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For me, this is, without doubt, the best music bio that I’ve ever read. Jon Savage has done an amazing job of portraying the history of Joy Division in a very readable and viscerally exciting way. There is something special about this: he’s conveyed the ineffable reality of time and place; a concrete assertion of memory in a warts and all string of narratives. Describe it how you will, this book really is something special.
First things first: I am not a fan of Joy Division – not in the sense that I’ve ever listened to them very often, and certainly not in the sense that many of their diehard fans are. So, you’re getting no rose-tinted adoration of the magi here (though I’m beginning to realise that probably that’s my loss. Plus, weren’t there only three magi…? Anyway…)
I spent the punk revolution enjoying it, but looking down on it in a benevolently superior and condescending way. I was into Jethro Tull, Zeppelin, Purple, Shawn Phillips, folk rock, you know, the usual late 60s early 70s stuff. Punk was ok, a diversion, something for a change, Quo with aggression, maybe? – not for serious listening but at least they were mostly politically and culturally aware and I liked that. I’d heard Unknown Pleasures in passing, thought the lyrics were great but it was trying too hard to be Krautrock (why?) and I moved on. Closer, then: much better, but still not really my cup of tea. But at least, in amongst the plethora of new bands, here was something with substance that demanded I think about the music and the lyrics, that wasn’t just wallpaper or pastiche. I recognised it as something different, a bit special. Yet still I smiled benignly and moved on. Cue Blue Valentines or Zeppelin IV….
I’m not saying this to denigrate their music in any way, but to show that these comments aren’t composed of two-parts glorification and one-part hero-worship. They’re composed of two-parts reality and one-part ignorance, so in writing about this (trying hard not to let slip any spoilers) I’ve no particular axe to grind, either for or against.
The fact that I’m now most certainly “for” says a lot for Jon Savage’s work.
I was immediately transfixed with how well the book conveys the atmosphere and psychogeography of a disintegrating area. It transported me back to my youth, growing up in an area of industrial and commercial decline whose infrastructure needed immediate life-support but which was plainly being ignored by Westminster and openly reviled by successive Tory governments. There was no way up; the only way was out: in this case, Manchester; in my case, the Heads of the Valleys in South Wales.
Even better is the narrative of those experiencing Manchester’s struggles and how I could identify to varying degrees with the people involved. So, you can see this book took me in and made me feel right at home from the off.
Once in, the insight the book offers into the rise of Joy Division was fascinating, a fabulous joyride of characters and events underscored by the sad decline, the struggles and the death of Ian Curtis, related in such an (at times) brutally honest way by the main characters. The end, of course, is poignant; the fact that the band continued after everything they’d been through is to their credit.
One final point: about the paperback’s cover. (I do like a good cover, me
First things first: I am not a fan of Joy Division – not in the sense that I’ve ever listened to them very often, and certainly not in the sense that many of their diehard fans are. So, you’re getting no rose-tinted adoration of the magi here (though I’m beginning to realise that probably that’s my loss. Plus, weren’t there only three magi…? Anyway…)
I spent the punk revolution enjoying it, but looking down on it in a benevolently superior and condescending way. I was into Jethro Tull, Zeppelin, Purple, Shawn Phillips, folk rock, you know, the usual late 60s early 70s stuff. Punk was ok, a diversion, something for a change, Quo with aggression, maybe? – not for serious listening but at least they were mostly politically and culturally aware and I liked that. I’d heard Unknown Pleasures in passing, thought the lyrics were great but it was trying too hard to be Krautrock (why?) and I moved on. Closer, then: much better, but still not really my cup of tea. But at least, in amongst the plethora of new bands, here was something with substance that demanded I think about the music and the lyrics, that wasn’t just wallpaper or pastiche. I recognised it as something different, a bit special. Yet still I smiled benignly and moved on. Cue Blue Valentines or Zeppelin IV….
I’m not saying this to denigrate their music in any way, but to show that these comments aren’t composed of two-parts glorification and one-part hero-worship. They’re composed of two-parts reality and one-part ignorance, so in writing about this (trying hard not to let slip any spoilers) I’ve no particular axe to grind, either for or against.
The fact that I’m now most certainly “for” says a lot for Jon Savage’s work.
I was immediately transfixed with how well the book conveys the atmosphere and psychogeography of a disintegrating area. It transported me back to my youth, growing up in an area of industrial and commercial decline whose infrastructure needed immediate life-support but which was plainly being ignored by Westminster and openly reviled by successive Tory governments. There was no way up; the only way was out: in this case, Manchester; in my case, the Heads of the Valleys in South Wales.
Even better is the narrative of those experiencing Manchester’s struggles and how I could identify to varying degrees with the people involved. So, you can see this book took me in and made me feel right at home from the off.
Once in, the insight the book offers into the rise of Joy Division was fascinating, a fabulous joyride of characters and events underscored by the sad decline, the struggles and the death of Ian Curtis, related in such an (at times) brutally honest way by the main characters. The end, of course, is poignant; the fact that the band continued after everything they’d been through is to their credit.
One final point: about the paperback’s cover. (I do like a good cover, me