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DISTRACTIONS FOR THE TROOP
(Re-listening to Closer, before going out to see Control)
(“I was well aware, while we were composing it (from November '78 to November '79) that the music transcended the composition—and the composers. It was as if, no matter how much we tried to be original, we were somehow responsible for the re-assembly of something that already existed in a collective unconscious—grasping fragments from the ether instinctively, and using our art to put them in the 'right' order...”—S. Moxham, Young Marble Giants, 1993).
At its best moments, Joy Division, which indeed consists of four elements, sounds like four distinct pieces, separated by a great void (or, since it's about sounds, by a great silence): like four slashes on a canvas by Lucio Fontana. Slashes, because the sounds of what is ironically called Joy Division evoke sensations that from a tactile or visual point of view are adequately described by the ideas of wound, breakage. (Ironically, because, as everyone knows, Joy Division was, at least according to legend, the battalion of prostitutes attached to each German division in '39-'45, tasked, of course, with keeping the troops' morale high. In a recent film that talks about the Division, for choosing this name, a journalist accuses Steve Coogan, or Tony Wilson, owner of their label, of subliminal Nazism, and Tony Wilson gets angry, as if! we also have a band called Durruti Column! so are we fascists or communists? have you ever heard of Dadaism? situationism?, not even he, probably, knowing very well what he was talking about).
To achieve this outcome Joy Division used, at least concerning string instruments (electric guitar and bass guitar), sounds that had become trendy during its peak period, with the advent, due to the energy and economic crisis of the seventies, the ebb of the illusions that flourished in the previous decade and other contingencies (Margaret Thatcher, etc.), of the so-called nihilistic dadaist fashion punk.
Deep and distorted bass, distorted and compressed guitar like the noise of jackhammers under the bedroom window that explodes suddenly in the morning silence and forces you to wake up. As mentioned, however, and here is the other fundamental ingredient of Joy Division's music, its four distinct sounds, when combined, do not form a compact wall that fills the room and heads and makes you jump, etc., but remain separated like four planes crossing a deep blue sky leaving four different trails, or four ships in the ocean, four individual entities in a sea of silence. Joy Division's sound was not the product of a plan. They were too young to realize what they were doing. I never forgot a statement by Joy Division's guitarist from an old interview: it seemed to us that we were not composing our songs; our music was in the air we breathed; we were merely conduits, executors. Yet no other contemporary so-called punk band sounded like this. Nor, on the other hand, does it make sense to count Joy Division among the groups belonging to the "movement." In addition, indeed, to the already mentioned bass and guitar, Joy Division included a drum kit, analog, and played normally, but which the visionary producer Martin Hannett managed to make sound exactly like an industrial machine (The Atrocity Exhibition), and the cavernous voice of the only member of Joy Division I will name: Ian Curtis.
Lyric, restless personality, etc., Ian Curtis had bent Joy Division to his personal needs (the music that the guitarist seemed not to compose but to breathe probably, just as unconsciously, emanated from him). Ian Curtis cared to express in song form his anger at the limitations of the human condition. Not because he was philosophically aware of it; as for any poet, his need to articulate was physiological rather than intellectual. Ian Curtis knew punk through the Sex Pistols, the Clash, spontaneous groups that added new words to the vocabulary of popular music. Some of them (Sid Vicious) died and were victims more of historical and social circumstances than themselves. Their anger was more than anything adolescent, ready to dissipate with the growth of age and belly. Ian Curtis's despair, on the other hand, does not belong to any particular era. It is the intuition of man's absolute helplessness in the face of the laws of life, death, the gods, and fate. And the inability to accept it, Prometheus who wants nevertheless to steal the fire, etc. (Ian Curtis suffered from epilepsy, like many greats who believed they could become gods). Ian Curtis, to explain the despair arising from the consciousness of this paradox (a consciousness not given to many, not wanted by anyone, but impossible to refuse if received) was given punk, and Ian Curtis used punk, or made Joy Division use it. In another era he might have used another language, but certain of his verses, where his tragedy and hybris are more clearly articulated, might have been born identical. If only I could show you the beauty, those things I cannot describe... instead pleasures, ephemeral distractions: is this my splendid prize? (A Means to an End) and the funeral procession seen passing by the Eternal: we go on, the cries are over, the living naïvely shake off the idea of death... I instead want to scream, in the face of their futility, ephemeral as clouds drifting by in the sky.
When he finally hanged himself, refusing to accept the fragility of his condition, his humanity, death was for Ian Curtis the only logical conclusion. New Order was not comparable to Joy Division, and Joy Division has become eternal: four slashes on an empty canvas, four slaps on the face of God.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
01 Atrocity Exhibition (06:04)
The silence when doors open wide
Where people could pay to see inside
For entertainment they watch
his body twist
Behind his eyes he says I still exist
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
In arenas he kills for a prize
Wins a minute to add to his life
But the sickness is drowned
by cries for more
Pray to God make it quick - watch him fall
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way
This is the way
This is the way
This is the way
This is the way, step inside
You'll see the horrors of a far-away place
Meet the architects of law
face to face
See mass murder on a scale
you've never seen
And all the ones who tried hard
to succeed
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
This is the way, step inside
And I picked on the whims of
a thousand more
Still pursuing the path
that's been buried
For years of dead woods and jungles and
cities on fire, can't replace
or relate,
can't release or repair -
take my hand,
and I'll show you what was - it will be.
02 Isolation (02:53)
Be clear every day, every evening
It calls here aloud from above
Carefully watched for a reason
Mistaking devotion and love
Surrendered to self-preservation
For those who just care for themselves
But life as it touches perfection
Appears just like anything else
Isolation
Isolation
Isolation
Mother, I tried, please believe me
I'm doing the best that I can
I'm ashamed of the things
I've been put through
I'm ashamed of the person I am
Isolation
Isolation
Isolation
But if you could just see the beauty
These things I could never describe
This pleasure's a wayward distraction
This is my wonderful prize
Isolation
Isolation
Isolation
Isolation
Isolation
03 Passover (04:46)
This is a crisis I knew had to come,
Destroying the balance I'd kept.
Doubting, unsettling and turning around,
Wondering what will come next.
Is this the role that you wanted to live?
I was foolish to ask for so much.
Without the protection and infancy's guard,
It all falls apart at first touch.
Watching the reel as it comes to a close,
Brutally taking it's time,
People who change for no reason at all,
It's happening all of the time.
Can I go on with this train of events?
Disturbing and purging my mind,
Back out of my duties, when all's said and done,
I know that I'll lose every time.
Moving along in our God given ways,
Safety is sat by the fire,
Sanctuary from these feverish smiles,
Left with a mark on the door,
Is this the gift that I wanted to give?
Forgive and forget's what they teach,
Or pass through the deserts and wastelands once more,
And watch as they drop by the beach.
This is the crisis I knew had to come,
Destroying the balance I'd kept,
Turning around to the next set of lives,
Wondering what will come next.
04 Colony (03:55)
A cry for help, a hint of anaesthesia,
The sound from broken homes,
We used to always meet here.
As he lays asleep, she takes him in her arms,
Some things I have to do, but I don't mean you harm.
A worried parent's glance, a kiss, a last goodbye,
Hands him the bag she packed, the tears she tries to hide,
A cruel wind that blows down to our lunacy
And leaves him standing cold here in this colony.
I can't see why all these confrontations,
I can't see why all these dislocations,
No family life, this makes me feel uneasy,
Stood alone here in this colony.
In this colony, in this colony, in this colony, in this colony.
Dear God in his wisdom took you by the hand,
God in his wisdom made you understand.
God in his wisdom took you by the hand,
God in his wisdom made you understand.
God in his wisdom took you by the hand,
God in his wisdom made you understand.
God in his wisdom took you by the hand,
God in his wisdom made you understand.
In this colony, in this colony, in this colony, in this colony.
05 A Means to an End (04:05)
A legacy so far removed
One day will be improved
Eternal rights we left behind
We were the better kind
Two the same - set free too
I always looked to you.
We fought for good - stood side by side
Our friendship never died
On stranger waves - the lows and highs
Our vision touched the skies
Immortalists with points to prove
I put my trust in you.
A house somewhere on foreign soil
Where ageing lovers call
Is this your goal - your final needs?
Where dogs and vultures eat
Committed still, I turn to go
I put my trust in you.
In you, in you, in you
Put my trust in you, in you
07 Twenty Four Hours (04:26)
So this is permanence, love's shattered pride.
What once was innocence, turned on its side.
A cloud hangs over me, marks every move,
Deep in the memory, of what once was love.
Oh how I realised how I wanted time,
Put into perspective, tried so hard to find,
Just for one moment, thought I'd found my way.
Destiny unfolded, I watched it slip away.
Excessive flashpoints, beyond all reach,
Solitary demands for all I'd like to keep.
Let's take a ride out, see what we can find,
A valueless collection of hopes and past desires.
I never realised the lengths I'd have to go,
All the darkest corners of a sense I didn't know.
Just for one moment, I heard somebody call,
Looked beyond the day in hand, there's nothing there at all.
Now that I've realised how it's all gone wrong,
Gottas find some therapy, this treatment takes too long.
Deep in the heart of where sympathy held sway,
Gotta find my destiny, before it gets too late.
08 The Eternal (06:06)
Procession moves on, the shouting is over,
Praise to the glory of loved ones now gone.
Talking aloud as they sit round their tables,
Scattering flowers washed down by the rain.
Stood by the gate at the foot of the garden,
Watching them pass like clouds in the sky,
Try to cry out in the heat of the moment,
Possessed by a fury that burns from inside.
Cry like a child, though these years make me older,
With children my time is so wastefully spent,
A burden to keep, though their inner communion,
Accept like a curse an unlucky deal.
Played by the gate at the foot of the garden,
My view stretches out from the fence to the wall,
No words could explain, no actions determine,
Just watching the trees and the leaves as they fall.
09 Decades (06:09)
Here are the young men, the weight on their shoulders,
Here are the young men, well where have they been?
We knocked on the doors of Hell's darker chamber,
Pushed to the limit, we dragged ourselves in,
Watched from the wings as the scenes were replaying,
We saw ourselves now as we never had seen.
Portrayal of the trauma and degeneration,
The sorrows we suffered and never were free.
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Weary inside, now our heart's lost forever,
Can't replace the fear, or the thrill of the chase,
Each ritual showed up the door for our wanderings,
Open then shut, then slammed in our face.
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
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Other reviews
By TenshiSell
Ian Curtis was about to become a living legend. He lucidly chose to limit himself to being a legend.
You collapse to the ground, a scream frees you from a burden.
By Mr.Moustache
It is 1980. Punk is dying and with it the little good music ... when suddenly, in less than a year, an album is about to change the course of contemporary music forever.
The glacial beauty of the album is indisputable due to the ruthless sincerity it suggests.
By andrea biacca
"Closer" is a journey made of nightmares, sadness, physical and mental stimulations; the musical transposition of the agony of the most charismatic leader rock has ever had: Ian Curtis.
All we have left is to listen to this musical masterpiece and appreciate its excellent craftsmanship, both in terms of lyrics and harmonies.
By COX
Closer is the testament in which Curtis invites us to explore the roots of his illness and his apathy towards life.
Joy Division has the power to tear you apart, to gradually consume you with their melody that backs you against the wall and forces you to face reality for what it is.
By darkfall
‘Closer’ is a truly difficult album to classify, but probably not to understand... I personally prefer to classify it as dark, just dark and nothing more.
‘The Eternal’ is a funeral march, accompanying Ian Curtis on his last journey... the heart is now definitively burned but the soul is still here.
