Thou shalt not covet
This fall, Anton Corbijn's long-awaited film about the life and times of Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis, Control, will finally see release. Between 1977 and 1980, Curtis and his Joy Division bandmates delivered two classic albums, Unknown Pleasures and Closer, and several indelible singles ("Transmission", "Atmosphere", "Love Will Tear Us Apart"). Curtis, an epileptic whose condition was worsened by the stresses of a rock and roll lifestyle and a collapsing marriage, killed himself at age 23 on the eve of the band's first American tour; the rest of the group went on to form New Order.
Control caps a peak in the Joy Division nostalgia boom that began with the revival of the post-punk sound by acts like The Strokes and Interpol and the subsequent release of Michael Winterbottom's Tony Wilson/Factory Records biopic, 24 Hour Party People. Certainly Joy Division wasn't rescued from obscurity per se; the critical and commercial success of New Order coupled with the particulars of Ian Curtis' demise ensured that the band's legacy would endure at some level. Yet it's clear that the band's influence hasn't been this pervasive since the 1980s, with Curtis himself seeming of late to hopscotch Kurt Cobain as the martyr-suicide du jour.
Attempts to commercially exploit this renewed interest in Joy Division have been strangely absent to this point; even as New Order has rolled out two new studio albums and several (mostly redundant) comps this decade, JD product has been limited to spartan CD editions of the aforementioned Unknown Pleasures and Closer; posthumous odds-and-sods comp Still, excellent 7 and 12-inch roundup Substance; and the botched best-of, Permanent. There has also been an overview box set, Heart and Soul; a collection of BBC recordings; and two recently issued live albums of dubious audio quality, Preston 28 February 1980 and the superior Les Bains Douches 18 December 1979. Of course, the market is also flooded with all manner of bootlegs, demos and other such ephemera, most prominently recordings made by the band in their embryonic stage when they were still known as Warsaw (they changed the name when it was suggested that posters for gigs could be mistaken for travel adverts).
The release of Control changes all of that. Most obviously (and inessentially) comes the soundtrack album for the film, featuring new compositions from New Order; tracks from JD influences such as David Bowie, The Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, The Sex Pistols, and Roxy Music; Joy Division originals "Dead Souls", "Love Will Tear Us Apart", and "Atmosphere"; the cast's take on "Transmission"; and a possibly unfortunate cover of "Shadowplay" by The Killers. As an aural accompaniment to the film, the track selection appears to be pretty choice, if not precisely earth-shattering; as a stand-alone album, it seems that most Joy Division fans, which I assume will make up the film's core audience (at least in America), would already by pretty well steeped in this musical milieu - if you're not, well, get thee to record store and buy Low, The Idiot, and Never Mind the Bollocks.
More promising then is the planned October 30th reissue of Unknown Pleasures, Closer, and Still as 2-disc sets, each backed by a previously unreleased live set (no mean feat, considering how picked over the Joy Division vaults must be right now). Unknown Pleasures and Closer are canonical records, and the idea that they have been allowed to languish in their original masters while Speak & Spell and The Top get lavish 2 CD editions is pretty perverse, even if you think of the whole reissue trend as nothing but grave-robbing and extortion. The inclusion of Still in the reissue campaign indicates that it is considered by the executors of the band's recorded legacy as part of the official, original discography; a much-maligned attempt to stem the tide of bootlegs that flooded the market following Curtis' death, the record functions more as a monument to the group than a coherent album.
The "For Fans Only" highlight of this cornucopia is the reissue of Unknown Pleasures, Closer, and Still in their original incarnations on 180-gram virgin vinyl. I am not one of those people who believe that everything necessarily sounds better on vinyl, but is important to note that Joy Division's albums were initially created with the physical constraints and possibilities of the medium in mind. How will the bands' cold, distant sound, seemingly tailor made for digital ones-and-zeroes, translate to the ostensibly warmer sound of vinyl? Listening would certainly be a more proactive experience, with the requirement that the record be flipped from side A to side B drawing out the album's underlying themes, highlighting the rationale behind the track listing (something regrettably absent in the CD era) and aiding the listener's understanding of the record's psychological topography. Perhaps, though, the greatest pleasure will be the opportunity to see Peter Saville's remarkable sleeve designs as they were originally intended: the iconic dying pulsar of Unknown Pleasures, the portrait of an Italian family tomb on Closer (this sleeve was criticized as a crass attempt to cash in on Ian Curtis' death, though the design was settled upon while he was still alive), and the stately clothbound sleeve of Still.
Each of these records, reissued by Rhino, may be obtained separately: roughly $18 a piece for Unknown Pleasures and Closer and $50 for Still (ostensibly the original sleeve effect is reproduced on the reissue, thus explaining such a princely sum for a two LP set). Or, in what I can only hope is a nod to Factory Record's legendary commitment to opulence in design, you can have all three albums together in a special limited edition box designed by Peter Saville. Cost: $200. That's right, you could have all three records separately for under $90, or you could spend an extra $110 and get a cloth covered box as well. That is, a cloth covered box strictly limited to 2,000 pieces, with none to be manufactured in the future.
Somewhere, Tony Wilson is smiling.
Control caps a peak in the Joy Division nostalgia boom that began with the revival of the post-punk sound by acts like The Strokes and Interpol and the subsequent release of Michael Winterbottom's Tony Wilson/Factory Records biopic, 24 Hour Party People. Certainly Joy Division wasn't rescued from obscurity per se; the critical and commercial success of New Order coupled with the particulars of Ian Curtis' demise ensured that the band's legacy would endure at some level. Yet it's clear that the band's influence hasn't been this pervasive since the 1980s, with Curtis himself seeming of late to hopscotch Kurt Cobain as the martyr-suicide du jour.
Attempts to commercially exploit this renewed interest in Joy Division have been strangely absent to this point; even as New Order has rolled out two new studio albums and several (mostly redundant) comps this decade, JD product has been limited to spartan CD editions of the aforementioned Unknown Pleasures and Closer; posthumous odds-and-sods comp Still, excellent 7 and 12-inch roundup Substance; and the botched best-of, Permanent. There has also been an overview box set, Heart and Soul; a collection of BBC recordings; and two recently issued live albums of dubious audio quality, Preston 28 February 1980 and the superior Les Bains Douches 18 December 1979. Of course, the market is also flooded with all manner of bootlegs, demos and other such ephemera, most prominently recordings made by the band in their embryonic stage when they were still known as Warsaw (they changed the name when it was suggested that posters for gigs could be mistaken for travel adverts).
The release of Control changes all of that. Most obviously (and inessentially) comes the soundtrack album for the film, featuring new compositions from New Order; tracks from JD influences such as David Bowie, The Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, The Sex Pistols, and Roxy Music; Joy Division originals "Dead Souls", "Love Will Tear Us Apart", and "Atmosphere"; the cast's take on "Transmission"; and a possibly unfortunate cover of "Shadowplay" by The Killers. As an aural accompaniment to the film, the track selection appears to be pretty choice, if not precisely earth-shattering; as a stand-alone album, it seems that most Joy Division fans, which I assume will make up the film's core audience (at least in America), would already by pretty well steeped in this musical milieu - if you're not, well, get thee to record store and buy Low, The Idiot, and Never Mind the Bollocks.
More promising then is the planned October 30th reissue of Unknown Pleasures, Closer, and Still as 2-disc sets, each backed by a previously unreleased live set (no mean feat, considering how picked over the Joy Division vaults must be right now). Unknown Pleasures and Closer are canonical records, and the idea that they have been allowed to languish in their original masters while Speak & Spell and The Top get lavish 2 CD editions is pretty perverse, even if you think of the whole reissue trend as nothing but grave-robbing and extortion. The inclusion of Still in the reissue campaign indicates that it is considered by the executors of the band's recorded legacy as part of the official, original discography; a much-maligned attempt to stem the tide of bootlegs that flooded the market following Curtis' death, the record functions more as a monument to the group than a coherent album.
The "For Fans Only" highlight of this cornucopia is the reissue of Unknown Pleasures, Closer, and Still in their original incarnations on 180-gram virgin vinyl. I am not one of those people who believe that everything necessarily sounds better on vinyl, but is important to note that Joy Division's albums were initially created with the physical constraints and possibilities of the medium in mind. How will the bands' cold, distant sound, seemingly tailor made for digital ones-and-zeroes, translate to the ostensibly warmer sound of vinyl? Listening would certainly be a more proactive experience, with the requirement that the record be flipped from side A to side B drawing out the album's underlying themes, highlighting the rationale behind the track listing (something regrettably absent in the CD era) and aiding the listener's understanding of the record's psychological topography. Perhaps, though, the greatest pleasure will be the opportunity to see Peter Saville's remarkable sleeve designs as they were originally intended: the iconic dying pulsar of Unknown Pleasures, the portrait of an Italian family tomb on Closer (this sleeve was criticized as a crass attempt to cash in on Ian Curtis' death, though the design was settled upon while he was still alive), and the stately clothbound sleeve of Still.
Each of these records, reissued by Rhino, may be obtained separately: roughly $18 a piece for Unknown Pleasures and Closer and $50 for Still (ostensibly the original sleeve effect is reproduced on the reissue, thus explaining such a princely sum for a two LP set). Or, in what I can only hope is a nod to Factory Record's legendary commitment to opulence in design, you can have all three albums together in a special limited edition box designed by Peter Saville. Cost: $200. That's right, you could have all three records separately for under $90, or you could spend an extra $110 and get a cloth covered box as well. That is, a cloth covered box strictly limited to 2,000 pieces, with none to be manufactured in the future.
Somewhere, Tony Wilson is smiling.
