Aries: Rolled down his window and screamed: “YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF IDIOTS” at people protesting something he didn’t personally agree with. (I can’t remember exactly what they were protesting… I just remember it happening)
Taurus: Trash talked Donald Trump on a number of occasions, and called the guy who threw the shoe at George W. Bush a “goddamn national hero”.
Gemini: Looked me dead in the eye and said “Shianne, I’m so glad you agree that Kirk and Spock are gay. I’ve been trying to tell your grandma that for years.”
Cancer: Recorded all the episodes of Full House and put them on a video cassette for me.
Leo: Whenever we drove past the cemetery told the same shitty joke: “You know people are just dying to get in there…” He laughed hysterically every time this happened.
Virgo: I asked him what he was afraid of, he answered, “I’m afraid of someone holding a gun to my head and threatening to kill my entire family. That’s what I’m afraid of”. I was 7.
Libra: Jumped out of a moving car to avoid an argument with my grandmother.
Scorpio: Watched FOX News with me and paused every 10 seconds to explain why they were wrong.
Sagittarius: Stayed up all night watching reruns of Seinfeld on multiple occasions.
Capricorn: Got really irritated that I kept calling crayons “colors”. He corrected me every single time.
Aquarius: Never signed up for the draft, even though he was 18 in ‘68. Is also very proud of this and says “I WOULD DO IT AGAIN!!!!!” on many occasions.
Pisces: Took a picture with his toy sized Yorkie for his Christmas card. They posed like he was taking her to the prom, and he was wearing a suit for some reason.
Last night I dreamt that Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump were trapped in an upside-down umbrella floating in the middle of the ocean during a really violent thunderstorm. They survived and, when they made it back to shore, to thank each other for their survival Donald gave Bernie a big, shiny, black limousine and Bernie gave Donald some hummus.
Summary:October 1933. Victor seeks out Senator Beriam after the events of the Mist Wall and demands answers.
Characters: Victor Talbot; Manfred Beriam; Spike; the Former Felix Walken; Victor’s subordinates
Word Count: ~4300 words.
Notes: I was nervous about writing this, because I’m not sure if I have the best grasp of Senator Beriam and I haven’t yet written anything with Victor as the main character before. But I really wanted something written about them one-on-one, since I feel that Victor would take Beriam’s actions fairly personally/react to them quite strongly, given his personal belief in justice and the responsibilities he has as a federal employee. I don’t think I did the concept justice, but…I tried. Would really like to Victor confront Beriam in 1935-E.
“What are you doing here?” I asked sitting up, pulling the sheet up to my armpits. Aware I was in a white t-shirt with no bra underneath. Not like he can see through in the darkness. Loser.
I could just make out his face as the moonlight shone through the window.
“I fucking missed you” He meant it. It wasn’t like when he’d said it jokingly when I’d met him the first time, about missing Rick. There was no sarcasm.
Had he been coming in here every night? The dreams I’d had of him touching me. Had that been real?
Almost asking him I stopped myself. Maybe it was best to keep that a secret. That I knew. No one could take it away from me then.
He looked tired. I’d never seen him looked this this, drained. Wherever he’d been, whatever he’d been doing he was shattered.
I wanted to ask him.
Find out but something stopped me.
“Are you ok?” He asked removing his leather jacket and throwing it in the direction of the arm chairs. Missing as the thud of it hitting the floor told us. Huffing he mumbled a ‘fuck it’
Nodding my head “Yeah” I mumbled “Whats wrong?” I could feel worry coming off of him.
‘“Just dealing with shit” he sighed. Frustration clear in his voice. “Nothing un-fucking-usual these days”
“Okay?” I twirled a piece of loose thread on the sheet between two fingers “Have you been avoiding me?”
“Fuck no” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand “I’ve just been busy” he was frustrated “I fucking wanted to but it was always so damn late” So you snuck in and spied on me when I was sleeping anyway? My heart felt full with that information.
I scooted over and patted the bed for him to sit next to me.
“Talk to me about it” smiling I added “I was once told by this tyrant that I was quiet, and you know quiet people make great listeners”
“Tyrant?” He laughed looking at me for a moment, deciding on if he was going talk to me I guess.
After a few he finally sat down, with his back flat against the headboard, bringing both of his legs onto the bed in front of him. I wanted to tell him to get his dirty boots off my bed but held my tongue. It was his bed after all I guess. He owned everything.
“Is that what you think of me?” He sounded uneasy “Of me as a mother -fucking tyrant?”
“Aren’t you? I mean you have to be, if you weren’t people wouldn’t respect you” He was silent so I added “Every community needs a leader wether its someone like you or a politican or something”
“Comparring me to a politician? I don’t know if I should be offended by that”
“Calm down, Its not like I was saying you were Donald Trump or Whats her name Clinton or something”
“I’ve been called worse” Well no shit Sherlock.
“I bet” I confirmed, I don’t think anything anyone called him would surprise me “but you get what I mean right?” A grunt was the only response I got “I won’t lie to you Negan. The killing people I don’t like and the owning people and all of that but I get it too, you have to protect this place and if it wasn’t you it would be someone else. You have to do what you have to do”
Again he stayed silent and I wasn’t sure if I had said the wrong thing or if he had just fallen asleep on me.
“You’re not what I thought you know” he finally spoke, clicking his tongue. What did he mean by that? I looked over in the dim light of the room and watched as he closed his eyes, dropping his head backwards.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t fucking know y/n” he laughed.
“When I first saw you I thought you were hot and you looked so fucking flustered, I like that, making girls, women flustered” He thought I was hot? “And you…. You just kind of blew my mother-fucking mind” His laugh was dark “I mean here you are sitting having a damn conversation with me. Arse extrodinar”
I wanted to say he wasn’t but that would of been a lie.
“I never imagined, in my wildest fucking you’d actually say you wanted to come here, with me you know” I swallowed, staying silent.
“When I left, the day I made the offer I told myself that you’d never want to. I mean fucking hell doll you’re Ricks daughter, and he fucking hates me with a passion”
“I get it though I killed his people. But you, there is just something about you that calls to me sweetheart. The sadness you had I could feel it pouring out of you as you stood there in that house. It made me so fucking angry thinking of you being unhappy. Someone like you should have everything you want, be happy as fuck”
“God If I’d of witnessed anyone there being the tiniest bit less than nice to you I don’t think I would of been able to stop myself y/n” He meant killing didn’t he? He would of killed someone… for me?
I was blown away.
His words…. They just meant so much more than anything. To me.
“Negan” breathed slowly.
“You’re just different I didn’t think people like you existed anymore… you remind me so much of… someone I used to know”
“I’ll take that as a compliment” I chuckled.
“What happened? Today” I said trying to change the subject. The air felt heavy from his confession. My heart felt it.
“Oh y/n that Father of yours is making more trouble than you could imagine” I felt the breath catch in my throat.
He’d been to Alexandria?
Who had died?
“He doesn’t like following any damn else rules. Does he?”
“What..” The words died in my mouth. Oh god what had he done now?
“He made some friends with these filthy garbage people” he said after a moment of silence “Made a deal with them” oh god “The idiot actually thinks he can create an army and take us out”
“He’s a fool” He is going to get himself and everyone killed.
“You’re are not wrong doll” Thats what worried me.
“What did you do?”
“I made a better deal, they’re on our side now” So did that mean he hasn’t been to Alexandria?
“And if they offer a even better deal?”
“They won’t” he sounded confident “Did Dwight give you a tour today?” He asked as my eyelids began to feel heavy. Not now. I needed to stay awake.
“Yeah” I nodded my head ”I’d like to wonder around on my own though”
He stayed silent
“I don’t know”
“I get bored sitting in here all day”
“Maybe, let me think about it” Well it wasn’t a no. That was something.
“The people don’t like me”
“No one could not like you y/n”
“Thats not true, I’m pretty sure I’m enemy number one back at Alexandria”
“Wouldn’t you say that was me?”
“Okay number two then”
He laughed “I might make the one time acceptation and have it a joint position”
“Deal” I laughed lowering myself so my head was back on the pillow.
“Why do I have unlimited points?”
“Dwighty boy told you that did he?” I stayed silent waiting for him to speak “I promised you could have anything you want, I keep my promises. As long as you don’t break rules than you’ll never have to worry about needing anything here”
Would that apply if I asked him to let Daryl go? I doubt it.
“He thinks you’re doing it to make me one of the wives, like you’re trying to bribe me”
“Well I did offer and it was you who said no if I remember correctly, more than once”
“Having doubts?” He joked. He knew I wasn’t going to be one. At least I hope he did.
“No I just want to make it clear…..”
“Message received loud and fucking clear y/n” he breathed loudly out of his nose “No promises I won’t stop asking though”
“I don’t trust him”
“I just get a bad feeling around him, I don’t like him”
“I know what you mean but I thought it was just because of Sherry”
“Yeah” he didn’t have to speak. I knew. She was one of the wives. And what Dwight was jealous? He fancied her?
“I’d like to do something here” I said changing the subject, I didn’t want to know about them.
“What do you mean?”
“Work, do something to feel useful”
“I’ll think about it”
“Y/n I said fucking I’d think about it, ok?”
“Ok” I mumbled disappointed.
“They all judge me”
“The people, today they all looked at me in this way.. like they”
“They won’t do that again” he started to get angry.
“I just want to prove I’m useful”
“You being here proves that”
What did that mean?
My head felt heavier. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep them open much longer.
“If I asked you for something would you do it?”
“You can’t save anyone else from Alexandria y/n, that was a huge thing”
“I know but Daryl…”
“You want me to let him go?”
“Please, I owe hi..”
“No” he cut me off before I could explain if it wasn’t for Daryl I wouldn’t be sat here now. I wouldn’t be here with him. “that is the final answer. DO NOT bring it up again y/n” Fuck I had gone and made him angry.
We stayed silent for a long time. More than twenty minutes easily.
“Anytime” I heard him say as I drifted off.
For the first time in a long time I fell asleep with a smile on my face “Don’t……. leave”
Waking up the next morning I became aware I wasn’t alone.
The memories of the night before came flooding back and I instantly opened my eyes to come face to face with Negans chest. I had slept on his chest all night?
Well not all night cause it must of been gone 1am when he came into my room but still.
I could feel the weight of his arm draped over me. Could I please wake up like this every morning?
The morning sun was shinning brightly outside. What time is it?
Negan was softly snoring facing me. His face the most relaxed I had ever seen it.
This was the first time I was able to unashamedly stare at the man without him knowing. His salt and pepper stubbled made me smile.
The first time I had seen him he had been clean shaven and I had to admit the stubble was so much better. I wanted to touch it but didn’t want to wake him.
He really was a beautiful man.
“Are you just going to stare?”
Hi voice made me let out a small scream.
“No just me, Negan” he chuckled stretching his hands over his head. Instantly I missed his arm being over me.
“I should go”
“Don’t” I put my hand on his chest. I didn’t want him to go.
Lazily he turned to me and smiled.
“What are you thinking y/n?”
About how much I want to kiss you.
Never let you leave my bed. What like some kind of sex slave? He didn’t need you for that. He had the five wives don’t forget.
“Hey hey” he grabbed my hand on his chest “Whatever you’re thinking stop I can see what you’re doing. You have to stop doubting yourself”
How did he know? This man seemed to know me better than I knew myself.
Without allowing myself to doubt it I lurched forward and kissed him.
It took him a moment to catch up but when he did he hands grabbed at my skin. No doubt leaving marks but I didn’t care. I moved so I was straddling him, a leg on either side.
God he tasted just like he smelt. Tobacco and mint.
He groaned as our tongues danced together.
I needed more.
Separating the two of us gasped for air. Foreheads leaning against each other.
“Jesus y/n” he breathed with a small laugh “you’re going to be the death of me baby girl”
“Shut up” I told him before kissing him again.
His lips felt smooth and I couldn’t help but bite his bottom one. Letting out another growel he surprised me and flipped us over so he was above me, pressing me into the mattress.
“I thought you didn’t want to be a wife?” He asked before kissing his way down my jaw.
“I don’t” I breathed. Did he only have sex with them?
“Good” what? “You’re better than them” again, what? “More important”
“Negan” he stopped what he was going and looked at me. It almost looked like he was frightened I was going to tell him to stop “Just shut up and kiss me”
No other words were spoken before his lips were once again caressing mine. God he tasted so good.
My hands found their way under his shirt, felling his toned muscles and the sprinkling of body hair on his chest.
His hands were pulling and pressing at my own shirt.
“God I want you” he moaned.
“You already have me” I admitted. It was true this man owned me and not in the way he owned everything else.
“I want to make you cum”
“Negan” I moaned.
His body felt so right pressed against mine.
His kisses became frantic. Like he couldn’t kiss me hard enough. Like he was frightened if he didn’t I’d disappear.
Suddenly someone was banging on the door.
“Go away!” Negan shouted, barley stopping his kisses.
“Theres a problem boss”
“Fuck off!” He leant his forehead against mine, breathing hard “I really don’t want to do this baby but I gotta go”
“Okay” I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
“Hey, hey” he lifted my chin “I’ll see you later on”
“On my life”
He quickly stood, leaving me on the bed that once looked small now felt like seven queen beds pushed together without him in it. He straightened himself up, picking up his leather jacket that had missed the chair last night and checking his hair in the small circular mirror that hung by the door. It was not in his usual style. He flung the jacket over his shoulder
“Jesus” he looked at me after he brushed his hair back as best he could. He took one last look at me before opening the door and leaving.
“Fat Joey take y/n around today she wants to explore our fabulous home” I couldn’t help but smile.
As soon as the door clicked shut I fell backward and let out a silent scream. I felt like a bloody teenager.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE PARTS PLEASE LET ME KNOW :) <3
You should open these in full view but anyway
I did some black hair studies. I was specifically looking at types 4a (Scottish twins) and 4c (Percy). Percy really doesn’t have much time to get ready in the morning so I also wanted to find out how he’d keep it healthy with minimal care. This was pretty helpful, I learned a lot
A/N: SO I went to see Logan yesterday and it was sick so I thought I’d write a little Donald Pierce x Reader thang. I can see some serious potential for a part 2 so let me know what y’all think. This contains some major spoilers for Logan and mentions of violence. Enjoy!
Your feet clicked against the stone floor as you entered your kitchen. You’d done this every day for the last four years but today something was different. The plates inside of the cupboard began to rattle as soon as you entered and you gripped the kitchen surface to steady yourself.
They escaped. They’re free.
You breathed rapidly trying to still the surge of emotion building inside you. You’d never felt so conflicted - you couldn’t deny that you were glad the children were finally free but by doing so you had betrayed the person that you loved.
But how could you ever love him? He was a monster.
The tempestuous feelings inside you built to such a level that the lights around the room began to flicker. The sounds of kettle rapidly switching on and off filled your ears as the currents surged from your body into the kitchen around you.
You felt as thought you were about to explode when you suddenly heard the front door slam. You stopped instantly - only at the result of decades of schooling yourself to react automatically to company - and the cutlery draw crashed loudly onto the floor.
‘Baby?’ You heard a thick southern accent drawl from nearby as you released the kitchen counter from your grip and stood stock still.
Donald appeared before you a moment later. His sunglasses hung loosely in his hand as he squinted at you in the dim light of the kitchen. The fuse must have blown again.
'Darlin’ are you okay?’
Donald pressed his flesh hand to your cheek, face automatically tightening in concern when he felt how cold and clammy the skin felt underneath. Your little episode had weakened you significantly and constantly suppressing your abilities only allowed you to use them in short bursts anyway.
'What happened in here?’ Donald gestured towards the floor and for the first time you noticed cutlery was scattered everywhere from where the draw had fallen.
'I-I stumbled and pulled it out.’ You murmured avoiding his gaze as he studied your face. Seemingly satisfied with your explanation, Donald led you to front room where he help you sit down on the sofa. You instantly flopped down onto your back as he briefly left the room before reappearing with a damp flannel which you were secretly grateful for as a headache began to blossom over your brow.
'I-I think I’m sick.’ You mumbled again as you scrunched your eyes shut trying to block out the pain.
'Shh just lie back. I got you.’ Donald spoke softly as he dabbed your brow with the cloth. His metal hand rested on your wrist and you tried to resist springing away from him. You were too uncontrolled right now and you didn’t trust yourself. One wrong move and you could kill him.
'I’ll take you to get checked out. No offence baby but you look like hell.’ You knew that Donald’s faux-teasing voice was laced with worry underneath.
'No! No - really. I’ll be fine. I just need rest.’ You steadied your voice as you lay back, keeping your gaze fixed on the ceiling above you.
'That’s my girl. Always stubborn.’ Donald chided gently, his hand still resting on your wrist - probably as a subtle way to measure your pulse. Slowly you could feel yourself starting to regain your strength as you focused on emptying your mind of all the feelings that had crowded you earlier.
'I hate to leave you doll, really - but something’s happened.'
You knew damn well what had happened but Donald didn’t know that. So you schooled your voice into one of concern as you as you attempted to pry the truth from him.
'What is it?'
'Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. I’ll have some of the boys set up outside to listen out in case you need me.'
Great. You thought, knowing full well that it would be highly suspect of you to refuse his protection.
'Okay love.’ You heard yourself saying, offering him a smile that you silently prayed would appear convincing. Donald seemed satisfied (or distracted) as he leaned forward and kissed you.
After he left you finally allowed your muscles to relax. You could still feel tiny shocks and static in your fingertips but the worst of it was over. You had never been proud of your so-called powers. In fact they were little more than a curse. You’d been born with the ability to control different energies around you. On the surface it appeared like an incredible gift but it had in fact brought you nothing but anguish.
You remembered the first time your power had resulted in a death. You glanced down and stared at your hands, the same hands that had tightly gripped at the limp kitten in your arms when you were five years old. You could recall the static sensation of its singed hair on your skin. You didn’t mean to kill it you just didn’t know how to control yourself yet.
Your parents were not like you -they said you were evil. You father had shook you so violently when he saw that you’d killed the kitten that you panicked and shocked him. As his limp body fell to the floor your mother began to scream, so loudly that it hurt your ears so you silenced her with a single jolt from your fingertips.
After that you were alone. You were smart enough to know that your home wasn’t home anymore. You spent years traversing the country - trying to stay out of trouble and avoiding the authorities who were desperately searching for a missing child, presumed dead.
You fled to Mexico when you were 17, a place where there were far less questions about where you’d come from. But you were still lost, drifting from one job to the next one that didn’t require a form of ID as you tried to keep the food in your belly.
Your ability to control the energy around you was very much a two-way relationship. You naturally found yourself drawn to the cities buzzing with lights and people. You spent three years making your way around Mexico before finally settling in the capital.
Transigen had captured your attention immediately. The amount of energy spilling from the walls of that place piqued your curiosity and you attempted to investigate what was happening inside, but to no avail. Security was far too tight. The only possible in for you was through employment. And for that you needed a verifiable background.
So you bided your time. You worked night and day until you’d saved enough money to pay a man to create you a birth certificate and passport. You were now Y/N Y/L/N. You spent hours schooling yourself into the perfect Transigen employee - hardworking, intelligent but also obedient and loyal. You practiced suppressing your powers, reacting to every possible surprise or eventuality. You vowed never to kill anyone again.
You paid the man extra just to throw in a few relevant medical qualifications, confident that you’d be able to learn as you worked, and before you knew it you’d landed the job.
You kept a low profile for the first few months of your employment. You were mostly constrained to admin work and knew for the fact that not a single person in there trusted you yet. Slowly you gained the trust of your superiors and were gradually allowed into the lab.
For a long time you couldn’t understand why the children were being kept like this. A cancer study seemed unlikely and your suspicions continued to grow. It wasn’t until one day when they attempted to restrain one boy who then decapitated the nurse stood next to you did you realise that these were not normal children.
That day did not stick in your memory for that reason alone - it was also the day you met Donald Pierce.
The moment he entered the room you had to suppress your abilities harder than you’d ever tried in your life. It didn’t help that he walked right up to, feet splashing in the blood that covered the hospital floor and brought his face right up to yours.
His blue eyes bored into yours as he spoke, his thick southern accent clouding any emotion that might have once been present in his voice like smoke.
'No.’ Was all you managed in a tight voice, unable to tear your gaze away from his. Donald had stared at you a few seconds longer and for a moment you were sure he knew your secret. But after what felt like a millennium he stepped back.
'Good. Don’t tell anyone about this.’ He murmured roughly before leaving the room.
You didn’t know it at the time but that was the beginning of the two of you. Everyone at Transigen thought Donald was the devil incarnate but you could almost see a warped logic to his thinking. You didn’t want more to die because of people like you. But you never, ever, condoned the abuse and neglect that the children received.
Every day that you worked there was another day where Donald cemented himself in your brain. You loathed yourself for being so hypnotised by his eyes and the way that the sound of his voice made your head swim. These feelings were completely alien to you and yet that didn’t stop you welcoming Donald’s invasion into your personal space, lips twisting into a half smile and revealing that ridiculous gold tooth when he studied you.
'You’re a smart girl - in fact, I think you’re dangerous.’ Donald drawled one night as you were cleaning up the lab at the end of the day. The words made your blood run cold as your mind began to conjure the idea that he knew. But he simply laughed in the end and brushed your shoulder lightly as he left.
It was difficult to piece together exactly how you’d arrived at your current destination. You and Donald had now been living together for four years. Four years. The fact was unbelievable even to your own ears but despite everything he showed you love that no one else had. You’d never been welcomed into a home to call your own before, never been held or never even been considered by anyone else until you met him. The last four years had been a conflict for you - how do you convince the man you love to give up his lifelong mission?
The sound of the front door clicking shut startled you out of your reverie. Several hours had passed since Donald had last left and you found yourself buried under the sheets of your bed now, not realising you’d been lost in thought for so long. All was good, for now, and the energy both in you and around you felt relatively lax.
You feigned sleep as you listened to Donald climb the stairs and enter the bedroom. He groaned in exhaustion as he undressed, his coat and jeans landing on the floor heavily as he stripped carelessly.
He climbed into bed next to you and you tensed at the sensation of his cold arms as they wrapped around you. The sensation of his facial hair rough against your neck relaxed you a little - despite everything, you felt at home here when it was quiet. Donald relaxed next to you but you knew he was wide awake.
'Everything okay?’ You whispered into the darkness as you intertwined your fingers with his.
'The kids are gone. I don’t know how but they fuckin’ are.'
His metal hand tightened around yours to the point of pain and you stroked his arm in response, hoping to calm him.
'You’ll get them back.'
'How do you know?’ Donald hissed and you tensed your jaw in response as you resisted the urge to snap back. Maybe you shouldn’t have been fucking holding them there in the first place. He didn’t scare you in the slightest but he could be difficult.
Instead you tried a different tactic. You rolled over and pulled his nude body close to yours, your lips moving over his neck as he hummed in response. 'Because you’re better than they are.'
Donald’s breath caught in his throat as his metal hand moved up to grip your hair as he kissed you.
You moved away briefly to take in the sight of him before surging forward and kissing him hungrily. Like your life depended on it. Donald made a noise of surprise but responded in kind. For all you knew this could be the last time. You could no longer sit idly by knowing what was happening.
Depeche Mode’s Martin Gore: ‘I Can’t Claim That the Songs Were All Written for Trump’
Thirty years after they gave us Music for the Masses, Depeche Mode is giving us music for the moment, taking on these troubled times on their new album, Spirit. But while their follow-up to 2013’s Delta Machine plays like a timely commentary on the state of the post-Trump world, it wasn’t conceived as such.
“It’s quite coincidental that the album has come out right now. I can’t claim that the songs were all written for Trump,” says Martin Gore, principal songwriter of the British electronic band. “It just seems like such perfect timing, because the world is in such a mess. But the majority of these songs were written in 2015-2016, so the world was in a mess then too. It’s just gotten a little worse.”
Before last year’s divisive U.S. presidential election, Gore felt compelled to tackle other political and social issues on Spirit. “We canceled a show in Kiev on the last tour because that was when things first started to kick off in the Ukraine [crisis],” he says. “And just after our tour finished, the Russians went into Crimea. And then there was the Syrian war going on — I can’t believe the world has just sat back and let that happen. In America, a constant battle was going on for rights: gay rights and transgender rights. There was the police violence against blacks. That was all happening during the writing period.”
Since both Gore and lead singer Dave Gahan live in the U.S., what was the band’s reaction after Donald Trump won the presidential election? “I think we were all just as shocked as all rational people,” Gore says. “On the day of the election I texted a friend of mine because I was a bit worried, and he said, ‘Don’t worry about it. Just look at the polls.’ So that night I sat watching it, and my jaw just kept dropping and dropping and dropping. I could not believe that so many people could vote for such an idiot. After everything that he did and said — things that we have tapes of him saying — I just don’t understand. It’s crazy.”
Adds keyboardist Andrew Fletcher: “I just hope he turns out better than we think. But we’re quite worried about the direction things are going at the moment.”
Depeche Mode was unexpectedly dragged into the political arena in February when alt-right leader Richard Spencer, who is a big fan, dubbed them “the official band of the Alt-Right.”
“We were quite shocked, I have to say,” says Fletcher. “We’re the opposite of that if anything.”
Gore was just as baffled: “He says he’s a big fan, but he obviously hasn’t completely listened to our lyrics. I just think he’s not all there. I think people always kind of know where we stand politically — everyone in the world except Richard Spencer.”
Gore says the new album’s title comes from the line “Our spirit has gone” in the haunting closer, “Fail.” “That [line] is one of the themes of the record,” he says. “And I’m hoping that by saying that and pointing that out, it helps people to think, and maybe we can get some kind of spirit back.”
As for the inspiration behind the politically charged single “Where’s the Revolution,” Gore says, “I think a lot of people are very frustrated and very angry, and I think they’ve just misplaced their anger. I think the system is broken and it needs to be fixed, but with the Brexit vote and by electing Trump, some of the decisions that are being made are not helping anyone.”
Meanwhile, “Going Backwards” reflects on the regression Gore has observed in the world. “Syria is like the Middle Ages at the moment,” he says. “And America is not quite in the Middle Ages yet, but it could easily be turned back 50 years very soon.”
Elsewhere, “The Worst Crime” deals with environmental issues. “For me, the worst crime is the fact that we are just destroying the world, destroying the planet,” says Gore. “We’ve known about it for a long time, and there are still so many people who deny it and will not accept what scientists tell us. It’s the worst crime because we’re not just destroying it for ourselves, we’re destroying it for our descendants. If we carry on the way we are, there will be no world.”
On Spirit, Depeche Mode worked with producer James Ford for the first time. “We liked a lot of James’s stuff he’d done with the Arctic Monkeys and also his work with Simian Mobile Disco, which is more electronic, so we thought he’d be perfect for us,” says Fletcher. “We wanted a quite minimalist sound in general, and he did that, and he was very fast.” Adds Gore: “We felt that it was time to make a change after making three albums with Ben Hillier, even though we loved every second of making those albums. We felt that we have to challenge ourselves and create a different atmosphere. I think [Ford] is a sound magician. He’s incredible.”
Now Depeche Mode — first-time nominees for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last fall who didn’t make the final cut of 2017 inductees — are gearing up to launch their “Global Spirit” tour on May 5 in Stockholm. As for the set list, Fletcher says, “That’s always a problem, because our back catalog is so large. We can’t play for seven hours. I think Dave might be really exhausted. But we try to pick some of the best moments from throughout our career.”
Gore is philosophical about it: “Whatever we do, there’s always some of our fans who will complain. But I think we’ve got a good set list that will keep the majority of people happy.”