The Sober Curator

Dave Gahan of Depeche Mode’s Inspiring Journey to Sobriety Since 1996

Photography by Sober Curator Phillip Vitela @a13photography

Three wives, three lives, one journey

The story is a bit familiar: troubled youth, early exposure to substances, and running from oneself. Gahan grew up in Epping, UK, in the 60s with his mother and stepfather, who would pass away when Gahan was 10. He would find out later that his mother was keeping from him that his biological father was trying to reach out to him often during his youth. She did this for reasons known only to her. His biological parents had split when Gahan was an infant.

Self-destruction is the pattern.

Having no contact with his father sent him into a self-destructive fuck all attitude at a young age. He would start stealing his mother’s medication, which included barbiturates and amphetamines for epilepsy. He was stealing, robbing, and fighting till he was put into a youth facility for eight weeks for his actions.

At fifteen, Gahan met and joined his friends to form a little group called Depeche Mode. They would go on to sell millions of records worldwide. They would also ultimately save Gahan’s life, giving him the focus of music and art. By 1980, Vince Clarke, Andy Fletcher, Martin Gore, and Gahan would be crushing the charts. All while, Gahan would be discovering a love for heroin. The 80s had them touring the world and Gahan diving deeper into addiction with little notice. During that time, he met his first wife, Joanne, and had a son, Jack. That union would not survive the decade. They divorced in 91 during the Violator tour.

“All that stuff was painful to me.” Gahan recalled, “Everything just piled up on top of me in six months.” He quickly moved to LA and, in April of 92, married his drug partner, their US press officer Teresa Conway (sounds about right). They both used heroin. They wed at the Graceland Chapel in Vegas without any friends or family. “We made a pact early on that I’d never use intravenously, but of course, being a junkie and a liar, it didn’t take long.”

It’s a question of time.

Before Depeche Mode’s 1993 world tour, to promote the Songs of Faith and Devotion album, the band had meetings “Where the question of Dave’s drug usage was addressed,” said Alan Wilder, who had replaced Vince Clarke.

“It was put to Dave that if he didn’t clean up his act, we wouldn’t make it through such a long tour.” So he agreed. Yet he was unable to keep his word.

Gahan shares a horrible story that tells of his mother and son Jack walking in on him, lying on the bathroom floor surrounded by drug paraphernalia. He lies, of course, and says it’s for steroids to help his voice. Early in 1995, unsurprisingly, Gahan’s marriage to Conway would come to an end. “Our marriage was pretty much non-existent anyway.”

At that point, Gahan’s mental health struggles would emerge. In August 1995, while in a five-star Hollywood hotel, he took Valium and drank a bottle of wine. He called his mother in England and started a conversation. Partway through it, he asked his mother to hold on and walked to the bathroom, where he cut his wrists.

Bleeding, he picked the phone back up and told his mother that he’d better go now.

“It was a suicide attempt, but it was also a cry for help. I made sure some people might find me.”

Released, he returned to his apartment in Santa Monica, where he would hide with the lights off and the curtains taped shut. He slept in a large, coffin-shaped bed. “My whole life was Spinal Tap at that time,” he said. Gahan recalled that whenever he went outside, he was so paranoid that he was never without a gun. “I had lots of guns, a 9mm, a .38 revolver, and a 12-gauge shotgun, too,” he said.

“I just thought they were out to get me. Yeah, it was like the bit at the end of Goodfellas with the helicopters. I mean, if there were actually helicopters overhead or cars going by, I’d freak.”

Needless to say, his life was crumbling around him, but he hadn’t hit his bottom yet.

“There wasn’t any conscious effort to destroy myself, but I didn’t want to be here. It had nothing to do with being in the band. That was the last thing I was worried about.”

In 1996, he overdosed again. “David, you died. You flatlined for a couple of minutes. You were dead.” The hospital staff cautioned.

“All I saw and all I felt at first was complete darkness,” he later said. “I’ve never been in a space that was blacker, and I remember feeling that whatever it was I was doing, it was really wrong. Then the next thing I remember was seeing myself on the floor, on the steps outside my hotel bathroom, and there was a lot of activity going on around me… Then I came to, and a cop was handcuffing me.”

Two months later, to avoid going to jail, he was ordered into an intensive outpatient program that included counseling and mandatory urine tests for drugs. He would leave LA and Move to New York, never turning back.

Momento Mori

Today, Dave Gahan is completing the Momento Mori tour (Latin for Remember Death, we all die live to the fullest.) Fletch passed last year. The band’s original members are Martin Gore and Dave Gahan. Dave Gahan lives with his current wife and is about to celebrate 29 years in 2024. As for the future, the band is wrapping up the latest tour with fantastic reviews. The band still plays a strong set. However, Gahan said he couldn’t see himself playing into his 60s. We can only hope he continues with his side project Soul Savers.

Hearing the music with a different vision

I’ve listened to Dave Gahan’s music since I was a tween. Being in recovery and now well into adulthood, I can hear the words a bit differently. Listening now, you can hear the pain of addiction and the surrender of sobriety.

The new album is filled with songs that speak of mortality and life. While songs like Caroline’s Monkey and My Favorite Stranger dive right into the darkest memories of Gahan’s struggles with addiction. That monkey on your back being heroin, and that stranger, being the one that wears your face when you’re drunk and high. Looking like you, sounding like you, leaving lies and bad turns in its wake. “That guy,”

Other songs talk about the victories that recovery brings. Songs like My Cosmos Is Mine, with words like No rain, no clouds, no pain, no shrouds. The song Speak to Me is about an addict finally telling the one who kept speaking to him while he was lying on the bathroom floor That he’s ready. He’s ready to help, listen, and receive help from the one who didn’t give up on him. That one hit home!

Passengers on a long trail

Music has always been great therapy, and the words created by Gahan’s journey over the decades of struggle and recovery reflect the healing. Keep in mind Martin Gore writes these words. Gore, his friend and bandmate, has lived this journey with Gahan. As we know, the journey is ours, but the passengers are the people who stand with us.

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PLAY IT AGAIN: Music can instantly transport you to another state of mind and alter your mood in a heartbeat. This corner of the website features songs that represent some part of our recovery journeys and serve as sobriety anthems in reminding us to stay the course. These are the ones that have us saying PLAY IT AGAIN” and always end up on repeat. No decade or genre is off-limits. Happy listening!

What’s your sobriety theme song?  If there is a song you think should be on our playlist, we want to hear about it.  Send your requests to thesobercurator@gmail.com

Maybe podcasts are more your jam? We’ve got you boo! RECOVERY PODCASTLAND provides a curated list of the recovery-based podcasts that we are following.


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