Mark Johnson - An Ideal for Living (1984)

Title: An Ideal for Living: An History of Joy Division

Author: Mark Johnson
Publisher: Proteus Books (original), Bobcat Books (reprinting)
Year: 1984

I stumbled onto this book at a local bookstore and quickly realized I'd found something special. An Ideal for Living is an obsessively detailed book about Joy Division and early New Order. It's been long out of print and copies on eBay go for dozens of euros. The book chronologically documents the bands from their earliest beginnings in 1976 until the end of 1983. While we may have the internet today to compulsively research and document every studio session and live performance of a beloved band, in the post-punk heyday this task was left up to the most hardcore of fans. This is a testament to that sort of dedication. Apparently, Mark Johnson was both loved and hated for his work: the band members were annoyed with his persistence and plentiful errors, but fans can only marvel at the amount of information in the book.

Most of the content of An Ideal for Living takes the form of a combined gigography, sessionography, and discography. Although the bands and some related parties were interviewed, the text primarily describes notable aspects of the live performances and recording details. Very few concerts are left without some sort of note, and every show for which a bootleg was available at the time is marked with an asterisk. (The introduction humorously states that to obtain these bootlegs, just ask around at the next New Order concert. Times have changed!) Accompanying these notes, there are also over a hundred reproduced photographs, most of which I'd never seen before.

There is one confusing aspect to this: it is unclear where the most of the information actually comes from. Sources are scarcely listed for anything except the direct quotes from the band members, their associates, and the local press. It would appear that the author attended many of the gigs in question, and has heard bootlegs where available, but one can only assume the rest of his information simply came from the fan community.

In addition to the comprehensive primary text, the other source of content is a series of pseudo-philosophical essays that also go largely uncredited. With only a few exceptions, they are only vaguely related to the bands in question. Most of these essays are nonsensical and an utter waste of space. They don't even do a good job of constructing mystique around the music, which might have been welcome considering how deconstructive the rest of the material is. Paul Morley is listed as contributing "Faces and Masks", and he is likely the author of some of these essays, especially considering his penchant for abstract, irrelevant prose. I generally like Morley, and he seems to like the same bands as me, but his writing often wanders too far off course. At any rate, the authorship is never fully clarified.

While the book is fun to peruse just to ponder the history, the author made no attempt to maintain a consistent narrative. Information is simply presented chronologically as it is available, and the book sort of awkwardly trails off at the end as the material had to be wrapped up for publication. There is also no attempt whatsoever to describe the musicians' personal lives; unlike Deborah Curtis' Touching from a Distance, family members and mental health are largely ignored. In the few words that are used to describe Ian Curtis, his suicide is considered a complete surprise, his depression is left unmentioned, and his epilepsy is downplayed. This may have been the general trend of the time, but with the benefit of hindsight, it's hard not to feel like warning signs were certainly present.

While reading the book, I tried to consider if this book is still relevant. It's a great resource, but apart from being out of date (new audience recordings have appeared since publication, and of course New Order is still active today!), most of this information is now well-documented online, on multiple websites, with additional details. The sessionography and discography are also available in the booklet accompanying the Heart and Soul box set. However, hardcore fans may still appreciate having all of the material in print, especially considering the photographs and the unique nature of many of the incidental details of the various concerts. Considering the limitations of the work and the difficulty in procuring a copy, I can only recommend it to the hardcore, which is presumably for whom the book was written anyway. It's a cool collection of information, but not essential.

Score: B

References and Further Reading:

Joy Division Central

Joy Division Shadowplay

http://archive.new-order.net/2012/08/12-march-1983-recreation-centre.html

https://lwtua.websitetoolbox.com/post/whatever-happened-to-mark-johnson-2753587

Peter Hook & the Light - Live 2014.11.04 Mohawk, Austin, Texas

I've been very skeptical of the recent trend of concerts consisting of full album performances. It seems like a blatant nostalgia trip, at risk of providing neither room for the creativity of designing a good setlist nor the freedom of rearranging songs to take advantage of the live setting. This type of show has become very popular among some of my favorite post-punk/new wave bands, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. It clearly is an attempt to give fans what they want, which apparently is just a rehashing of the past, but I see both good and bad in it.

I've also been very skeptical of the antics of Peter Hook as of late. It was only a few months ago that I acquired his first book, The Haçienda, and my review was mildly unfavorable. Hooky has long since seemed like the odd member out of New Order, and there is quite a bit of content available to the public of the feuds between him and the rest of the band. For that matter, there's a fair bit of history of feuds between him and others (cf. Freebass). In fact, he comes off as a bit of a loudmouthed jerk. However, it's hard to really know the truth or to actually establish fault.

At any rate, when I heard that Peter Hook and the Light were coming to town to perform New Order's Low-Life (1985) and Brotherhood (1986), I did not jump at the opportunity. It wasn't until just a few days before, after deciding that I wouldn't be going to the Fun Fun Fun Fest this year, that I realized that $21 was pretty cheap for an aging veteran of two of my favorite bands. Even though the forecast was heavy thunderstorms, the venue claimed to have tents, and I figured it was still worth a shot.

Artist: Peter Hook & the Light

Venue: Mohawk (outside)

Location: Austin, Texas

Date: 4 November 2014

First set (Joy Division):
01. Atmosphere
02. ICB
03. Passover
04. No Love Lost
05. Something Must Break
06. These Days
07. Shadowplay

Second set (Brotherhood):
08. Let's Go (instrumental)
09. Lonesome Tonight
10. Thieves Like Us
11. Paradise
12. Weirdo
13. As It Is When It Was
14. Broken Promise
15. Way of Life
16. Bizarre Love Triangle (extended)
17. All Day Long
18. Angel Dust
19. Every Little Counts

Third set (Low-Life):
20. Love Vigilantes

21. The Perfect Kiss (extended)
22. This Time of Night
23. Sunrise
24. Elegia
25. Sooner Than You Think
26. Subculture
27. Face Up

Encore (non-album singles):
28. Confusion
29. State of the Nation
30. True Faith
31. Temptation
32. Love Will Tear Us Apart

[Peter Hook & the Light.]

Of course, it did indeed rain during most of the concert, and the best spots were not actually under tents. So I stood in the rain and even took my usual notes, although I now know that was pointless since Hooky posted the setlists online the next morning. This was actually the opening night of the new US tour of these albums, following prior tours featuring the original Joy Division albums and then the first two New Order albums. It was also announced that the band would be their own opener, playing an assortment of Joy Division songs.

Currently, the line-up of the Light features Hooky's son, Jack Bates, on "rhythm" bass, along with three of Hooky's former bandmates from Monaco: guitarist David Potts, drummer Paul Kehoe, and keyboardist Andy Poole. Hooky himself sings and plays "lead" bass. The dual-bassist situation might strike some as odd, but since Peter's last band initially featured three bassists, this is not so extraordinary. Furthermore, considering the prominent role that his bass played in Joy Division and New Order, it's no surprise that many of the songs put both musicians to full use. Of course, in most songs, Hooky let his son handle the basic parts, while he would just occasionally double the parts, play an octave higher, or break for the solos.

Nonetheless, Hooky is still a solid performer, and when he did play, it was with honed precision and skill. On "Love Vigilantes", he even played the melodica riff, and in the bridges of a few songs, he would turn to a drum pad and beat out some extra rhythm parts. And naturally, he took the lead vocals – except on "Sooner Than You Think", where he let Potts take the lead on the verses. Potts also took the co-lead part of the chorus to "Paradise", and sang backing vocals in many songs. The similarity of his voice to that of Bernard Sumner's threw me off, but I'm glad it wasn't relied upon too much. Meanwhile, Hooky can actually do a decent job of approximating Ian Curtis, but these days he sounds quite different than Sumner.

The Joy Division set was a great way to start things off, especially since it started with their best song ("Atmosphere") and continued along with a motley selection of songs scattered throughout their brief career. Most of these songs were played with a punky, energetic vibe befitting the original band's live sound. The real surprise was "ICB", a conspicuous anomaly in that it is a New Order song from their debut album, Movement (1981). It fit right in, but one can only wonder why that song. After all, Hooky did sing lead on two songs from that album – but not that one!

I had assumed that after a brief break, the band would jump right into Low-Life. Instead, the Light (without Peter) came out and played an instrumental version of the rare "Let's Go". Hooky then came out and played both sides of the great 1984 single "Thieves Like Us" / "Lonesome Tonight". I figured that worked as a good chronological prelude to Low-Life, but the band surprised me again by starting into Brotherhood.

I've always slightly preferred Low-Life, and I'm left to assume that by reversing the chronology and playing it last, Hooky shares my feelings, or he figured his audience would. I felt wronged for a second until I realized that it didn't matter at all. Even if I do have an established preference when it comes to the recorded versions, I'd be hard-pressed to say which one was better live. I think the band handled the Brotherhood songs better than I would have expected, but part of it might just be that the album is less sequencer-based and thus translates to the live rock band format more readily.

The band brought a great energy to the show, and I thought the band's familiarity with each other contributed to a certain tightness. The sequencer-heavy songs (i.e. most of the singles and "Elegia") were less dynamic and exciting, but the music was still good. It's just a bit awkward to watch the musicians stand around on stage, waiting for their brief part or even just the next song. Otherwise, it was great to see some of these lesser-known songs played live for the first time since 1987 or thereabout. I also appreciated that several songs were played in their extended forms, closer to the versions found on the original 12" singles. "Bizarre Love Triangle" was definitely longer than the album version; "Subculture" featured a few elements from the 12" mix (although that's a rare case where I prefer the album mix); and "The Perfect Kiss" featured the third verse and extended instrumental section found only on the 12" version, although it probably still wasn't the full nine minutes of the unedited original. (The frog solo was sorely missed, for example.)

[Hooky on a stool with his six-string bass for "Elegia".]

Hooky's vocals were the one thing that were sometimes a weak point. While he appeared natural trying to convey Curtis's words, he was clearly less comfortable singing some of Sumner's vocals from the New Order set. The main problem was just range: Hooky's voice is much closer to Ian's, so he didn't really have to stretch to sing the Joy Division songs, but Bernard's voice is just a bit higher and softer than what Hooky could reasonably manage. He ended up singing many parts an octave lower, which sometimes worked and sometimes just didn't sound right. There were a few parts that he didn't drop but still couldn't do justice to. Otherwise, while his voice might not be extraordinary, I thought he did a good job with the vocals, and the mix was such that I could understand most of the lyrics quite well.

The encore included several singles from the era (loosely speaking), which naturally received great audience response. "True Faith" and "Temptation" really got the crowd excited, while "State of the Nation" was a bit of a surprise, even to me. (I always thought that one and "Shellshock" were of a lesser quality musically, even if the lyrics to "Nation" have reasonable merit.) The final number was a precursory take of "Love Will Tear Us Apart", which was satisfying despite the predictability.

I'll admit, Peter Hook more than surpassed my expectations. He might not have challenged his audience or provided any new insights, but the entire purpose of his project with The Light has been to bring alive songs of his past, and he certainly does it well. I give him major bonus points for the Joy Division set and especially all the extra singles and rarities. The show rocked, the sound was superb, and he treated his audience quite well, so what else could you want?

Score: A-

Peter Hook - The Haçienda: How Not to Run a Club (2009)

Title: The Haçienda: How Not to Run a Club
Author: Peter Hook
Publisher: Simon & Schuster (UK), It Books (US)
Year: 2009 (UK), 2014 (US)

I haven't done a book review in a while. A very long while, actually. But I've recently read several music-themed works and I'm feeling inspired. In the interest of full disclosure, I got this book for free through a promotion from the US publisher. (I was one of the two lucky winners of this contest.) Perhaps the fact that I got it as a promotional tool makes me more inclined to write about it. It is also worth noting that the US edition comes five years after the original UK release and appends a new postscript. I'm not aware of any other changes beyond the cover and the addendum.

[The UK cover.]

I'll admit: I probably would not have bought this book on my own. However, I was curious enough to put my name in the contest. While I like Joy Division, New Order, Factory Records, and the idea of a record label opening a venue/club for the obvious crossover appeal, the reality is that the Haçienda was far better known for acid house and rave music, which do not interest me. Oh, and ecstasy, which also doesn't interest me. Since Peter Hook is well-known for being something of a egotist and power-tripper (do some research around here to see what I mean), I wasn't sure how much I wanted to hear about drugs and booze and rock 'n' roll yet again.

But I got the book, so I certainly wasn't going to not read it.

The Haçienda is structured chronologically, with individual years serving as chapters. It begins in 1980 as New Order rises from the ashes of Joy Division while the band and their label (Factory) start thinking about opening a club. It opened in 1982, primarily making a name by hosting indie bands, most of whom were not even affiliated with Factory. The Smiths infamously played some of their first gigs there, and countless other noteworthy bands came and went during the early years. Oddly, New Order performed there rather infrequently. Success eluded the Haçienda until the late 80s, when the DJ nights became increasingly popular. Drug use was rampant, gang activity and violence became increasingly problematic, and the police and local government grew displeased. It closed inauspiciously in 1997 when the licensing came up for renewal and money problems became insurmountable.

Hook spends most of each chapter telling stories about himself and the club, sometimes interesting, sometimes not, and frequently quite indulgent. The worst offenses are a prologue detailing a long night of partying at the Haçienda at its height in 1991 and an interlude detailing a long night of drugs and drunk driving on Ibiza in 1988, while Hook and the rest of New Order were supposed to be recording Technique, an attempted crossover album that hasn't dated well.

However, he also summarizes the activities of the year and provides some perspective on the management and general atmosphere of the place, which is the real root of the narrative. Each chapter also includes an excerpt of the financial accounts of the year, a schedule of the major events (sometimes even with setlists!), and a few notable quotes. The financial records are usually left unexplained, but mostly seem in line with the perpetual joke/myth that the place never turned a profit. Surprisingly, at its height around 1989 and 1990, it appears that the Haçienda may have actually earned money, although it was probably used immediately to pay off debts.

The ancillary material is mildly interesting, but ends up turning about a third of the page count into pure reference material. Considering the considerable thanks heaped upon Claude Flowers (who "got the ball rolling and prompted me to remember a lot of stuff I thought I'd forgotten") and Andrew Holmes (who did "a fantastic job shaping the raw material and bringing it to fruition"), I wonder how much content was actually written by Hook. This isn't helped by Hook's acknowledgment that he began DJing only as a "celebrity DJ" who just picked the records but otherwise did no work and just partied.

That being said, there are certainly some humorous stories and revealing statements. I was bemused at the thought of Einstürzende Neubauten bringing a pneumatic drill into the venue for a show in 1985 and proceeding to attack a central pillar. Seeing the lists of amazing bands that played there proves that the management's taste and reach was impeccable – at least in the beginning, when they were perhaps dangerously ahead of the curve. Hook even dispelled the longstanding joke/myth that every copy of the "Blue Monday" single lost them money. Apparently the first two million copies netted them a loss of ten pence each, but the subsequent runs were simplified to cut costs and thus earn a profit.

The book is not without ironies, though. One is that Hook quotes from Tony Wilson's novelization of 24 Hour Party People, although the movie it was based on is quite famously largely invented. The line between truth and fiction is again blurred as a result, which casts doubt on some of Hook's more exotic tales, like launching fireworks inside the venue for a New Year's party and subsequently setting about five grand on fire.

The greatest irony, though, comes in the epilogue, where Hook states, "Would I run a club again? No. Too much responsibility – plus the wife would kill me." This section is followed by a postscript (written in 2010, after the first UK pressing) in which he describes opening a new club, FAC 251 – The Factory, located in the former Factory label headquarters.

Score: C-

P.S. I realize that providing a score in the C range risks being meaningless or content-free. The point is that if you love Hooky or the Haç to death, you'll love the book; otherwise you won't. So for the average reader, this book ends up being at best average, perhaps boring or even depressing.

An Essay About Packaging

For a bit of a change, I'm going to write a little essay here. I'd like to say a few words about something about music that I think is important: packaging. Packaging and liner notes, and printed lyrics, and little associated essays, and photographs. Good liner notes, that's what I like. Some well done cover art goes a long way, and I like reading lyrics along with the album. Notes, credits, photos, and so on are not entirely necessary but awfully nice when present.

For me, a big part of buying albums is getting the packaging. This is why I don't like buying digital albums (or just copying or illegally downloading music). I really like to be able to hold the artwork and look at it thoroughly. I like to get to know albums I buy, and it's hard without packaging.

I hate buying CDs from the early 90s that just have no packaging. You get the regular old jewel case, the CD, and the tiniest liner notes possible: just a single sheet, folded once. Maybe it contains lyrics to one song and the credits. I mention the early 90s, but really it started in the 80s when CDs first came out, and when albums were being issued on CD for the first time, often the record company just shrunk the 12" vinyl artwork and crammed it into the 5" CD case.

Some of the worst examples are a few of the Cure's albums, like Boys Don't Cry (1980) (actually an American compilation basically consisting of their first real album, Three Imaginary Boys (1979) and their first three singles), Devo's Duty Now for the Future (1978) (containing literally nothing on the sleeve but a catalog listing from the record company), Moby's self-titled debut (1992), or Electronic's self-titled debut (1991). (I should note that many of the Cure's later albums have much better liner notes, like Disintegration (1989) and Wish (1992).)

[The Cure – Boys Don't Cry (1980). Not much more here than the bland, non-band-approved art.]

[The Cure – Disintegration (1989). A major improvement – interesting, plus lyrics and more art inside.]

Plenty of albums, new and old, just don't have much packaging. Sometimes that's fine. That defined New Order, for example. Actually, any band whose album covers were designed by the Factory artist Peter Saville (namely, Joy Division, New Order, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Ultravox, and a handful of others) is nearly guaranteed to have been given a great design. New Order in particular was known to have a sort of mystique, and the lack of descriptive liner notes was part of that. It's still a bit bothersome, but their style was so good that it's hard to complain. Some artists and bands get away with less and it's not so bad (Neil Young's Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969) has such a great cover but limited liner notes), but sometimes it feels like some bands just don't care.

[New Order – Power, Corruption, and Lies (1983). This is the original cover by Saville; later CD reissues added the band name and title. A great cover picture.]

[Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures (1979). Another of my favorite Saville covers. Some of the inside art available only on the vinyl version inspired an oil painting I did in high school.]

[OMD – Dazzle Ships (1983). Another Saville work. The vinyl version has a unique design with small holes designed to let the different colors of the inner sleeve come through while pulling the inner sleeve out. A great design.]

[Neil Young and Crazy Horse – Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969). Simple, but I love that shot so much, and the way it was printed made it grainy in a sort of good way.]

Some bands just get it right. I apologize for my incessant talk of the Smashing Pumpkins, but it happens a lot, and I'm going to mention them again. Their liner notes are superb. Gish was weak, but all four subsequent commercial albums (and the outtakes collection Pisces Iscariot and the b-sides box set The Aeroplane Flies High) all have great liner notes. The albums all have full lyrics, plentiful artwork, photography, full credits, sometimes special notes from the band... it's good stuff. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness even had two booklets (but it was a double album) – one for lyrics with little clip art-ish (only better) drawings, and one for weirdo collages and the actual credits.

[From the sleeve of The Smashing Pumpkins' Adore (1998). This has always been one of my favorite shots; I painted my own version. The sleeve is thick due to several pages of photos and complete lyrics in different fonts and arrangements.]

The Smiths always had good liner notes too – full lyrics and pictures from any number of Morrissey's favorite movies, TV shows, or whatever. Radiohead have been masters of album art for years now. They may or may not print their lyrics, but the interesting arrays of artworks are never disappointing. They make each album and EP really feel like an item of value.

[The Smiths – "This Charming Man" single (1983). Morrissey always found interesting shots of his favorite actors and models, and this was always one of my favorites.]

[Radiohead – Kid A (2000). This art was mind-blowingly arty and thus great.]

I don't remember exactly when bands first started releasing CDs in packaging other than jewel cases, but that can often be interesting. It's more popular with reissues these days, but Neil Young's Mirror Ball (1995) has a cardboard-ish slip sleeve sort of thing, and it's not bad. I like the nontraditional slip sleeves in that it's at least something different. It helps.

[Neil Young with Pearl Jam – Mirror Ball (1995). A great cover that doesn't even include words.]

Vinyl in general is an entirely separate story. Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and the New Order albums had the same limited packaging when first released on vinyl, but the artwork was bigger. Some albums on vinyl merely have the cardboard-ish outer sleeve and nothing (maybe a bland white sleeve) on the inside, and that's sad. Some would fold open or have elaborate inner sleeves, or just something extra, like John Lennon & Yoko Ono's Wedding Album (1969), which came with photos, articles, drawings, and a copy of the couple's marriage certificate. Genius. Part of my problem with vinyl may be that I'm a music collector of the 21st century and thus the vinyl I buy is always used – so pieces may be missing. However, my father's collection seems to indicate that this is only rarely the case.

[John Lennon & Yoko Ono – Wedding Album (1969). Whoever took this photo had a Japanese edition with all the inserts, which are displayed here.]

Most 60s and 70s material, when first put to CD, seems to be a bit simple – maybe some lyrics or photos or a little write-up. Think of every Beatles or Doors album, or even the Violent Femme's self-titled debut (1983). These aren't too bad, just uncreative and plain.

The best thing is when albums are reissued, usually with remastered sound and bonus tracks. Not only do I love bonus tracks, but these reissues usually have full lyrics and little essays and period photos. I adore these reissues. Echo & the Bunnymen's reissues are notable for all the above, plus an extra paper outer sleeve, but no lyrics (which is even weirder considering the original CDs had printed lyrics). The Cure's reissues (and the reissue of the side project The Glove's Blue Sunshine (1983, reissued 2006)) are fantastic: a whole second disc of bonus tracks, lyrics, photos everywhere, little essays and notes. Wonderful. The Byrds' reissues lack lyrics but have song-by-song notes. Not every band gets it right, though: Psychedelic Furs and Siouxsie & the Banshees reissues are disappointing for the lack of much of anything but a few bonus tracks and notes.

[Echo & the Bunnymen – Ocean Rain (1984). I love this album and its cover. The packaging of the reissue helps, but lyrics would've been great.]

[The Glove – Blue Sunshine (1983). In case the name of the band wasn't clear, the cover makes it clear that this is a Yellow Submarine reference. The reissue keeps the design up throughout the entire lavish liner notes booklet.]

I know I may sound like a hypocrite for questioning the Smashing Pumpkins' $22, 76-page booklet version of Zeitgeist, but my version has a dozen or so pages anyway, and I didn't want to pay around ten cents a page for photography that wasn't even that great. I don't like overpaying, but I like a bit of effort to be put into something. If an artist can spend so much time making the music, how hard could it be to put together a package to make it physically pleasing in addition to the auditory enjoyment?

I could mention many more bands and reissues, but I figure that's enough. Feel free to make suggestions for notable good or bad packaging that I failed to cover.