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Rating:
Picked clean and reduced to the bone. Cannon fodder. Black dogs fighting over the last scraps. In fact, I don't even know if it’s for Curtis's death, or for something that is pure commerce. But in the end, you can count them on your fingers. Speculation. As if we were at the Milan Stock Exchange. But we are not. We are at the level of Hendrix. Any noise, any breath. Overtaken, on the right of course, even Cobain. And yes, I thought it would feed them a little longer. But we're at the end of the line, in denial.
Martin Hannett, to whom a monument is owed (because, digression, the sound, the space between instruments, the emptiness, it's all thanks to him, however great the guys' merits are). As I was saying, the illustrious, full of alcohol and various drugs, had the habit of leaving the recorders always on, while they played. Second digression. I don’t know if you've ever recorded a record. But it works like this. You make some takes that don't convince you. You start and stop because you can't find the energy. In the end, you have four/five versions of the same song, which don't satisfy you. But you have no money, no time. You work on those, imperfect. All the same, with small fractals that differentiate them. Only to your ears, but that’s more than enough. You start mixing. You start arguing with the sound engineer. You start drinking to avoid killing him. At a certain point, you wish you weren't there. You leave and try to sleep. You come back because you can't leave it all to him. And you start again, mixing. Arguing. Drinking. Not killing him. Then everything is ready. And it sucks. And you're unhappy. Third digression. Well known, but it’s worth remembering, that Joy Division reached the point of releasing, on the same 7-inch, two different versions of one of the greatest love songs in history, because one was the one they liked, one was the one Hannett liked. How many times have you listened to them to understand the nuances?
So, because sooner or later you have to get to the point, what do we have? Some elevator sounds, some keyboard sounds, the voices of Ian and Martin, some false starts, and a series of alternate takes. Mostly from "Closer", but there's also "Autosuggestion" and "From Safety to Where...?" (forgive the wailing, but at least those leeches preparing these collections could be philological? Jumping from April 1979 to March 1980 as if it were just one night, but instead it’s the abyss).
I don't think there's anything else to add. If you have obsessions, you can comfortably lay down here. Just a plaid will suffice. It will be cold, but I'm sure you won't come out. For others, let what has been be enough. Of all true loves, isn't memory better?
For M.: I will kill all the other three, let them come play You something decent, I'm afraid you'll get bored.
Tracklist and Lyrics
09 From Safety to Where (02:29)
No I don't know just why.
No I don't know just why.
Which way to turn,
I've got this ticket to use.
Through childlike ways rebellion and crime,
To reach this point and retreat back again.
The broken hearts,
All the wheels that have turned,
The memories scarred and the vision is blurred.
No I don't know just why,
Don't know which way to turn,
The best possible use.
Just passing through, 'till we reach the next stage.
But just to where, well it's all been arranged.
Just passing through but the break must be made.
Should we move on or stay safely away?
Through childlike ways rebellion and crime,
To reach this point and retreat back again.
The broken hearts,
All the wheels that have turned,
The memories scarred and the vision is blurred.
Just passing through, 'till we reach the next stage.
But just to where, well it's all been arranged.
Just passing through but the break must be made.
Should we move on or stay safely away?
10 Autosuggestion (06:09)
Here, here,
Everything is by design,
Everything is by design.
Here, here,
Everything is kept inside.
So take a chance and step outside,
Your hopes, your dreams, your paradise.
Heroes, idols cracked like ice.
Here, here,
Everything is kept inside.
So take a chance and step outside.
Pure frustration face to face.
A point of view creates more waves,
So take a chance and step outside.
Take a chance and step outside.
Lose some sleep and say you tried.
Meet frustration face to face.
A point of view creates more waves.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Say you tried.
Yeah, lose some sleep and say you tried.
Yeah, lose some sleep and say you tried.
Yeah, lose some sleep and say you tried.
Yeah, lose some sleep and say you tried.
14 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.
17 The Eternal (06:20)
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.
18 The Eternal (06:13)
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.
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