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It's always the same. You find yourself casually browsing through bargain bins or special offer baskets marked in red... always hoping to find a DVD or a CD going for a fiver or so. But it always seems as though there's nothing in those baskets but 'Friday 13th [Part XXV]: Jason Joins the Chess Team', a broad selection of 'Home Alone' style family entertainment, 'Soldier, Soldier', 'Friends', and/or CDs offering up doses of Barry Manilow, Meat Loaf or Bon Jovi.
Yet we all keep looking. Just in case - just in case - we just happen to stumble along something. That special something that kicks in the adrenaline rush and gets us groping frantically in our pockets for fluffy loose change. I was doing it myself just recently; with one eye-brow raised, poking through the rather questionable items in a small, non-descript dumping ground for the aforementioned artist's works, 1980s musical compilations and the like, when I found something. Something which got me ever so slightly excited... It was Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division. An album which for some time now I have been wanting to find out a little more about. And as luck would have it, I had just the right amount of money rolling around in my pockets. Having showered the counter with a mountain of my dirty money, I made a hasty - if slightly embarassing - exit, with the album tucked safely away under my sleeve. I took my time with it, and tried not to expect too much. I find it often works when listening to an album to keep a completely open mind about it. When listening to an album, I try to envision would I would think about it if I wasn't quite so scared of what my friends would say. This approach can make even The Smiths not only vaguely approachable but really rather enjoyable - without the possible stigma of a label from your peers. I try to listen not only without thinking about what others may think, but also by keeping my mind open to whatever might come up. And be there waiting there to digest it - however bad it might turn out to be (besides, it all goes wrong, it was only cheap anyway, right?) It's often handy to put an hour or so aside for this, being careful not to be distracted by the perils of internet message boards, television screens or the people around you. Headphones help the immersion process just a little, too. Pre-conceptions? "Joy Division, ah yes. That depressing band. Turned into New Order after their singer Ian Curtis killed himself. Not exactly Westlife, are they?" Other pre-conceptions? "A legendary black cover with an image of some squiggly lines on it. Might be good. Must buy it if I see it going cheap. Could be something special." (these "squiggly lines" is actually an image of a dying star, a printout of the flashes produced by the CP1919 pulsar). Of course one of the problems with the album cover is that it doesn't let you know what tracks are included on the disc. The back cover consists of little more than a barcode and the album cover. And as a result, those who bought it hoping for 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' (possibly their best known track) may be sourly disappointed (as the track in question was never a part of an LP release!). Hmm, but then on the other hand - perhaps they won't be. As I discovered after taking the time to switch off the computer, close the door and make myself comfortable with my brand new headphones carefully positioned. After double-checking that Left was at my left ear, and Right was at my right, I sat back and let the album shift into gear. Cringing at the possibilities of what was to come. The album is something of a contradiction in many ways. As all of the songs sound unique without sounding terribly different. The mood is at times bleak, and perhaps the tone is of a depressant nature. But Ian Curtis is a man who is singing what he feels. That much is apparent from the beginning. A victim of modern life, in the opening song ('Disorder') he seeks "the pleasures of a normal man". From the start we are launched into the weird and ominous world of a man who seems to be living on the edge. Tired of his position and seeking change. The first track is something of a "grower", just as Ian Curtis seems to be something you become acclimatized to over time. It may feel slightly uncomfortable to begin with - and you can never feel completely at ease with the bleak but profoundly beautiful poetic lyrics, but upon repeated listening it becomes something of a compulsion. Certain phrases, certain segments of each song, evokes feelings so powerful that it's worth listening to the album for the vocals alone. 'Day of the Lords' is the second track. And it is at this point that I begin to feel as though I'm onto something. A crunchy, fractured bass sings grimly with a tone that is not only unutterably saddening, but simultaneously uplifting. These are real emotions. The pace is that of a heartbeat, circulating a wide spectrum of feelings and urges. "Where will it end?" We'd like to know too, Ian. The album departs from 'Day of the Lords' with a series of interesting and appealing tracks. Some will stand out immediately as something which demands more attention. And I'm sure that many listeners will be perfectly willing to be as attentive as they please, to lavish it with all that it deserves. A 'grower' in every sense of the word, this record not only holds careful delicate lyrics, packaged within Ian Curtis' tentative, introspective voice. But also contains all manner of interesting drum loops, subtle electronic cues and utterly brilliant guitar work. Brilliant for its brutal yet beautiful simplicity, rather than complexity. Highlights of the album as a whole include 'Day of the Lord', 'New Dawn Fades' (White Stripes meets 80s Goth Culture), 'She's Lost Control' (written shortly after Ian discovered he was epileptic) and the multi-layered punk masterpiece that is 'Interzone' (inspired by a story by Curtis' subversive literary hero William S. Burroughs). An album worth appraising for the these songs alone, it is a record that will having you aimlessly jabbing at the repeat button again and again. Almost like a child watching a horror film with their hands over their eyes, scared to find out what's around the next corner. Not wanting to watch but utterly unable to turn away. 'Unknown Pleasures' is exactly what it proclaims to be. Not only are the songs included unknown until you've forked out the necessary lucre, but the album rewards tenfold. I find myself right now switching on 'She's Lost Control' as I write to you folks, and I can't believe how much the qualities of Ian Curtis' voice have evolved. To begin with it was alien and slightly intimidating, now it is the most human comfort I could ever consider. Cold yet warm, tense yet comforting, and with a history that would make Edgar Allen Poe cringe, it'll have you tapping your feet and privately pondering at the same time. (Which in today's even bleaker music scene, is a very rare occurence.) Before you know it you'll be begging all of your cynical so-called 'musical aficionado' friends to give it a spin. Probably the best album I have heard this year, I urge you to dig around those bargain bins in your nearby supermarket the next time you get the chance. An album which is a little daunting to think about, but utterly compelling upon first taste. An album as bleak as it is lively, as dour as it is fresh, an album of real emotion in its rawest, most awe-inspiring sense. A catalogue of 'Unknown Pleasures'. Yet, perhaps most importantly of all, an album that you won't be afraid to like.
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books  books and comics archive Author interviews and reviews from 2002 to 2008. film  film archive The best of cinema in the UK from 2002 to 2008. |
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