THE PREMIER DIVISION

Joy Division

Unknown Pleasures (Fact 10 -1979)

Joy Division emerged from the dank industrial con-fusion of Manchester in the '77/'78 period. Signed to the nascent Factory label they become, within two or three years, one of the most important bands in rock.

Drawing devoted fans from all over the world they held them, fascinated, in a vice-like grip. Live they were awe-inspiring, with an affectingly grim visual impact and a hypnotic vocalist, Ian Curtis, whose epilepsy caused the premature end of the show on more than one occasion. And then, out of the blue, in April 1980, Curtis took his own life.

The remaining members added another to their ranks and evolved into New Order, who over the last dozen or so years have consistently made music that astounds and rewards ever-expanding numbers of wholly devoted fans. With the sad demise of Factory, New Order signed to London Records who recently re-released the entire back catalogues of both bands. But for the sake of nostalgia the Factory catalogue numbers have been retained in the following retrospective.

Even fourteen years down the line it is not hard to imagine the impact of Joy Division's first full release on an unsuspecting public. Appearing right at the commercial peak of punk, these ten songs were so uncompromising and so different from everything else around that an instant and total reaction - wholly positive or wholly negative - was unavoidable.

Start with the 'inside' and you get one of the most perfectly bleak songs you've ever heard, 'She's Lost Control', with its bare, cold electro-beat and Peter Hook's fat, ankle-slung bass vibrating its way through the icy climate. Ian Curtis's deep and eerie, almost gothic vocals pin you to the spot: "Confusion in her eyes it says it all, she's lost control again."

Or start with the 'outside' and 'Disorder' for Bernard/Barnie Sumner/Albrecht's chiming, melodic guitar and Curtis pleading with himself: "I've got the spirit, don't lose the feeling, let it out somehow."

Steven Morriss' strong rhythmic, almost tribal percussion creates a grim, clinical framework that drags you into its centre. Little surprise that Unknown Pleasures keyed into a late '70s/early '80s predilection for despondency, introspection and social isolation.

And nothing summed up that joyless, gloom-laden hopelessness more accurately than 'New Dawn Fades' with its single snare, single-noted bass melody, swirling guitar and an almost operatic Curtis singing: "A loaded gun won't set you free - so you say . . . Hoping for something more . . . hoping for something else."

Martin Hannett's production emphasised the perfect, robo-synthetics of the whole and Peter Saville's artwork helped crystallise the Joy Division/Factory atmosphere that was so special. A veritable classic.

Closer (Fact 25 - 1980)

Press coverage was busily offering some kind of picture of the Joy Division camp so people knew what to expect when Closer emerged a year later. Or so they thought.

Sure, the second album was a progression - Hannett had given it a fuller guitar sound, more substantial percussion to add to the familiar, dark and brooding vocal and lyrical content - but, if anything, while less skeletal than its predecessor, 'Closer', with the addition of substantial synth use, was somehow even bleaker and more powerful.

'Atrocity Exhibition' was dominated by rolling drums and guitar squalls with Curtis inviting entry to the cruel, animal freak show that is life - "This is the way, step inside." But 'Isolation' was (and still is) a complete shock to the system. A plodding synth that smacked of new romanticism but subverted that genre's camp foppery by way of Morriss' crisp, punchy, percussive beats and Curtis' doom-laden vocal style.

'Heart And Soul' is a stunning, tension-filled piece with its insistent beat and repetitive guitar riffs, and with Curtis (vocals sounding as if they were recorded in a crypt) asking: "Existence, well what does it matter?"

This second side showed the vocalist, who hanged himself in the same year of release, at his most vulnerable with a fragile helplessness pervading every track. There was 'Twenty Four Hours', with its perfect bass melody, hi-hat laden percussion and upbeat mentality, and Curtis recalling, almost epitaphically, how "Just for one moment, I thought I found my way, destiny unfolded, I watched it slip away."

And then there was the excellent 'Decades' with its metal back beat, synth swathes and the immortal line, "Here are the young men, a weight on their shoulders," that seemed to sum up 'the Joy Division fan' - pale, limp and world-weary, shrouded in a black, shapeless overcoat.

Still (Fact 40 - 1981)

Collecting the remains of unreleased Joy Division (or previous incarnation Warsaw) material and adding an album of live recordings (including excellent versions of 'Ceremony' and 'Transmission), the double Still rounded off the band's creative output perfectly.

Roughly hewn (Hannett again), the studio album was almost warmer as a result, and was by far the fullest sounding and most immediate of their releases. 'Ice Age' was the closest to a punk track they ever got with its frantic bass, glassy guitar and the vocals almost drowning in the ensuing melee. And 'Walked In Line' wasn't far behind with its military back beat and precise instrumentation. 'Dead Souls' was another highlight - and there was also a somewhat interesting version of the Velvet's 'Sister Ray'.

And the live portion? A typically ramshackle and therefore ultimately loveable example of the band letting everything hang out. Curtis' performance is, of course, archetypal idiosyncratic and both captivating and enervating as a result. Still is a perfect example of the deviant wilfulness that caused so many to be devoted to the band and so many others to dismiss them out of hand.

Substance: Joy Division 1977-80 (Fact 250 -1988)

They're always a strange entity, these 'collections'. And a lot of them are no more than an excuse to take money from fans who've already got most of the material and are desperate to have that demo mix, or hard-to-get single.

Thankfully, this example is far more. Documenting the earliest days of the band (Warsaw again) it offers some recordings that none but the most die-hard would already have, as well as some bonuses that do no harm at all. From the ultra-punky, drum thrashing 'No Love Lost' and guitar-rocking 'Failures', through a tense and jerky 'Glass' and a vibrant, upbeat 'Novelty', to classics such as 'Atmosphere' and 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' it also admirably illustrates the progression of the band, paving the way for the emergence of New Order. The latter two songs, in particular, with their delicate synth work and Steve Morris' excellent drumming give a strong hint of what may evolve over the ensuing dozen years. Fractured it may be. Dispensable? Certainly not!

New Order

Movement (Fact 50 - 1981)

Curtis had taken his own life in May of the previous year, but the remaining three members of the band were bravely determined to carry on. Drafting in Gillian Gilbert (guitar/synth), they changed their name (and subsequently received criticism for toying with fascist imagery) and set to work on what would be the difficult first album.

There were bound to be problems and Movement can't help but reek of them. More poppy, more synthy, more dancey, yes. But at the same time it highlighted their coming to terms with the absence of Curtis. All the 'musical' elements of Joy Division were still there, they just hadn't really decided what to do with them. Bernard, designated as the new singer, had also yet to find his own voice.

A dark, cold album without the hypnotic beauty that had existed on JD's work. But a valuable pointer to the new directions in the offing.

Power, Corruption & Lies (Fact 75 - 1983)

Now this is more like it! New Order are still out on there own compared with a lot of the frivolous music of the charts, but they are altogether brighter (despite Bernard's occasionally cruel lyrical bent), cleaner and more assured. PC&L sees the influence of Steve and Gillian taking a stronger hold with more of an emphasis on swirling synth parts and a stronger identity for vibrant percussion.

'Age Of Consent' sees Bernard testing out his pop voice, singing rather than just intoning, and even adding the odd whoop, just for good measure. 'The Village' shows their pop ethic developing via easy synth movements and Steve's increasingly dancey rhythms - strangely, perhaps, Peter Hook's excellent bass sound has no problem fitting in.

The album also shows how Bernard would test the ground for ridiculous and rhymes ("Everybody makes mistakes, even me, just for free" - 'Ultraviolence') and get away with it!

More programming, a stronger grasp of the 'Euro dance sound' (see '586') New Order were becoming a loveable pop-dance band!

Lowlife (Fact 100 - 1985)

It was time for a true classic and now, five years after the effective death of Joy Division, the foursome were ready to provide it. There is still a darkness and foreboding to the quality of composition - understandable, considering the throttling grip of the Thatcher regime - but simple pop constructions prevent it from becoming overbearing.

Opening with the truly fine 'Love Vigilantes', New Order had at last created a homogenous sound that was truly their own, introduced by that New Order favourite, and most under-rated of instruments, the melodica. Hook's bass is fatter and more resonant than ever, Morris' drums as economical as ever and Sumner's vocals easy and flowing (still flawed and thin, perhaps, but that only adds to the fragile beauty of the song).

'The Perfect Kiss' is another winner ("I stood there beside myself, thinking hard about the weather!") bringing in those Euro-beats and gorgeous swathes of synth. 'This Time Of Night' sees Hook setting the lush, deep scene for a love song of very real passion. The aching, instrumental beauty of 'Elegia' does full justice to its title. 'Sooner Than You Think' lightens the load with another perfect pop song dripping with sweet melody, courtesy of simple and perfectly weighted instrumentation.

'Subculture' is a perfect dance tune (and was a natural single) and a wry comment on getting ideas above your station. And 'Face Up' is twee and rough and an ideal finale to a joyful, exuberant and perfect album.

Brotherhood (Fact 150 - 1986)

Having spent so long finding their sound New Order weren't about to lose it now. Brotherhood (recorded in part in Dublin's Windmill Lane studio) proved to be as uplifting as it predecessor.

From the first hi-hat and bass note of 'Paradise' through to the last reverbed guitar chord of 'State Of The Nation' there is nothing but positive pop with lashings of foot-tapping sensibilities sandwiched in-between.

The whole sound of it belies the foreboding metallic emanations of Saville's artwork. 'Broken Promise', 'Weirdo', 'All Day Long' some of the band's finest pop moments were squeezed into these ten tracks - along with a sombre tale of child abuse in 'Angel Dust'. The rumbustious, flowing 'Bizarre Love Triangle' was a classic single release of the period, as, of course, was 'State Of The Nation'.

New Order had evolved into the perfect unit, slotting together their divergent talents in a seamless package of soaring pop brilliance, while retaining an eye for the needs of the club scene which they so cherished (and supported by way of their interests in Manchester's Hacienda). Never before had disco and pop/rock been so consistently and successfully married together. Another perfect album.

Substance 1987 (Fact 200 - 1987)

The dance sensibilities of New Order (and in an abstract way Joy Division, too) had never been in doubt - Steve and Gillian had always claimed that they were a 'disco' band. And the band's single releases had progressively been aimed more and more directly at the club market, and with more than a modicum of success.

The Substance collection was, therefore, a natural assembly of that side of New Order (constructed with the aid and artifices of various innovative and like-minded producers - most notably Arthur Baker). Here was proof of their efficacy as a 'singles band'.

And when they get it right (which is most of the time) New Order get it so right that it almost hurts. Twelve tracks and not a bad one among them. From (Joy Division's) 'Ceremony' and 'Everything's Gone Green' to 'Subculture', 'Shellshock', 'State Of The Nation', 'Bizarre Love Triangle' . . . Gillian's synths cut swathes through your pleasure centres, Steve Morris' drum programmes (and live additions) defy you not to move, Hook's bass bites all the right parts of your body, and Bernard? Well, fuck me, his voice sounds absolutely divine (check out that cute growl on 'Shellshock').

And there was 'Blue Monday', too - which got so overplayed when it came out in '83 that I still can't really enjoy it.

And there were the B-sides and they are certainly a joyful boon. Cut up, messed around, what indie clubland had been looking for all its life. Just open your heart and let your feet guide you. (You also get '1963' which is quite possibly the best pop song the band have ever written!)

Technique (Fact 275 - 1989)

And then there was Technique. The ultimate culmination of New Order's cross-over interest in pop and the club-house scene featuring a wonderful spray of full-blown rhythms and beats - and recorded in Ibiza, naturally. Pop music had never before heard the likes of this maturity and downright genius. And neither had I when it first came out, I listened to little else for three solid months and still never tired of it.

Full of relaxed humour, free-flowing combinations and downright perfect composition. And a strong pointer that Bernard finally felt totally at ease with his role as singer and lyricist. And, naturally, Peter Saville's orchestration of the cover artwork was once again a triumph

The transition from Joy Division to New Order was finally complete. The band had come through over a decade of strife, turmoil and politically repressive times, and they had only got stronger, tighter and more essential. As Bernard sings in 'All The Way': "It takes years to find the nerve to be apart from what you've done. To find the truth inside yourself and not depend on anyone."

The story continues . . .