Alan Wilder Bio | Alan Wilder Pictures

Alan Wilder was born on June 1, 1959 in Hammersmith, London, UK. Alan Wilder was born into a neither "rich nor poor" family. Known by many as Depeche Mode's only trained musician, he began piano at the age of eight, through the encouragement of his parents. Later on, he learned the flute and became a leading musician in his school bands. After school, Alan worked as a studio assistant at DJM Studios. This led to him ending up working for bands such as The Dragons, Dafne and the Tenderspots (as Alan Normal), Real to Real (featuring Adrian Chilvers on Bass, Pete Fresh on guitar, Wolfgang Marlander on Drums and Paul St. James Vocals), The Hitmen, and The Korgis, appearing on the single "If I Had You" (1979).

Following the departure of Vince Clarke, Depeche Mode put out an ad in the music magazine "Melody Maker": "Keyboard player needed for established band - no timewasters." Even though the ad was looking for someone under 21 (Alan was 22) he lied about his age to get the job, and got away with it. For many years, Wilder was seen as the musician in Depeche Mode. As such, he is credited by much of the fan base for moulding Martin Gore's songs and sculpting the sound that became known as the Depeche Mode sound. His efforts can be felt all over classic albums like Black Celebration, Music for the Masses, Violator and Songs of Faith and Devotion
'Songs Of Faith And Devotion' was the last studio album to feature Alan, as was the subsequent tour, The Devotional/Exotic Tour,
On June 1st 1995 (his 36th birthday), Alan announced his departure from Depeche Mode: "Due to increasing dissatisfaction with the internal relations and working practices of the group, it is with some sadness that I have decided to part company from Depeche Mode. My decision to leave the group was not an easy one particularly as our last few albums were an indication of the full potential that Depeche Mode was realising. Since joining in 1982, I have continually striven to give total energy, enthusiasm and commitment to the furthering of the group's success and in spite of a consistent imbalance in the distribution of the workload, willingly offered this. Unfortunately, within the group, this level of input never received the respect and acknowledgement that it warrants. Whilst I believe that the calibre of our musical output has improved, the quality of our association has deteriorated to the point where I no longer feel that the end justifies the means. I have no wish to cast aspersions on any individual; suffice to say that relations have become seriously strained, increasingly frustrating and, ultimately, in certain situations, intolerable. Given these circumstances, I have no option but to leave the group. It seems preferable therefore, to leave on a relative high, and as I still retain a great enthusiasm and passion for music, I am excited by the prospect of pursuing new projects. The remaining band members have my support and best wishes for anything they may pursue in the future, be it collectively or individually."

His latest project
Recoil began in 1986 as a two-track experimental EP. Simply entitled 1 + 2, this collection of primitive demos caught the attention of Mute Records label boss Daniel Miller and was inconspicuously released as a mini-album on 12" vinyl. An album, Hydrology, soon followed in 1988 and both were eventually re-issued by Mute on CD as Hydrology plus 1+2. These early Recoil recordings revealed Alan's position as a pioneer in the newly emerging world of sampling technology and demonstrated how he could turn the Depeche Mode sound around to create something entirely new. Wilder described the project at the time as "an antidote to Depeche Mode; a way to alleviate the frustrations of always working within a pop format". Almost immediately, Wilder found himself back in the studio to record what would become the most successful Depeche Mode album to date, Violator. It wasn't until the band finally allowed themselves an extended break after the enormously successful World Violation Tour that Alan could return to Recoil—not, however, before agreeing to produce Ebbhead, another album for label-mates Nitzer Ebb. It was during this time that he cemented a working relationship with lead singer Douglas McCarthy who would return the favour by singing on Recoil's next album, Bloodline. For the Bloodline LP, released in 1991, Wilder recruited guest vocalists for the first time, with further contributions from Toni Halliday and Moby helping to produce an album that demonstrated his ability to concoct slow-burning soundscapes drenched in drowsy paranoia. Electro Blues for Bukka White featured long-gone disembodied blues-man Bukka White muttering and wailing underneath an eastern drone that both eulogised and ignored him. Like the rest of Bloodline, the effect is disconcerting but ultimately very moving. The recordings also marked the first Recoil single, a cover of Alex Harvey's song "Faith Healer". Between 1992-93 Wilder resumed his Depeche Mode duties as the band recorded the album Songs of Faith and Devotion. Released to universal acclaim, it topped the charts in the UK, USA, Germany and a host of other countries. Enjoying hits with "I Feel You", "Walking in My Shoes", "In Your Room" and "Condemnation", Depeche Mode embarked on their most adventurous tour to date, enduring a gruelling fifteen months on the road. Although the group had reached the pinnacle of success, aspects of the lifestyle had taken their toll on everyone and things eventually came to a head. In June 1995, having spent fourteen years as an integral part of one of the most popular and influential bands the UK has ever produced, Alan Wilder made the decision to leave Depeche Mode. Free from his group commitments, Wilder could now focus solely on Recoil. In September 1996, he began work in his own studio, The Thin Line, gradually piecing together the unnerving scores that would become Recoil's next album Unsound Methods. The final results were more impressive than ever—what emerged appeared to take up where Songs of Faith and Devotion had left off. Guest vocalists this time played a more up-front role than ever and featured Maggie Estep, Siobhan Lynch, the reappearance of Douglas McCarthy, and Hildia Campbell. The styles of each could not be more removed from one another helping to create a startlingly original and diverse collection. The more organic style of Unsound Methods incorporated every imaginable musical genre from trip-hop to gospel, with a recurring theme of obsession in all its manifestations, taking one to the edge of unease, through dark, dub-infected landscapes, reverberating with shivering piano, seductive strings and a deep electronic pulse. In the spring of 2000, Recoil released Liquid which this time utilised the unique qualities of internationally acclaimed fellow Mute artist Diamanda Galás, 1940's gospel crooners The Golden Gate Jubilee Quartet, along with New York spoken-word performers Nicole Blackman and Samantha Coerbell. The worldwide music press received the Liquid album with a host of glowing reviews and Wilder was awarded a Grand Prix du Disque from the Académie Charles Cros in 2000. Strangely enthralling and genuinely unhinging, Liquid masquerades as the aural equivalent of a disturbing movie. Wilder's intoxicating soundscapes kick up clouds of the same dark dust that falls on David Lynch or Nine Inch Nails, but where others may hammer out their message with histrionic force, his touch is lighter and characteristically more subtle. Following a five year break from recording, Alan Wilder returned with Recoil's fifth studio album, entitled subHuman released in July 2007. Wilder's skill at blending diverse and eclectic musical styles with often controversial subjects has produced an album of complex sonic imagery and expansive dynamic range. Collaborating this time is blues-man Joe Richardson, whose evocative vocal style is complemented by accomplished guitar and harmonica performances. Born in southern Louisiana, Richardson spent years immersed in the murkier side of New Orleans life and offers a unique commentary on conflict, religion, incarceration and personal struggle. English singer Carla Trevaskis, a songwriter in her own right, brings an expressive range and control to subHuman and has worked with artists as diverse as Fred de Faye (Eurythmics), Cliff Hewitt (Apollo 440) and Dave McDonald (Portishead). Says Wilder: "We seem to have learnt nothing from past experiences and our so called 'civilised' world is still awash with personal and global atrocities. From suicide bombings in the Middle East, to ethnic cleansing in the Balkans; from the homophobic rhetoric of the Christian fundamentalist preacher, to the activities of Western governments engaged in their 'war on terror'".[cite this quote] SubHuman asks us to reach within ourselves and extract the very essence of what makes us human—and more importantly what allows us to subordinate others, sometimes with the most brutal consequences. "We are all 'subhuman' in somebody's eyes".[cite this quote] In February 2008, Wilder released an open letter[1] on the Side-Line Magazine website, titled "Music For The Masses - I think not". In the article Wilder handles his vision on today's shifting music market and the position of the artist in this. The following is the open letter he wrote for his fans.It is a rather long and involved document but a fascinating read and look into the the genius mind of Alan Wilder.

" We live in a world of technology - exponentially increasing breakthroughs in all things scientific. So fast that we can't even keep up with it. So why is it that the audio quality of music is degenerating? Music 'sounds' worse. We have stopped listening, we don't have time. We only have time to be smacked in the face by the loudest, most attention-grabbing blast of souped-up noise imaginable until ear fatigue sets in and the desire to 'change the record' takes over. Why are the adverts on TV twice the volume of the regular broadcasts?
It's the only way to get our attention in the VOLUME WAR.

In recent years, a revolution in processing technology has instigated a change in the way albums are mastered. In order to compete, A&R men, producers, even the artists are demanding that mastering engineers, via digital compression, crank up the level so high that all dynamic range is callously sacrificed.

(Compression essentially increases the volume of the quieter elements within a mix while holding steady the peaks of the louder parts)

The effect of excessive compression is to obscure sonic detail and rob music of its emotional power leaving listeners strangely unmoved. In fact, the ear naturally compresses high volume blasts to protect itself - this is why we associate compression with level. Our sophisticated human brains have evolved to pay particular attention to any loud noise, so initially, compressed sounds seem more exciting. It is short lived. After a few minutes, research shows, constant volume grows tiresome and fatiguing.

True excitement comes from variation in rhythm, tone, pitch and a wide range of dynamics which in turn provides space and warmth - something you're unlikely to find in much of today's rock/pop music. If you want a good example, listen to The Arctic Monkeys'I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor' for a bombardment of the most unsubtle, one-dimensional noise.

The download spiral...

At the moment, MP3 compression allows a smaller file to be created by excluding the musical information that the human ear is less likely to notice. Much of the information left out is at the very high and low end (MP3s don't reproduce reverb well for similar transience reasons). So when the already squashed CD master is then consumed via MP3, the flattening effect is enhanced further. The result - an unsatisfying, brittle, indistinct, hollow experience with no punch.

Just as the CD replaced vinyl, we all know that MP3 and other digital formats are quickly replacing CDs as the most popular way to listen to music. This means more convenience but inferior sound (although that may improve over time). Even the audiophiles have moved on to multi-media - the iPod or iPhone being the 'must have' item of choice. Many have lost interest in high-end stereo systems while younger listeners have grown so used to dynamically compressed music that the battle has already been lost.

But this is not the whole story. We are seeing the ramifications of this subtle but significant listening shift for the record industry. You see, it's not just about audio quality. It is about craft, toil. It's about art...

Art for art's sake......

I am slightly out of the ordinary in that I am not a hugely 'successful' artist in terms of commercial sales and in that sense, I struggle to be heard just like millions of other musicians. However, because of my background in Depeche Mode, I am secure, which has meant (and continues to mean) that I don't have to tailor what I do to conform in any way. The market shift hasn't really affected me that much. It certainly doesn't change how I approach making music. It does reinforce my cynicism towards the injustice of so much good music lost in the mêlée of dross. But that is nothing new. The nature of mainstream radio hasn't improved in any way; magazines have minimal impact, television exposure is more limited than ever - notwithstanding MTV channels which have become more and more marginalised. In fact the best way to get your music heard is through a TV advertisement.

Leaving viability aside for a moment, I would like to see a return to high quality art, embracing all the wonders of technology and science, delivered at a price that reflects the time and effort the artist has put in. Call me old fashioned. Just as one would expect to pay for a hand-crafted piece of furniture or a designer dress or a beautifully printed photograph. Rather than pandering to mass media, why not also produce higher resolution audio - maybe on DVD since that's a format most people can engage with without having to buy new equipment? Combine this with lovingly produced artwork which, if a printed option is too expensive, can at least be downloaded.


Collectors items are becoming a way to escape the turmoil. It makes a lot of sense to subsidise the production of an expensive format for those who really appreciate quality and collectibility by allowing a wider audience to cough up a minimal amount for the fundamental elements.

Some have tried. For instance,Magne Fulmon (A-Ha)
released and sold 300 copies of a special 10" vinyl picture disc with hand-painted original sleeves, accompanied by a CD containing all the songs, a poster and a documentary charting the creation of the artwork. The package sold at 100 Euros a piece. Afterwards, all songs were made available on-line for free via MySpace. Hats off to a bold approach which effectively encouraged each serious fan to also become a kind of personal investor.

The successful implementation of a DVD/art/film package such as this by a major company largely remains to be seen. No reason for it not to work as long as the label takes a pragmatic view about downloads - that they can only really act as a promotional tool rather than generating a sustainable source of income.

But really, coming up with a format is the least of the challenges - the difficulty as always is how to sell it.

Certainly trying to get any sort of coverage in the record stores ceased to be a viable option some time ago. The chains themselves are on their last legs (note the recent demise of the excellent 'Fopp' stores) or they are mutating into something different - focusing on games, merchandise, iPod accessories and so on. To ensure their own survival, with their 'no returns' policy, the record stores exert heavy pressure on the record companies by only agreeing to stock 'dead certs' - just the best selling artists, in order to avoid being left with excess stock.

As for marketing and promotion, I want the first listening experience of one of my records to be exactly as I intend it to be heard. For that reason, no longer will I be offering up advance copies for charlatans posing as journalists to sell on E-bay or upload to The Pirate Bay 3 months ahead of release. Considering the amount of advance promotion I get these days, it won't make a blind bit of difference to the sales performance.

Not that there aren't any positive sides to fan-shared files. Clearly, people in remote parts of the world - Siberia for example - can potentially be exposed to my music this way, albeit not, as yet, at optimum quality. It's not ideal but better than no opportunity to hear it at all. Even with CDs, in Russia, they are impossible to buy outside of the major cities which is why we get sharp, entrepreneurial fan sites buying up all the city's stock and selling it on to others outside for a small profit margin.

From Russia with love.....

Recoil recently released an enhanced CD including a film and a special booklet. Let's take a look at the process. The 'Prey'/'Allelujah' package was brought about through fan pressure; by those that want a physical product - completists maybe, but also music lovers who prefer the audio and tactile quality of a CD over downloadable 'faceless' products. The tracks had already been available as downloads but it wasn't satisfying for many. The generation gap is showing.

Following a successful promo appearance in Moscow, a local DM/Recoil webmaster managed to persuade Gala Records (EMI's local label - Mute's partner) that it would be worthwhile to release this disc. They agreed - not without conditions mind you. So what was agreed?

Firstly, the promo trip was instigated by an Electro club manager. The club paid for and largely organised the visit. On the back of that, Gala arranged some radio, press and TV. The results were more than encouraging but despite this, the conditions of a release meant that: the fans had to pay for the manufacture of the disc, the fans had to implement pay structures and distribute the disc via their own website, other Recoil fans produced the artwork for a 28 page booklet that accompanied the disc, another fan produced and directed the 9 minute film that was included for 'Allelujah', the artist (me) produced the music in his own studio, the artist funds its own website along with a dedicated webmaster that works for free, the artist and the fans took care of the on-line marketing, promotion and sales support. All these services were provided as labours of love - no cost except for time and effort through sheer will to make it happen. Astounding. And it warms the cockles of my heart.

So what did the record company do, you ask? A good question. The record company organised the parts into a manufacturable product - this means making a production master from existing music mixes and cobbling together a two-page inlay with label copy from existing artwork. The local licensee added cyrillic legal jargon to the inlay and alerted some press and TV. Not much really is it?

Ok, this is not the norm and as such, slightly unfair. It was a kind of one-off experiment. Gala/Mute might argue - a favour. But it is most definitely the way things are going. Why won't they release the CD in the usual way? Because they don't believe the demand justifies the effort and manufacturing costs when the trend is for cheap or free downloadable music.

The Russian project was an interesting experiment but it could only expect limited success given the current view of that country and the customer mistrust that seemed to permeate the whole enterprise. It wasn't an ideal way to try to sell a product but that doesn't preclude the process itself becoming perfectly workable - as long as solid logistics are in place, making it simple and reliable for the customer.

(Note: despite the obvious hurdles, in fact we still managed to sell all the planned stock prior to release, such was the demand)

Pop will eat itself????

So why bother with a record deal at all? And that is what many artists are now asking themselves. Why wouldn't they when they are being told that their company just can't afford to spend any money? Or that the company wants a cut of the artist's live income to pay for marketing. This is why we see the mass exodus taking place, squeezing the already crippled record industry. The artists that find it easiest to walk away are those that are already highly successful, compounding the problem still further. Why? Because the likes of Radiohead and Prince can afford to give their music away as a cheap promotional gimmick in order to create publicity for their respective machines. They get noticed for doing so and benefit in other areas. So with everyone now expecting free music, all the other artists lose what little income they could expect from record sales, even though the love and money spent producing their product hasn't changed.

I've long since given up expecting to make a profit from what I do. And you might expect that I would be full of resentment and bitterness toward my own record company but that's not really it. Mute are victims in all this. The reality is that all the companies are suffering and are desperately clinging on by their fingernails trying to come up with solutions as the rug is pulled from beneath them.

In Mute's case, EMI have inflicted so many spending restrictions and are 're-shaping' and 'streamlining' with department 'centralisation' and the reduction of the artist roster. EMI big cheese Guy Hands describes his business as 'an unsustainable model' with a need to 'reduce waste'.... Garbage collection. Thinly veiled rhetoric meaning CUTBACKS! He talks of 'eliminating duplication and bureaucracy'. Bottom line: 2000 jobs have to go.

More worryingly, he also offers us the information that currently about 3% of the entire roster is profitable and that those that never will be profitable, no matter how the model is changed, can kiss their arses goodbye.

That is about as far away as you could ever get from what I understood as the Mute philosophy, where the profit from major selling acts is used to nurture all the other artists on the label. Art. A record company does not sell baked beans, it exposes art to the masses. An unquantifiable thing. Baked Beans - a quantifiable thing.

But is that philosophy realistic in these times? Clearly not if you're ruled by a private equity conglomerate. The Mute home (now part of the EMI building) is a shadow of its former self. A few lost souls wandering around in a post-apocalyptic daze, like a scene from '28 Days Later'. There are some good people at the label who have their hands tied. And their feet bound. And some gaffer taped firmly across their mouths, helplessly kidnapped having been lured into the corporate machine.

Of course Mute can't just up and leave. It would be like trying to put your house up for sale when you're only renting it. I imagine Daniel Miller is as concerned as the next tenant. He is contracted to EMI as Mute's label boss and his own future I imagine is unclear. Maybe he is tired of the whole business, his original vision impaired beyond repair. I'm sure he is just as passionate about music as he ever was, but who would want to start a new record company in the current climate?


Business acumen will vary but it is essential for artists and their representatives to try and stay ahead of the game, to think up new endeavors. One could see the return of small art-focused indie labels employing a new modus operandi (it's already happening if you look around) with minimal overheads, operating more as logistical support to the artists, organising the manufacture and effective mail order distribution via the artists websites and other associated outlets. Taking the strain. (This doesn't mean one has to abandon the idea of mass availability via iTunes or similar)

By the time I finish another album, who knows if I'll have a record deal at all? It would be a shame to end my association with Mute after such so many good years but I've got a feeling the decision could be out of my hands. Much depends on the future of Mute/EMI and indeed all the companies. It could be that the major selling artists on Mute just get sucked into the EMI machine and all the others fall by the wayside, including the Mute label itself. It will be a sad day indeed.

So who shall we blame for the whole mess? Do we stick two fingers up at the record companies who have sat around twiddling their thumbs, peddling overpriced re-issues for years while their A&R men bombard us with shallow, faceless pop idol, X factor boy bands? Is it fair to say “... well, you had it coming”...? Or do we accuse the casual 'non-listener' with the attention span of a three year old living in a disposable, homogenized, Paris Hilton-obsessed society, over stimulated with too much life choice? A society that places value in triviality and accepts mediocrity without much question? Or perhaps the devaluation has evolved from the cult of the DJ, where anyone can regurgitate the very essence of rock 'n' roll by lifting an entire 70's funk classic, adding some rap drivel over the top and calling it their own work? Is modern music regarded as an art form at all anymore? Or is it just another business now?

Alan Wilder