I was a high school freshman when I heard my first Depeche Mode song, “Policy of Truth,” on Omaha’s Sweet 98. I was instantly fascinated by the slinky beat and darkly seductive synth melodies, not to mention Dave Gahan’s rich baritone. I’d never heard music like that before, and given that I was on the cusp of high school’s angst-ridden years, it arrived at the perfect time. It wasn’t until almost a year later, though, that I got to hear Violator in its entirety after a classmate dubbed me a cassette copy.

To this day, there’s still something almost unsettling about Violator’s tales of seduction and obsession. Depeche Mode has always been on the randier end of synth-pop’s spectrum. But Violator is the band’s pinnacle, the apotheosis of their sleek, goth-y sound.

When Gahan sings “Let my body do the moving/And let my hands do the soothing/Let me show you the world in my eyes,” he sets the tone for an album where love and lust co-exist and love is always tinged with desperation, where human passions and frailty make it nigh-impossible to choose between sin and virtue. Thus, Gahan’s cry of “Though we may deserve it/It will be worth it” on “Halo” possesses all the conviction of those who know they’ve doomed themselves. “Waiting for the Night” becomes an existential plea for tranquility while “Clean,” with its proclamation that “I’ve broken my fall, put an end to it all/I’ve changed my routine/Now I’m clean” feels as delusional as it does hopeful.

Combined with the band’s effortlessly cool vibe, crisp programming, and rich production — done in collaboration with uber-producer Flood — Violator is a trip through the darker aspects of human desire and obsession. And it remains just as arresting as it did when I heard it 30+ years ago.