The Slits – In The Beginning There Was Rhythm (1980)
At the age of 15, Neneh Cherry was introduced to seminal feminist Post Punk group The Slits by her stepfather Don Cherry, and joined them for a brief period, providing backing vocals on several tracks, including this one. The Slits were integral to the early days of UK’s Punk scene, but they quickly became musically adventurous beyond that and incredibly funky as well, further aided by producer Dennis Bovell’s dub expertise. Edginess was rarely as charming, but The Slits had loads of attitude to boot. One can assume that Neneh Cherry took her clues from the experience.
Rip, Rig & Panic – Those Eskimo Women Speak Frankly (1981)
The next band Cherry joined was a Bristol collective that included two members of the legendary Pop Group. Their music was a feverish mix of Punk Funk, avantgarde elements and Jazz. As with The Slits, Don Cherry was a collaborator, but his stepdaughter was more to the core, switching to lead vocals and displaying the mixture of charismatic Soul and Rap stylings that would make her famous later on. But before that, Neneh Cherry briefly retired to become a young mother, and the band fell apart. In 1983 the band reformed with Neneh Cherry under the name Float Up CP, and released one album, then fell apart again. But if you find a band in those years with a constant line-up, it might have been dull anyway. Rip Rig & Panic sure were not.
Raw Sex, Pure Energy – Give Sheep A Chance (1982)
After collaborating with On-U Sound’s mighty New Age Steppers, Cherry teamed up with its bass guitarist George Oban and the drummer of 70s Fusion Jazz band Karma, Joe Blocker. They covered Edwin Starr’s Motown standard „Stop The War Now“ in reaction to the Falklands War, and „Give Sheep A Chance“ is its wonderful icy computerized dub version on the flip, sheep noises included. In the years leading up to the next entry, Neneh Cherry also became a pirate radio DJ, danced in a Big Audio Dynamite video, and duetted marvellously on The The’s „Slow Train To Dawn“.
Neneh Cherry – Buffalo Stance (1988)
Neneh Cherry, the pop star. Seven months pregnant with her second child but rampant with energy, she performed this ever infectious song on Top Of The Pops and stormed the top ten. „Buffalo Stance“ was referencing Malcolm McLaren’s Gals, stylist Ray Petri’s fashionable collective, and was in fact a cover version of a Stock, Aitken & Waterman produced single by her future husband Cameron McVey from two years earlier, where she already rapped about „Looking Good Diving With The Wild Bunch“ on the B-side. And the famed Bristol sound system was indeed involved with the accompanying „Raw Like Sushi“ solo debut album, as were McVey and Tim Simenon of Bomb The Bass fame at the controls. In 1988 Hip Hop and House still looked at each other and the UK club scene was vibrant, as documented by magazines like I-D, The Face and Blitz. Neneh Cherry was styled by Judy Blame and photographed by Jena-Baptiste Mondino rather iconically, but underlying were lyrics that dissed gigolos and moneymen and celebrated female self-esteem. So don’t you get fresh with her!
Neneh Cherry – Manchild (1988)
Neneh Cherry telling the boys some more news (albeit with a bit more sympathy), in a fantastic downtempo song co-written by Cameron McVey and Robert Del Naja AKA 3D of The Wild Bunch, and soon-to-be Massive Attack (fellow member of both Mushroom provided a booming remix). In the rather weird video she proudly sports her now born second child Tyson and a further refined fly girl outfit with a pair of cycle shorts that were de rigeur in 1989. Ok, men mostly wore the matching cycle tops. The „cause I believe in miracles, words in heavy doses“ ending still rules supreme.
Neneh Cherry – I’ve Got You Under My Skin (1990)
This a contribution to „Red, Hot & Blue“, an AIDS charity compilation on which several artists covered Cole Porter songs. AIDS was still spreading fast, and given the topic the title is very well picked, with Neneh Cherry rapping an introduction that makes it very clear that it is not only love creeping through the body, but also very lethal disease. The heavy and brooding downbeat groove already foreshadows Massive Attack’s „Blue Lines“ album, to which she would also contribute. The video by Mondino is appropriately dark, without any misplaced pretensions. „Share the love, don’t share the needle“, it ends.
Neneh Cherry – Buddy X (1992)
Lifted from her second album „Homebrew“, Cherry again adresses men that like to play around, wrapping her criticism of male hypocrisy and infidelity with fetching Hip Hop pressure. The song still features prominently in club playlists due to its Class A Masters At Works remixes. At the height of their powers they apply their raw swing to a groove that most successfully merges Hip Hop and House sophistication, without ever distracting from the message. Deadly dubs, too.
Youssou N’Dour & Neneh Cherry – 7 Seconds (1994)
Neneh Cherry collaborates with the famous Senegalese singer for a moving celebration of humanity without prejudice. By then the combination of a downbeat and dramatic strings had almost become stereotypical, but the trilingual „7 Seconds“ still proves why it became so efficient in the first place. First, you need a good song. Second, you need good performers. Third, you will see that the tried and tested arrangement will even up the ante. The stylish monochromatic video was directed by Stéphane Sednaoui, and it works.
Neneh Cherry & The Thing – Dream Baby Dream (2012)
Neneh Cherry works with a Scandinavian Jazz trio that named itself after her stepfather. She was a longtime Scandinavian resident and Jazz has a healthy tradition there, it should not have come as a surprise. But after a long hiatus from recording music, it was. The resulting album consisted mainly of well chosen cover versions that seem to stand for Cherry’s whole life in music. They are interpreted quite freely, and Cherry still delivers. Take her version of Suicide‘s No Wave classic „Dream Baby Dream“ for example. In my ears it rather sounds like her very early days than former pop star croons the standards for Christmas.
Neneh Cherry – Everything (2014)
The overdue comeback as solo performer, with an album of material that mourns the death of her mother in 2009. Four Tet is at the helm, and his sparse production focusses on rhythmic textures and subtle electronic arrangements, performed by Rocketnumbernine. The album decidedly neglects pop obligations and Neneh Cherry is evidently very motivated, and even if her songs here are very personal, they sure are engaging as well. The remixers on duty for „Everything“, Ricardo Villalobos and Max Loderbauer, must have agreed, as they already let the song seep into their trademark Micro House jam setup after only two and a half minutes.
Moral – Trees In November
Ajukaja & Andrevski – Mesilind
Walt J – Horns Of Plenty
KB Project – Feel It
Universo – Yebo
Lowtec – Man On Wire (Reconstruction)
K.A. Posse – Shake (Joe Smooth Mix)
Geena – Tone Loc
Mosey – Live A Little
Luca Lozano – DJ Fett Burger – Telegronn
PLO Man – Type Damascus
Shanti Celeste – Moods
Chaperone – All Your Emergencies
Boo Williams – Freaky
Donnie Tempo – Tazmanian Virus (Sims JFF Edit)
Harmonious Thelonious – Industrielle Muziek
Minor Science – Closing Acts
DJ Stingray 313 – Acetylcholine
KiNK – Vodolaz (Elektro Guzzi Version)
MD Jr. – Survival Of The Richest
Unspecified Enemies – Ms. 45
Merle – Mimi Likes 2 Dance
House Of Doors – Starcave
Superpanzer – Die Tollen, die nicht so Tollen, und die Häßlichen
Finn, what memories do you have of your first DJ set?
It was mostly playing records at school and private parties from the mid 80s on, playing a variety of Disco, Soul, Synthpop and Post Punk. I’d like to remember that as eclectic, but probably chaotic would be the more apt description. Actually my memories of my first forays into playing out in public are bit hazy by now. After all, that was nearly 30 years ago. What I vividly remember was a Soul allnighter in a basement club of my hometown of Kiel, in ’86 or ’87. Actually it was a whole Mod Weekender, with several events all across town. My friend Ralf Mehnert, who became a well respected Rare Soul collector and DJ, and me took over the Soul part of the proceedings, playing records for a crowd that consisted of mods and other hip folks, but predominatly drunk scooter boys. Somebody saw them standing outside, mistook them for skinheads, and alerted the most notorious local Turkish street gang. They arrived not much later, crashing the door and storming down the stairs, only to face quite a crowd of completely unimpressed heavy parka-clad folks. Ralf and me ducked away in the DJ booth and things got really messy. About 30 minutes later there was no intruder left and the party continued as if absolutely nothing had happened. There were numerous other similar experiences. Kiel was quite a tough city, probably still is.
Can you re-engineer what influence being a small town boy – born and raised in Kiel, in Northern Germany – had on your musical education?
I did not really feel limitations. There were record stores as Tutti Frutti or Blitz which were very well selected with electronic music of the 80s, Punk, and experimental stuff. And quite a number of second hand stores to choose from, where I mostly bought Soul, Disco and obscure 60s and 70s records. Some of those acquired bigger record collections from Danish libraries and sold each record for 2 Deutschmarks, regardless of format. I purchased the bulk of my Disco collection in those years, for example. You did not have to spend much, so you would explore what you would have otherwise not listened to. I had a lot of friends who were very interested in music, and there was a constant exchange of knowledge, good and bad finds. It was all very social. I made regular record shopping trips to Hamburg, too. There were plenty of excellent record shops there, for everything of interest to me. I always looked for dance music of any kind, and Hamburg had stores that were importing records since the Disco era. They had the contacts and the knowledge.
And as for the clubs?
I did not mind being in a smaller town either. There were quite a few. The DJs mostly did not mix much and played all over the board stylistically. There was a tendency to play music in topical blocks. A 30-minutes block of Disco, followed by a 30-minutes block of New Wave, then Hip Hop, then some Rock, then Soul, then slow songs, then everything all over again. Once a few tunes worked together and on the floor, the DJs tended to rely on the according selection and did not change it for what seemed to be years. That drove me mad, but in retrospect I could hear lots of different music in one single night, and that left a mark on me. You learn about the contexts of what you hear, and how they relate to each other. I still make use of that. I travelled a lot, and I have been to a great number of clubs in my life, but when I moved to Berlin I was already in my early 30s. I spent my formative years up North. I did not move because I had to get out either, I left because the job situation was difficult for me. If I would had found an interesting job at that time, I probably would have stayed. I still go back regularly, I have family and friends there, and I still miss the sea.
You were born into club life by the sets of Klaus Stockhausen at Front Club in Hamburg, when you were dancing the nights away at the age of 18. What made this experience so fundamentally alluring to you?
I started going to clubs in Kiel in the early 80s, 12 or 13 years old, then to Hamburg clubs only a few years later. Most clubs in Hamburg were not as different to Kiel as they maintained to be, but the people had arguably more style and the music was more specialized. You went to certain clubs for a certain kind of music. I had been to some gay clubs in Kiel before, but they seemed to be stuck with a soundtrack that had been tried and tested for years, classic Disco anthems and the occasional Schlager drama excursion, and the scene was not that open. You often felt like the stranger entering the saloon, and the crowd often was more made up by people with a common taste in music and fashion that just happened to be gay. A lot of 80s fops and some sugar daddies. It could be fun, but more often it was not. These people had to live with other prejudices and repressions than just getting beaten up for the style of the subculture you had chosen for yourself, like I did, and you did not belong.
And Front Club was different?
Absolutely. When a friend took me to the Front Club in early 1987 that was dramatically different. The crowd was predominantly gay, but if you were not, like me, nobody seemed to care. I was aware of the major role gay subculture played in the evolution of dance music, mostly by reading features about legendary Disco clubs in magazines, but they were about Bianca on that horse for instance, and not about what was booming from the speakers as she rode in, which was exactly what interested me most. Front was the first club where I could actually experience it, and even be a part of it. And Klaus Stockhausen was the first DJ I ever heard who did not only play records, he mixed them. Like no other I heard ever since. It was not that I did not know any of the music before, but he was transforming the records into something else. And the club itself was incredibly intense, I have never witnessed something like that again either. A dark, gritty basement filled to the brim with extravagant people who completely lost their minds on the floor. And my first visits were coincidentally a good timing, because it was the transitional period between the music played there from 83 on, and House. House was introduced there much earlier, but it still was not ruling the playlist. It was brilliant to hear Stockhausen play favourites I loved from the years before, and more often records I never heard, and then the added early Chicago House sounds that seemed to have swallowed decades of dance music history only to spit them out as this raw, primitive version of it. It fit the club perfectly, and soon I was heading over to Hamburg on weekends as much as I could, because I simply could not get enough of the experience. That lasted until around 1995, and then I took up a residency in Kiel for almost ten years, and it kept me well occupied. But just think of all the incredible music released between 1987 and 1995. It really were the blink and miss years of what we still hear today, and I could be witnessing all crucial developments right on the floor, played by the best DJs, and dancing to it in the best club with the best crowd. Good times.
When did you start collecting records? During those blink and miss years?
No, much earlier. The little money I had I spent on records since I was about 6 years old. My parents gave me a record player, and the Forever Elvis compilation, plus radio and cassette recorder and they were my favourite toys by then. Especially the radio was very important. I spent endless hours recording music from the radio, cursing presenters for talking too much over songs I liked. And the hit music played on the radio in the mid 70s was just great. Chic and Roxy Music were probably my favourite bands. And all those weird and wonderful Glam Rock acts. But luckily enough I had also a chance to catch the music from early on that was not deemed fit for airplay. I had an uncle who had the idea to buy record collections at judicial sales, and he often gave me the records he did not like. Thus I could become the proud owner of Can’s Monster Movie or the first Suicide album and several obscure Soul albums when most of my classmates were still just listening to the charts. I know this sounds terribly made up, but it is the truth. And at a very young age you tend to play your favourite records over and over and over, your relationship to music is very intimate and deep. Soon I felt quite confident in my taste, and I was spending more and more time and money on music. But I actually had not the faintest idea how much great music there really was out there to discover, and I had yet to meet the right people to share my passion for it. That changed as soon as I could sneak my way into clubs. Read the rest of this entry »
This is a mix for all you big-heads out there who think disco music is lower than the irrelevant musical gibberish and tired platitudes that you try to impress your parents with…
We’re The Druffalo Hit Squad, we’re much cleverer than you and this is Druffmix 49.
Nick Heyward – When It Started To Begin Blue Rondo A La Turk – Klactoveesedstein David Byrne – Big Business Family 5 – Traumvers Yello – Base For Alec Human League – The Sound Of The Crowd Die Krupps – Goldfinger Soft Cell – Bedsitter Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark – Enola Gay Spoons – Nova Heart Hilary – Kinetic Human League – Dance Like A Star Vicious Pink – 8:15 To Nowhere Heaven 17 – We Live So Fast Electric Light Orchestra – Yours Truly 2095 Yello – Alan Rankine – The World Begins To Look Her Age Wilson Pickett – Groove City Lipps Inc. – Choir Practice Cut Glass – Without Your Love Richie – Trying It On Peter Jacques Band – Fly With The Wind Dislocation Dance – Show Me Spandau Ballet – Only When You Leave Mari Wilson – Let’s Make This Last The Associates – Take Me To The Girl Comateens – The Late Mistake The Christians – Forgotten Town Suicide – Dream Baby Dream
In discussion with Hardrock Striker on “I’m A Cult Hero” (1989).
Do you have a past acquainted with this music? Is this the compilation that nailed down musical preferences you already had, or did you have a different background and were you just looking for something in that direction?
This is clearly the music I was listening to as a kid. Back then, my biggest dream was to be in a rock’n’roll band, no way I wanted to become a DJ (“what a joke I could have thought”) as this meant nothing to me, imagine playing guitar and being on stage screaming in front of a crazy crowd or mixing records, even a monkey could do it! Obviously, it’s only when I started DJing that I understood the power of it and realized my immaturity.
I chose this compilation because even if it looks like a pure rock record, many of the bands inside are using electronic, though I had no clue about it while I was listening to them. I discovered house in Los Angeles in the late 90’s, I went there to form a heavy rock band but I ended up going out with some friends who were doing house, especially Peter Black who introduced me to Doc Martin, the Wax connection, DJ Harvey. We started being friends, speaking about art, music and I discovered that he was also into New Order, Front 242, Ministry, Echo and the Bunnymen, Joy Division and that he was doing house too, so I thought this music finally wasn’t that bad! I started digging, to sum it up, New Order leads me to italo, italo to chicago, chicago to techno. We did a record company called Parisonic / Square Roots where I was doing reissues (already in 2003) of obscure stuff such as It Ain’t Chicago’s “Ride The Rhythm”, Mickey Oliver “In-Ten-Si-t”, Ralphi Rosario “In The Night” etc. I educated myself through the records I was putting out.
“I’m A Cult Hero” is a bootleg compilation with 80’s dark synth pop music, originally released in 1989. Why do you think such a record was released at a time when acid house ruled the clubs? Was this a reminder to what was going on a few years before, or even a counter-reaction to what followed? What might have been the motivation of the label to do this record?
I think that even if house and acid were blowing up at that time, dark synth-pop and minimal wave were still huge. Remember in 1989, Depeche Mode was also on the verge of getting the biggest rock stars in the world with the 101 Rose Bowl concert and the release of one of the best trio of singles of the 80’s: “Strangelove”, “Behind The Wheel” (Mmmh, the Shep Pettibone Mix!) and “Personal Jesus” which was a combination of rock guitars and electronic so it makes totally sense.
The motivation of these guys was primarily cash I guess but I honestly think they did an amazing job! There are two categories of bootleggers: the creative ones and the thieves, I guess they belong to the first one. Read the rest of this entry »
Doctor Mix And The Remix – Out of the Question (1979)
A lot of the music we’ve picked out to discuss comes from a similar background in terms of time period, style and sound, but I think this one is pretty obscure. How did you find it?
Through a friend of mine. There’s a label in New York called Acute Records maybe eight years ago or so. A few of my friends in California are really obsessed with The Jesus and Mary Chain, and one of the members of the band mentioned once that this was one of their favourite records of all time. The thing I like about it is the extremity of the music. It’s super high-pitched, with distortion and tinny drum machines but then it’s covers of, like, Stooges songs.
This track in particular has this really insane, rhythmic track that’s super metronomic but super heavy at the same time. It’s very aggressive, but not because of the levels of distortion. The first time I heard it I thought I was listening to [The Jesus and Mary Chain’s] Psycho Candy. The more I looked into it, the more I realized how much of an influence it had on them.
It’s funny. The Jesus and Mary Chain were always compared to The Velvet Underground, but apparently there’s much more to it than that.
Sure. There’s not a lot of stuff like this. The guy was in one of the first French punk bands. And, with this, they kind of combined the attitude of the Velvets with these misinterpretations from a different country. I love that because, for me, techno in California was always a misinterpretation of what was happening in Berlin and Detroit and Chicago just because we didn’t really have a big scene. We had a club scene, but not a techno scene. I just really love the weird interpretations of The Stooges and stuff like that.
Are you interested in bands that deconstruct rock tradition in some way?
At the end of the day it’s all about attitude. Willing to push things a lot and not really care. It was the same when I first heard Cabaret Voltaire’s “Messages Received.” I just didn’t know what to say, I was blown away. I thought, “It doesn’t get any more honest than that.” I think that’s the whole thing. There’s an honesty in the music that you can’t remove. There’s a visceral element to it. That’s how myself, Karl [O’Connor], Dave [Sumner] and even Pete [Sutton] interpret music in some way I think.
Cabaret Voltaire – Messages Received (1980)
There was a very heavy art slant on what Cabaret Voltaire did. I think it’s very, very art driven. They’d also have the influence of The Velvet Underground and all that ’60s psych rock, but they’d do all these awesome records and what came through the most was the attitude. “This is what I wanna do, this is how I’m gonna do it.” And they just went for it.
Is that a quality you try to pursue? Not thinking about what you can or can’t do?
Yeah, I talk to Karl every other day on the telephone, we’re in very heavy contact on a weekly basis, same thing with Dave. But it’s funny because when I make music it’s purely to see what he thinks, just for us to discuss… “Oh, I really like this. What do you think?” It’s more a conversation from an art base. I try to work in a very automatic response way. I work in art direction, so I work quite a bit on TV commercials and magazines and stuff like that. So when I work on music it’s usually very late at night and I have to work in headphones, so it’s usually like a weird mantra type state, kinda conscious and unconscious, while I’m working.
It’s nice because there’s a sense that I’m not really thinking about anything particularly. I’m able to work on music in that mindframe where I’m doing it purely just because I want to see what I can come up with. In a more artistic sense, sometimes I will make a visual and we will work to the visual. Like with the artwork for the album. That was made first. Then we made a record that matched that.
For labels like Factory, design labels were incredibly important. They were, in many cases, as important as the music.
When you get that double impact of visual and audio, you’re like, “Wow, this is really intense.” Cabaret Voltaire for me has always done that. All the artwork on their covers. The early ones especially had that handmade element, which I’m sure was some of the guys in the band literally cutting things out by hand and assembling collages. Read the rest of this entry »
Im Gespräch mit Marcel Dettmann über “Ich und die Wirklichkeit” von Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft (1981).
Die entscheidende Frage zuerst, wie bist Du zu DAF gekommen?
Ich komme aus dem Ostteil Deutschlands, und nachdem man zu DDR-Zeiten nur Depeche Mode, Madonna oder Prince hatte, die richtig dicken Pop-Acts, kam kurz nach der Wende ein ganzer Schwall von Musik, wie z. B. auch DAF, Throbbing Gristle oder Front 242, später auch Nitzer Ebb. Der Bruder eines Freundes von mir hat uns ständig mit CDs ausgerüstet, da war ich 12, und habe das erste Mal DAF gehört und fand das total verrückt.
Du hattest vorher nie von ihnen gehört?
Nein. Ich hatte vorher Ultravox, Erasure oder Depeche Mode gehört. Poppige Sachen. Und dann kamen DAF oder auch Nitzer Ebb, was ja artverwandt ist, sie waren ja quasi die englische Version von DAF. Wir hörten „Der Räuber und der Prinz“ und „Der Mussolini“ auch im Jugendclub, der von vier Uhr nachmittags bis abends um zehn offen hatte. Dort wurde in Runden gespielt, eine Runde für die Hip-Hopper, eine Runde für die Elektronikleute usw. Read the rest of this entry »
Im Gespräch mit Tobias Freund über “Take Away/The Lure Of Salvage” von Andy Partridge (1980).
Auf Deiner Myspace-Seite steht, dass Du seit 1980 Musiker bist, das Jahr also, in dem “Take Away/The Lure Of Salvage” erschien. Ich nehme an, Du warst schon früh ein Fan von XTC?
Die erste Platte von XTC hab ich 1979 entdeckt, „Go 2“. Ich lebte damals in Frankfurt am Main und bin mit meinem Freund öfters nach der Schule in einen Plattenladen nach Offenbach gefahren. Es war einer der einzigen Läden zu der Zeit, der neue außergewöhnliche Platten verkaufte. Ich erinnere mich, dass es immer total spannend war in den Laden zu fahren, man hat immer irgendetwas Neues, Unbekanntes gefunden. Neben XTC hab ich unter anderem das „Black And White“-Album der Stranglers entdeckt, auch eine meiner damaligen Lieblingsplatten. Mich hat immer sehr das Artwork einer Platte angesprochen, ich hab mir des Öfteren platten “blind” gekauft, allein weil mir das Cover gefallen hat. Meistens bin ich nicht enttäuscht worden. Bei „Go 2“ war es genau so, das Cover hat mich gleich fasziniert, noch heute finde ich es eines der besten Artworks, simpel und effektiv. Weiße Schrift auf schwarzem Untergrund über die ganze Vorder- und Rückseite. In dem Text wird das Artwork erklärt und der Leser wird manipuliert die platte zu kaufen. Ich habe die Idee des Covers für die nsi.-Veröffentlichungen auf meinem Label Non Standard Productions aufgegriffen. Allerdings nur das Layout, Courier ist seitdem für mich der Punk unter den Fonts.
Waren XTC eine typische Band dieser frühen Post Punk-Phase, oder waren sie einzigartig?
Für mich waren XTC einzigartig, sie waren frischer, witziger und haben sich nicht zu ernst genommen, außerdem sind es unglaublich gute Musiker. Sie haben sich mehr getraut gewohnte Strukturen aufzubrechen, auf ihren Platten gab es immer Experimente. Zum Beispiel konnte Andy Partridge seine Stimme wie ein Instrument einsetzen, er hat versucht jedem Lied eine eigene Note zu geben, zornig, verrückt oder hysterisch. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Ken Vulsion on “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division (1980).
How did you first come across “Love Will Tear Us Apart”? Was it love at first sight the time it was originally released, or did you get to know it later on?
I grew up in a sleepy part of New York State. There was little access to new, alternative music there in the 80’s. Every Tuesday there was a New Wave radio show on the Ithaca College radio station, the DJ was Mike Weidner. He played “Love Will Tear Us Apart” on that show, which I recorded to cassette. This would have been in 1981 or 82. It was love at first listen.
The song is generally considered to be one of the best songs ever written. Did you have the notion that this song is exceptional, or was it just another song you liked very much?
It is exceptional. The newness and truth has never faded.
It seems that a lot of people attach very personal feelings to “Love Will Tear Us Apart”? Is it the same with you? Does the song offer more ties with the listener than others?
I was 18 and in a doomed love affair at the time, so it is full of associations – though I can now enjoy it as a perfect pop object, without feeling heart torn.
Would you say that “Love Will Tear Us Apart” is a perfect pop song in terms of composition? Is the music just catchy or does it also have other, maybe even more significant qualitities?
I think at its core there is a perfect piece of pop craft. But it is the execution that it is so unique. Just compare the original to Paul Young’s version (which I also like for my own perverse reasons!).
What place does “Love Will Tear Us Apart” hold in the works of Joy Division? Was it the exception to the rule or a logical consequence?
Certainly a standout, though I certainly have new favourites. When Anton Corbijn’s film “Control” came out I got really into Joy Division again, such a great little film. The same when “24 Hour Party People” came out, there were some songs that really stood out (another great pop music movie!!).
Would you like more music to sound this complex, meaning that a song can be sad, beautiful and wonderful at the same time?
Yes!
Of course it is absolutely not possible to separate the song from Ian Curtis. A lot of the fascination of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” lies within his personality, and the way he sings about these very intimate problems affecting his life. Yet it seems other of his lyrics are hinting more at the trouble he was really going through than these. How much of the song’s power actually stems from listeners relating to this analysis of a dysfunctional relationship, and how much stems from the legend surrounding his early death? Or is it both?
I wasn’t aware of Joy Division until after Ian’s death. Some of the lyrics (i.e. ‘were my failings exposed’) got into my head because of my own confusion in dealing with a first, difficult love and suicidal feelings. Ian’s own suicide amplifies every word.
Do you think that the song’s lyrics contain more hints at other of his problems than the description of his disintegrating marriage? Or are such interpretations just the consequence of his early death?
Some of his biography was unknown to me then (his struggle with epilepsy). Back then I was into the song, but not a “fan”….I didn’t own a Joy Division t-shirt.
A lot of Joy Divison’s legacy seems to based on him being handsome and charismatic, his distinctive voice and of course his actual suicide. Thus he became his generation’s prime example of the tortured artist. Is this unfairly neglecting his true abilities as an artist? And is his status just based on the fact that he died, or is there more to it? Was he as gifted as he was tragic?
I think the work holds up regardless, same with Kurt Cobain or River Phoenix. The ‘twice as bright’ flame club.
I always felt that “Love Will Tear Us Apart” is already part New Order part Joy Division, even if at the time it was written there was of course only Joy Division. Do you think the band could have made a change of direction musically towards a less darker sound if Ian Curtis would have lived on, or was the sound of Joy Divison always dependent on its singer’s condition?
The sound lived on and evolved. “Your Silent Face” by New Order is an interesting bookend to “Love Will Tear Us Apart” Softer vocal, sleeker production, but still that raw sad emotion.
I always found it very impressive how the rest of the band decided to carry on without him. At first they still clinged to the previous band but then they really re-invented themselves. Did you feel they had the potential to achieve this around the time it became clear that they would not stop?
New Order existed by the time I first heard “Love Will Tear Us Apart” so that timeline doesn’t exist for me. I may have bought the Arthur Baker version of “Confusion” before the 7″ of “Love Will Tear Us Apart”.
Tony Wilson, the head of Factory Records, was at first very concerned that Bernard Sumner would take up the part of the singer. But then he managed to develop a performer persona of his own, and the band did so, too. Do you think this was out of defiance, or was it out of trust in their own abilities? Or did it just evolve?
At the time I was singing lead vocals in a few bands (Identity Confusion and XOX were two of them LOL). I had an almost distorted confidence. I was shy, but defiant enough to get up in front of a small town crowd in leather jeans. Defiance can be a great motivator.
Since then, both Joy Division and New Order built up a legendary status in music history. Do you think their legacy can be told apart, or are they one and the same in the pop music’s canon by now, just with different phases?
Since everything happened so fast, the bands will always be connected.
Apparently Joy Division underwent a severe crisis due to Curtis’ condition. Do you think it could have happened that the others would have continued without him anyway?
Hard to say. Crisis is part of the band dynamic usually.
Are their elements of New Order that still owe to Joy Division, apart from being the succeeding band?
Maybe they were able to use the death as an opportunity to shift into a new direction.
On the other hand, would Ian Curtis have done a seminal track like “Blue Monday”?
I wonder if he was much into dance music. He was a very interesting dancer.
If “Love Will Tear Us Apart” is the timeless classic in Joy Division’s back catalogue, what would be New Order’s?
For sure “Blue Monday”. It’s perfection. And the record is a perfect object, just like “Love Will Tear Us Apart”. The sleeve designs by Peter Saville are sublime. He was as much a rock star to me back then as Ian.
Do you think it would be possible that another band would write a song similar to “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, and it would become as lasting, or will this history not repeat itself?
I live for new music that affects me as much. So, yes!
Can you still remember the first time you ever heard Kraftwerk?
Yes. I think the first time I heard them I was 17 years old, in England, recording an album for Island Records with the band I was in at the time, Milk n Cookies. I heard the song “Autobahn” on the radio there and remember thinking how different and cool it sounded than anything else out there. I bought a copy of the 7″ while I was there.
What made you decide for “Computer World” out of the many legendary albums? Do you agree with many critics and fans that they were at there creative peak with this?
Although I love all their albums, “Computer World” for me was just the best. Perfect in every way. I totally agree that this was their “masterpiece”.
Es gibt sicherlich etliche Wege um auf die Musik von Soft Cell zu stoßen. Wie war es bei Dir?
“Tainted Love” kam ja im Sommer 1981 raus und hat mich, als ich es im Radio gehört habe, sofort fasziniert. Das stach irgendwie heraus. Ähnlich wie früher “I Feel Love” oder Kraftwerk. Das machte im Hit-Radio plötzlich eine ganz neue Welt auf. Zwar gab es schon Bands, die ähnlich agierten und klangen, aber die waren zumindest in Österreich nur in Spezialsendungen wie “Musicbox” zu hören. Aber Soft Cell konnte ich sogar vor dem Weg in die Schule beim Frühstück aus dem Radio hören. Das ist ja auch etwas anderes, als wenn du dir selber Musik auflegst. Solche Pop-Momente kannst du nicht selber initiieren. “Tainted Love” war dann auch die erste Single, die ich mir wirklich mit so einem nicht mehr ganz so schwammigen Pop-Bewusstsein gekauft habe. Das war ein regelrechter Akt. Sonst hab ich entweder auf die LPs gewartet oder mir die Sachen einfach vom Radio aufgenommen. Dann kam “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret”. Allein der Titel zog mich an. Der hatte so was Verruchtes, aber auch so einen Gossenglamour, der gut zu meinen sonstigen Vorlieben (Throbbing Gristle, D.A.F., Velvet Underground, Prince, Suicide, The Stooges) passte. Ausschlaggebend war dann die “Sounds”-Kritik von Kid P., wo über “Vaudeville-Tingel-Tangel”, “grelle Schminke und grosse Gefühle”, “kleine Hollywood-Dramen”, “keine saubere Teeny-Fun-Musik” geschrieben wurde. Interessanterweise gab es die LP dann in dem einzigen Laden in Salzburg, der eine kleine Abteilung mit “Punk”/”New Wave” hatte, nicht. Also ging ich in ein klassisches Plattengeschäft, wo ich die LP dann auch gleich fand. Was ja auch toll war. Komische Platten in komischen Läden kaufen ist das eine, komische Platten in sozusagen “normalen” Läden kaufen ist schon was anderes. Das hat durchaus was leicht Subversives. Gerade weil es um eine dezidierte Pop-Platte ging, die ich nun quasi heimlich in einem anderen Laden kaufte. Etwa so wie wenn das Päckchen, das auf dem Cover Marc Almond aus seiner Lederjacke zieht, abgeholt werden würde.
Warum hast Du Dir “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret” ausgesucht? Was macht das Album für Dich so besonders?
So pathetisch das jetzt auch klingen mag: Ich habe damit endgültig das Land Pop betreten. Und zwar im Hier und Jetzt. Die Wege dorthin waren schon angelegt worden, aber so aktuell Girl-Groups, Phil Spector, Glam, die Walker Brothers, Frank Sinatra und Dean Martin für mich damals auch waren, so sehr tönten sie dennoch aus einer Pop-Vergangenheit. Und bei Soft Cell kam einfach ganz viel zusammen. Vieles, was noch in einer Art wabbrigem Vorbewussten schlummerte, wurde nun klarer und konnte auch benannt werden. Aber es gab auch viel Neues zu entdecken. Sachen, die erst später wichtiger wurden wie Almonds Queerness oder die Connections zur Industrial-Szene. Auch wenn das 1981/82 nicht wirklich im Focus meiner Begeisterung war. Da war es das Opulente plus dem Elektronischen, die durchgängige Tanzbarkeit (die ich nicht erwartet hatte) und dieses Geheimnisvolle. Popmusik mit einer gewissen sublimen Gefährlichkeit. Eher Shangri-Las plus Velvet Underground. Die Platte hat sich durch Jahre hindurch immer wieder fast von selber retroaktiviert und wuchert immer noch über sich selbst hinaus. Auch wenn ich mal länger Abstinenz gehalten habe, hat sich dennoch was getan. Mit Soft Cell hab ich mich dann auch endgütig den großen Pop-Dramen und den in Musik gegossenen Tragödien hingegeben. Was nicht immer auf Verständnis stoß. Aber war mir auch immer Roy Orbison lieber als Nick Cave. Ich hatte durch und mit Soft Cell einen Schatz gefunden, eine Art Geheimnis entdeckt. Die Beschäftigung mit Pop nahm ernsthaftere Züge an. Zudem wollte ich ja auch irgendwie kapieren von was Leute wie Diederichsen bei “Sounds” schrieben, wenn es um so was wunderbar Faszinierendes wie auch hin und wieder Einschüchterndes wie “Pop-Diskurs” ging. Gerade weil Soft Cell überall in den Hitparaden waren und aus fast jedem Radio tönten, also auch vom Mainstream gehört wurden, empfand ich mein clandestines Popgeheimwissen in Sachen Soft Cell schon als Hipness. Weniger im Sinne einer elitären Haltung – ich freute mich ja mit anderen, und dachte auch, jetzt wird es was in Sachen Pop und Revolution, wenn auch nur musikalisch – als eines elitären Wissens. Vielleicht ist das ja auch das immer noch Wichtige an “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret”: Eine Platte die genau zwischen Teenage und Adoleszenz, zwischen einfach als Fan reinfallen und beginnendem reflexiven Popdenken auf einen zugekommen ist. Mit der es aber auch nie ein Erwachsenwerden geben wird. Wo das Aufgekratzte, nach dem Uplifting, nach der Party zwar reduziert, aber nie ad acta gelegt wird. Zudem waren Soft Cell die einzigen, die das ABBA-T-Shirt von Throbbing Gristles Chris Carter ernstgenommen haben.
Dass ich eigene Lost Weekend-Erfahrungen in “Clubland” in Songs wie “Bedsitter” wieder fand, war aber auch super.
Recent Comments