alongside visual artists Malcolm Poynter and Simon Stringer, which yields a single industrial-dance 7" ("Immobilise"), the debut under the name Tovey arrives with Snakes And Ladders, where Frank recasts himself as a born-again spaghetti-western gunslinger (as he appears on the sleeve), ready to fire away at false respectability and the self-satisfied lust of the bourgeois classes. We're in Saint Tropez territory, basically: yachts and diamonds, cocaine and champagne.

The album is thoroughly enjoyable: a fresh, light synth-pop, but without the explosive force, experimentation and lucid madness found instead in the works released under the Gadget name. The intent here is openly mainstream, namely to try to reach a wider audience and, above all, crack the American market. "Luxury", the lead single, seems built for the purpose: a classically styled, seductive track that unfolds through a highly effective opening synth arpeggio/riff and a sensual, catchy melody, perfect to serve as a calling card. In the studio, it's the old team at work: Daniel Miller and Eric Radcliffe are there, joined by sound engineer Flood, at the start of a bright career that will later see him working with U2 and Depeche Mode.

"The Cutting Edge", the opener, is a perfect mix of percussion, acoustic guitar incursions and electronic sounds. The title track rolls along fast like an old West Coast train, but it's above all "Shot In The Dark", with background whistling and an O.K. Corral atmosphere capped by a long, majestic synthetic finale, that represents one of the album's peaks. Like Morricone meeting electropop. The second single, "Luddite Joe", is also enjoyable, a nervy, psychotic pop song that pokes fun at people's obsession with technology, a love-hate relationship that has been a constant throughout Tovey's career.

Despite everything turning out quite enjoyable in the end, and despite "Luxury", the operation never takes off, because the record is too easy for old fans and at the same time too alternative for the mainstream crowd. The flop will convince Frank to head in a completely different direction from then on, with no further regard for any music-business logic.

A precious testimony to his nervousness at the time toward anything mainstream can be found in a mimed performance on a German TV show (the YouTube video is on this page), recorded outdoors, where Frank, apparently calm and in control, suddenly snaps, throwing all the equipment to the ground and hurling the synths toward the stunned audience, before being forcibly dragged away by the show's crew.

After a year of silence, 1988 brings Civilian, which can truly be seen as the start of a new chapter. Three people come together to work at Sawmills Studios in London: Frank, Mark Jeffery, who plays drums and percussion throughout the record and also contributes to the lyrics on some tracks, and producer Rico Conning, a new signing to the Mute roster who the following year will work alongside Martin Gore on his "Counterfeit EP". A deliberately low-profile, almost homemade album, with an anonymous sleeve and little marketing, as if the artist had planned a soft, low-key return. The big new development is the single "Bridge St. Shuffle", a modern-folk song complete with distortion and pedal effects, about a TV format where people commit suicide. The video, shot in black and white in a London suburb, shows the protagonist on top of a moving truck singing and playing banjo, accompanied by a drummer beating out a rhythm.

In truth, the song is rather misleading, since Civilian is anything but a folk record. With electronics absent, what remains is an obsessive attention to rhythm, present in force on every track (it's no coincidence that the only other musician involved is a drummer). It's a kind of urban alternative rock, at times nervy and jagged, at other times lighter with pop overtones, but in the end few of the songs really stick. Among them is "From City To The Isle Of Gods", a downtempo piece with almost Eastern arrangements and a great deal of percussion work (at times it even recalls Japan's Tin Drum).

Mute pressed a promo remix of “The Brootherood” (evidently it had originally been conceived as a single), with a new electro arrangement that heightens its power and its long outro. Either way, one of the album's standout tracks. There's a palpable tension, with sinister sounds and a dark, dilated atmosphere in “Diana” and “Unknown Civilian” (buoyed by a great intro and more ethereal instrumental passages), before the stark, tribal close of “Disperate Dan”, carried almost entirely by drums and percussion.

The real breakthrough, or rather the definitive transformation, comes instead with Tyranny And The Hired Hand in 1989, a record of social protest made up of covers (of the tracks on the tracklist, in fact, only “Midwife Song” is his own) and recorded in little more than ten days, or so the liner notes claim. A total, uncompromising dive into folk, played entirely acoustically with mandolins, banjo, accordion, pedal steel guitar, harmonica, viola, fretless bass and piano. A handful of songs drawn from American and English tradition (for instance, the single “Sam Hall”, a track also covered by Johnny Cash), protest songs against “the rich, the greedy, the usurers and the starvers of men, may the devil take them all!” (from “Money Cravin' Folks”).

Musically speaking, and only musically, “Men Of Good Fortune” sticks out like a foreign body: a splendid Lou Reed portrait from “Berlin”, revisited here in a remarkably faithful version. Its lyrics, dealing with cynicism and wealth in a world with no room for justice or fairness, actually fit perfectly with the themes running through the album. The same goes for Dylan's “North Country Blues”, though here, if we may say so, the singing is a world apart from the slurred, monotone vocal lines of the American guru.

Tyranny And The Hired Hand is just an appetizer, because the goal is to make a record truly his own, with similar but less extreme sonorities. To that end, he doesn't hesitate to team up with The Pyros, an Irish folk group based in London, going into the studio with them to record a jointly credited album. A partnership that would carry on into live shows and the following record too.

Grand Union is an autobiographical record, drawing on its author's musical and personal life. Having noticed that the places dearest to him — Mute's legendary offices on Arrow Road, say, and the recording studio too — as well as the musicians and collaborators, all shared the common thread of being located near the Grand Union, the canal running through the whole of London, Tovey wrote ten “geographical” pieces on acoustic guitar, then left the band completely free rein when it came to the arrangements.

An unusual method, but one that lends the music real freshness and, above all, lifts off his shoulders all the pressure that came with being the one to decide everything single-handedly. As recounted in interviews from the time, two different worlds converge here. Thanks to the Pyros, the artist moves further toward folk, while in turn the band, during the recording process, takes on the electric traits it had previously lacked, having only ever worked acoustically within a bluegrass framework.

In the studio, Frank is described as a volcano of ideas, always ready to experiment despite the fact that machines and electronics are, by this point, merely a memory. For the occasion, a distinctive 5-string electric banjo was even built, with a dirty, very rock'n'roll sound, used in the solos and throughout every track on the album.

The question is whether, in this guise, the artist can still appeal to the audience that followed him as Fad Gadget. The leap is enormous, as we've seen, even if the transition was a long one. In truth, as an artist who has always refused to pigeonhole his own music, pushing off in other directions feels entirely natural to him. In the end, the songs always remain the focus, however they're dressed up.

And there are plenty of fine songs on Grand Union. Starting with that little gem “Cities Of The Plain”, an elegant midtempo with a seductive, melancholy atmosphere. And, again, what we have here is a crossover between classic Celtic atmospheres and more traditional pop-rock, which makes the record enjoyable even for listeners coming from a more alternative background — provided they can listen without prejudice.

The video for the title-track single was shot on a farm on the Isle of Dogs, a horseshoe-shaped area in East London near Greenwich, bordered on three sides by the Thames. The album cover uses a photo taken at the same location, with a glass tower block looming in the background as a counterpoint to the bucolic image of the artist on horseback — echoing the theme of property speculation in one of London's poorest areas, where Frank lived as a child.

On the subsequent promotional tour around Europe, the new material was played alongside, surprisingly, a few tracks from the wave era (“Back To Nature” and “Ricky's Hand”, for instance), suitably rearranged.

The second chapter of the collaboration with The Pyros (the Irish band having added drummer Laurence Doherty in the meantime) followed close behind the next year. Surprisingly, they opted to return to the legendary Blackwing Studios — the last time had been back in 1983, for the recording of “Under The Flag” — and veteran keyboardist Dave Simmonds was also brought back into the fold. Call it coincidence if you like, but it clearly brought good luck, because Worried Me In Second-Half Suite is without doubt the most accomplished album ever released under the Tovey name. But the surprises don't end there: of the eleven tracks that make it up, there's barely a trace of folk to speak of.

Here we're on the tracks of a particularly inspired rock record, clothing effective, never-banal melodies in blues-tinged shades, rich with atmospheres that shift between acoustic and electric. Take, for example, the title track that closes the album: it opens delicately, with acoustic accompaniment and smooth vocals, before veering into heavier territory, in a triumph of distortion and fading pedal effects. A structure also used for the opener “Chasing The Blues Away”, another standout track.

And what of the single “All That Is Mine” (a perfect choice), balanced between a deliciously pop verse and a chorus leaning toward rock?

There are no lesser tracks here, only fine songs that would shine in any guise. It's no accident that a couple of them, strikingly rearranged in an electronic key, would make it into the setlists of the 2001/2002 shows.

Frank is fantastic in the role, with a deep, tormented and, as usual, theatrical voice that reaches its interpretive peak on the slow "Only Doing Your Job", where it almost feels like listening to Nick Cave and his Seeds. He plays the seasoned crooner on the sped-up blues of "Crow's Nest Blues" and on the more classic blues of "Opportunity's Knocking", embellished with delicate piano touches, is poetic and seductive on "You Won't Get That From Me" and Dylanesque on the slow "Doing Time".

And speaking of Dylan, who at this stage is an explicit, acknowledged influence (witness the cover included on "Tyranny"), the album's sleeve depicts our hero in a pose bearing a physical resemblance that's genuinely jaw-dropping.

After the tour for Worried Me In Second-Half Suite in 1993, once the Pyros experience was over, everything crystallized. There's no confirmation as to whether it was boredom with making records, a dip in inspiration, or perhaps dissatisfaction with the reception given to his last few works. The fact remains that Frank disappears completely from view for almost eight years, during which he busies himself with living life (op. cit.), and occasionally composes music for minor theatre productions at the request of director Michael Vale, an old friend and schoolmate. One in particular is set in a pigsty, and when he's sent the audio file of the pigs' grunting, he manipulates the sound to turn it into almost human screams, folding it all into the soundtrack "A Place With The Pigs" (a detail revealed by the director himself in the retrospective we'll discuss shortly).

Through a mutual friend, the Austrian band Temple X sends him a demo, and given his reaction, they invite him to produce their debut album. He happily accepts, offers up a song he'd written earlier and kept in a drawer, produces the record and handles the mixing. Guess where the album is recorded? At Blackwings, of course.

The flame slowly reignites, fuelled by the band's invitation to join them on stage at the first opportunity. At the end of November 2000, in the middle of a Temple X concert on German soil, he gets up on stage and sings three songs, including "Ricky's Hand".

It all happens in a flash — he barely has time to land at Heathrow before he's contacted by a promoter who wants him as headliner at the Elektrofest, scheduled for 15 April 2001 at the Mean Fiddler in London. And so it is that Frank, in a grand coup de théâtre, becomes Fad again. The old live tracks still work brilliantly, and twenty years on, the energy and power remain intact.

Both Miller and Gore and Fletcher attend the show, and at that point, the idea comes naturally to Mute and to Depeche Mode themselves: celebrate one of their founding fathers by inviting him to open the shows on the upcoming Exciter Tour.

The label also decides to release a new remastered double compilation, featuring singles, remixes and a few extended versions. For the cover, they use a beautiful photo that Anton Corbijn had taken in the dark of a hotel room in Liverpool, back in 1981, with Frank completely covered in shaving foam, motionless and resembling some bizarre sculpture.

From then on, events follow one another at a breathtaking pace: the European arena tour as special guest of Depeche Mode, with Temple X in tow, invitations to European festivals for the following summer, a tour of Japan and America in the works, and the writing of material for a new album under the Fad Gadget name.

In Italy, the Exciter Tour shows in Milan and Bologna are the first and last to host one of his performances, and watching him at the end of a blistering set bounce happily towards the backstage to the closing notes of "Coitus Interruptus", no one could possibly imagine what would happen shortly after.

In the first months of 2002, there's another sold-out show at the Garage in London, and finally the show at the Sama Festival in Gothenburg, Sweden, on 30 March. The setlist, alongside the classic tracks, also revives a couple of songs from his last record under the Tovey name, namely "Worried Men" and "Chasing The Blues Away", brought back to life with a sublime new electro arrangement (the entire Gothenburg concert is available on YouTube, in soundboard quality).

Everything is exciting, the enthusiasm contagious, and his career once again poised to take off. And yet the end comes: sudden, unexpected and as cruel as they come. Just four days after the concert on Swedish soil, Frank dies at his home in London of a heart attack at only 45 years old, with a life — not just a musical one — still ahead of him.

A statement from Mute on 5 April, two days after his death, officially announces the news. In its own way, seen cynically, it's the squaring of a circle, the closing of a beautiful story that began with Depeche Mode opening for him — a band that would go on to become famous — and that ends, by some twist of fate, with them returning the favour. Sadly, without any happy ending.

It's an immense tragedy, not only for his family, friends and longtime collaborators. The label loses one of its most iconic and representative artists, and for Miller it's almost like losing a brother. There's dismay and grief among labelmates too, Depeche Mode first and foremost of course, and among all the bands who over the years came to see Frank as a lasting influence and point of reference.

The following year, at the family's request, the idea takes shape to celebrate him with an opera omnia spanning over twenty years of recording career. With Miller's blessing, dozens upon dozens of VHS tapes, unreleased recordings and all the material that could be restored and subsequently released are retrieved from the Mute archives and those of several European TV networks.

After a couple of years of work, the result is the moving retrospective Frank Tovey By Fad Gadget, made up of 2 CDs and 2 DVDs containing hours and hours of footage and music. The remastered audio also covers the singles (and the best tracks too) from the Tovey phase left out of the two previous compilations, and includes a previously unreleased track ("Sleeper"), the first demos recorded in the legendary cupboard at the West Kensington house in London and rediscovered on an old cassette tape, a tribute song by Temple X, and of course fans' top 5 picks.

The real gems, though, are found on the DVDs, and it could hardly be otherwise. It opens with the documentary on the artist, with Italian subtitles, directed by his daughter Morgan and featuring home videos and footage of everyday life, interviews, studio shots, and concert clips. He is remembered, with anecdotes, personal reflections and real emotion, by Daniel Miller, Dave Gahan, Martin Gore, Boyd Rice, Anton Corbijn, longtime collaborators Nick Cash and Dave Simmonds, Temple X, the Pyros, journalist Paul Morley, filmmaker friend Michael Vale, and Edwin Pouncey.

Then there are the promo videos for the singles released under the Tovey name, lip-synced TV appearances - and therefore gloriously theatrical - from the Gadget era, and the short film "Grand Union", shot by Frank himself for the release of the self-titled album in 1991.

The second disc, meanwhile, is devoted to live performances. There are appearances on TV broadcasts from 1982 and 1983, the video for "Coitus Interruptus" taken from a New York concert in 1981, the entire show held at the Hacienda on 28 February 1984, an excerpt from the Exciter Tour, and finally the complete show at the Garage, January 2002.

In the booklet notes, his ex-wife Barbara - who oversaw the project - painstakingly reconstructs the work and difficulties involved in putting the retrospective together, alongside a remembrance from Marc Almond, his old classmate at Leeds Polytechnic.

Farewell Frank, rest in peace, you went back to nature far too soon.

Frank was the first artist I ever worked with on Mute. He made some very special and influential records and was an exceptional live performer. He played a big part in helping to lay the foundations of what the label was to become in the ensuing years, i will miss him greatly.

(Daniel Miller)

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google