Depeche Mode, “Memento Mori.”

Spurred on both by pandemic lockdowns and the death of founding member Andrew Fletcher, the new album by now-duo Depeche Mode is a dark and claustrophobic work that reflects not only the times but the ways in which singer Dave Gahan and guitarist Martin Gore are dealing with them.

Lest one forget, Memento Mori is Latin for “remember that you must die,” or that death comes for us all. If that in itself doesn’t make you gasp for air, these 12 industrial-sounding arrangements will surely remind you that the walls are closing in on all of us. These reminders are present throughout the album, but some songs make it more obvious than others.

“First we stand up/ Then we fall down/ We have to move forward/ Before we drown … we drown,” Dave Gahan croons on “We Drown,” which seemingly illustrates the growth cycle from childhood until… the end. This message is coated in layer upon layer of gauzy synths, icy squeaks and monotonous electronic percussion. That track falls toward the latter end of the album, and it’s followed by the even more pessimistic “People Are Good,” on which Gahan tries to convince himself that things are meant to work out for the best in between screechy synths that sound like a dentist’s drill and classic Depeche Mode melodramatics.

“I keep telling myself/ That people are good/ Whispering under my breath/ So that I don’t forget/ Keep fooling myself/ That they do all they can/ Sometimes they simply slip up/ But it’s not what they meant,” he recites like a mantra.

Despite Gahan and Gore varying up the pace on these songs, few of them can be called “uptempo” because of how they’re delivered, in progressions full of minor chords. “Never Let Me Go,” one of the faster, poppier tracks on the album, is a prime example. It evokes feelings of dread but at an increase of beats per minute. The duo worked with producers James Ford and Marta Salogni on all of these songs, while Gore partnered with the Psychedelic Furs’ Richard Butler to write four of the songs—originally for fun before co-opting them for Depeche Mode. That, too, was a product of the pandemic, when everything was suddenly on the table because of the extra time.

The album is bookended by two cinematic pieces that feel inspired by the works of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who of course were inspired first by Depeche Mode. A distant reach from ’80s synth pop or new wave, these encircle the rest of the album in an ominous haze. “My Cosmos Is Mine,” the opener, blends power tool growls, fat-sounding and fuzzy bass, retro-futuristic synths and kick drum blasts as Gahan delivers his vocals in a near-spoken-delivery, “Don’t toy with my heart,” and “don’t alter my headlines.” Then Gore enters and intones, “No war …/ No more …/ No fear …/ Not here …/ No rain, no clouds/  No pain, no shrouds/ No final breaths, no senseless deaths.” The song invokes “Blade Runner” or “Dune” both in the instrumentation and the message, though the theme about controlling the narrative certainly pulls from the headlines of the last few years.

“Speak to Me,” the album closer, has a message that sounds downright like Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” (“I will disappoint you/ I will let you down) though Gahan does his best to grasp for whatever hope he can muster as croons about following the voice of someone who can set things right. “I need to know you’re here with me/ Turn it all around,” he sings over woozy, modulating synth tones that begin to swell alongside a cacophony of electronic strings. The song has an open-ended conclusion, letting listeners decide for themselves whether it’s a sad or happy one.

The songs most likely to get listeners moving are front-loaded into the album. “Wagging Tongue” isn’t a happy song (“Everything seems hollow when you watch another angel die”) but there are just enough major chords to tap your toes or nod along. And the album’s first single, “Ghosts Again,” is 2023-era Depeche Mode at its most optimistic. It was one of the Butler cowrites, along with “Don’t Say You Love Me,” “My Favourite Stranger” and “Caroline’s Monkey.” While mortality remains at the top of Gahan’s mind: “Time is fleeting …/ We’ll be ghosts again,” Gore’s accompanying guitar lines are more optimistic, and it’s easy to imagine these synths could have been played by Fletcher.

Gahan has described the band’s songs on Memento Mori as being simplified. Perhaps they are compared to what Depeche Mode has previously done. There’s still enough here to pique the interest of fellow music makers and keep fans listening. It’s not a relaxing listen and is likely to feed into your existing anxiety. Art eliciting that strong of a reaction is an accomplishment.

Follow editor Roman Gokhman at Twitter.com/RomiTheWriter.