Rebellious Jukebox

Manchester's Joy Division

In a recent post I was musing at how difficult it is to define some musical genres such as new wave, which musically incorporates a wide range of influences.  A similarly difficult to define genre that encompasses music from a similar time period is post-punk.  Like new wave, post-punk is often first and foremost described by mentioning what it is NOT, and that is punk.  Traditionally punk is considered music that is fast, loud, raw, and simple, that favored emotion and immediacy and even lauded amateurish enthusiasm over technicality and subtlety.  Most punk bands took the simplicity and brutal impact of the Ramones as their starting point, and many of the bands that formed in their wake, particularly in England and Los Angeles, followed their sonic blueprint fairly accurately.

But as punk exploded in England and elsewhere a movement arose almost immediately behind it that sought to incorporate other, more complex musical concepts into the energy of punk.  This movement gained its most immediate foothold in post-Pistols London, but its antecedents can actually be traced to the music coming out of New York (particularly CBGB’s) in the 70’s.  Bands like Television merged the raw energy of punk with a more complex technical playing and unique time signatures.  Their epic album Marquee Moon contains many of the sonic signatures of post-punk, including a funkier sound, longer, more complex songs, and a surprisingly accomplished technicality to the guitar work.  Bands like the Talking Heads and Blondie were fairly early on incorporating funk rhythms and reggae influences that would flourish in the English post-punk scene as well.  Even earlier than this, the Velvet Underground were creating dissonant, droning audial landscapes with John Cale’s electric viola and keyboards that would also become a major component of English post-punk. 

If one wants to point to a starting point for English post-punk, it would have to be the rumbling thump of Jah Wobble’s bass on “Public Image”, the first single by former Sex Pistol Johnny Rotten’s new group, Public Imaged Ltd.  Formed by John Lydon (formerly Rotten) and his longtime friend, Jah Wobble, PiL played music that was much more complex than that of the Pistols.  Also critical to this new sound was guitarist Keith Levene; his shimmering guitar soundscapes moved PiL’s music far beyond the simplistic roar of the Pistols.  Astoundingly, this first PiL album does not appear to be available on iTunes, though their second, entitled Metal Box in England and Second Edition in the U.S., is.  It too explores an unusual musical landscape, equally informed by Krautrock, dub reggae (particularly on songs like “Memories”), and even echoes of metal (the guitar on “Swan Lake”).  Levene’s unique chord progressions almost call to mind the post-bebop of John Coltrane on songs like “Poptunes” (which is anything but), while Lydon murmurs behind the wall of clangorous guitar sounds.  This is NOT easy music to listen to; I rarely throw on PiL just for fun.   On their third studio album, Flowers of Romance, Wobble has departed and the emphasis is on Marty Atkins’ pounding drums.  The title track is driven by Atkins’ almost tribal backbeat and Levene’s Middle Eastern keyboard arabesques, which also call to mind some of Cale’s viola work for the Velvets.  Lydon released 5 more albums under the Pil moniker into the 80’s and 90’s, and worked with several other musicians of note, including (perhaps most surprisingly) Steve Vai and John McGeoch. 

If there is another person who can be considered the architect of the post-punk sound, it is Mr. McGeoch.  McGeoch’s distinctive, shimmering guitar was essential to the work of several post-punk bands, including Magazine, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Gen X.  McGeoch formed the band Magazine with ex-Buzzcocks singer Howard DeVoto in 1977 and their work became a flash point for the growing post-punk scene.  Heavily influenced by the early glam/prog of Roxy Music as well as by ex-Roxy Music member Brian Eno’s production work with David Bowie in the mid 70’s, Magazine created music that took the rage of punk and channeled it into music that could be edgy and rocking but could also be lush and romantic.  Their first album, Real Life, channeled both of these disparate musical directions.  “Shot By Both Sides” still hearkens heavily back to DeVoto’s work with Pete Shelley in the Buzzcocks, and is fast-paced and guitar-driven, but “Definitive Gaze” is a very smooth synth-driven number that almost recalls the prog rock of Yes and ELP as much as it does Bryan Ferry.  “My Tulpa” strides uneasily between these two directions, with the keyboards being less soaring and more of an accompaniment to the resulting song.  “The Light Pours Out of Me” is perhaps their best song, and it marries the post-dub bass throb of Jah Wobble’s work with PiL with the edgy, rapid-paced percussion of the Buzzcocks with the stark emotional/sonic landscapes of Joy Division (particularly “New Dawn Fades”). 

Magazine’s subsequent albums explored similar territory.  “Sweeheart Contract” off their third album, The Correct Use of Soap, again channels the simple electronic sounds of Joy Division; “A Song From Under the Floorboards” has a throbbing bass and lush keyboards, and McGeoch’s guitar clangs like it does on his work with Gen X. 

Magazine broke up in 1980, and McGeoch joined Siouxsie Sioux, Steve Severin, and former Slits drummer Budgie in Siouxsie and the Banshees.  His two albums with them represent their finest work.  1980’s Kaleidoscope is defined by McGeoch’s high pitched, shimmering guitar work, particularly on songs like “Happy House”, “Hybrid”, and “Christine”, giving them an atonal, jittery edge that makes them among the Banshee’s best.  1981’s Juju is even better, containing what may be Siouxsie and McGeoch’s finest moment, “Spellbound”, which starts with McGeoch’s haunting and evocative guitar line intertwining with Steve Severin’s simple, counterpointing bass hits before galloping into the body of the song with tribal urgency.  McGeoch’s guitar is allowed to peek through the driving rhythm section during the body of the song but then it shimmers through hectic chord changes during the refrain, sounding more like its influenced by Stravinsky than Chuck Berry.  The other standout track here is “Arabian Nights”, which again shines with a dissonant guitar light.  Speaking of light, “Into the Light” has the propulsive feel of early PiL and a much more straightforward rock direction, while, “Sin In My Heart” has a quiet but intense feel.   

McGeoch was sacked for alcohol-related health issues after their next album, and from there he went on to provide guitar work, along with several other noteworthy punk/post-punk guitarists, to Generation X’s final album Kiss Me Deadly.  This work is among the best of a career already filled with highlights, and the shimmery textures of songs like “Heavens Inside” and “Stars Look Down” stand proudly next to his work with Magazine and the Banshees.  In 1986 he joined his fellow post-punk pioneer John Lydon in PiL, and worked with him until that group’s dissolution in 1992.  McGeoch’s guitar was a signature sound of the English post-punk scene, and his influence was profound; bands as disparate as the Smiths, Radiohead, U2, and Jane’s Addiction all have cited his work as a major influence. 

Another classic English post-punk to me is “Something’s Gone Wrong Again” by Howard Devoto’s former group the Buzzcocks.  It starts with a thumping piano and sounds a lot like “Now I Want To Be Your Dog”, except instead of the everything-on-11 feedback roar of the Stooges it retains an edgy, nervous energy that is matched by the negative lyrics and Pete Shelley’s high pitched, almost paranoid sounding vocals.  What I like most about this song is how it both celebrates and laughs at all of our daily mishaps and the mountains made of these molehills.  The ultimate message is that life essentially isn’t so bad if the worst that happens to you is that the pub is closed or you run out of smokes. 

Another titan of the English post-punk movement is Wire.  Their music swerved uneasily between the manic energy of punk and a more experimental (but no less unrestrained) art rock approach.  Their masterpiece, Pink Flag, came out the same year the Pistol’s first and only album was released, but the difference between the two couldn’t be more huge.  “Three Girl Rhumba” has the rawness and energy of punk, but this is music that more complicated than it sounds.  Songs like this and “Lowdown” restrain the anger of early punk into a seething mass that occasionally leaks out in choruses of shouting rage.  The repeating bass/guitar line of “Three Girl Rhumba” would be co-opted by Elastica for their song “Connection”.  Other times the off-key vocals recall Tom Verlaine’s in Television, particularly on the title track, and the sonic drone evokes the Velvets or even Suicide.  Indeed, if there’s a single logical antecedent to this it might be Suicide’s work, which explored a similar vein of repetition, drone, and occasional explosive anger. 

Gang of Four is also considered one of the major English post-punk bands.  Their 1979 album Entertainment! restrains the rage and energy of punk into sporadic atonal bursts of guitar and encapsulates it with a pulsing funk bass.  My favorite song by them is “Anthrax”, which starts with Andy Gill’s feeding back guitar creating a droning, reverberating sonic atmosphere—it reminds me of nothing so much as a start (post) punk answer to Eddie Van Halen’s “Eruption”.   Eventually, a poppy rhythm kicks in, though Gill’s feedback-drenched guitar work continues to color it until the strange, alternating spoken-and sung vocals start up (which sound to me like Vince Clarke’s strange experiments on “I Before E Except After C and “In My Room” on Yaz’s debut Upstairs at Eric’s).  “At Home He’s a Tourist” pumps up the funky energy even more, sounding musically like early Talking Heads, and “Ether” has an almost metallic surge to the guitars, which burst out of a stark, Joy Division-like rhythm.  “Paralyzed”, off their second album Solid Gold is characterized by Gill’s staccato guitar licks and builds in intensity like Joy Division’s “Shadowplay”.

Emerging out of Leeds like Gang of Four, The Mekons were a band that made music that went in a wide variety of directions, and they’ve continued to be fruitful and produce quality music from the 70’s to today.  “Snow” off 1980’s Devils, Rats and Piggies: A Special Message from Godzilla has a fuzzy, repetitive synth line and vocodered vocals that remind me of another interesting post-punk artifact, “Warm Leatherette” by the Normal.  “St. Patrick’s Day” incorporates braying horns and skirling violins and sounds like a reconstruction of English folk music into something post-modern and contemporary; the Pogues would explore this same territory in a more conventional manner with songs like “I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Every Day”.  Almost everything the Mekons has done, and they’ve been quite prolific, has been unique and challenging. 

The Mekon’s use of synthesizers and electronic effects mirrored a burgeoning trend at that time in English post-punk; many bands would look to the synthesizer to break out of macho hegemony of the guitar and produce some truly interesting sounds.  Another such band was Cabaret Voltaire, who created dissonant soundscapes that drew from the minimalist pulse of Suicide and the contfrontational pre-industrial antics of Throbbing Gristle (who themselves are another seminal proto-industrial music precursor; We Hate You (Little Girls)” is perhaps the scariest, weirdest song not recorded by the Butthole Surfers, who clearly must have been listening to D.O.A.; “Hot on the Heels of Love” is all burbling synths and like “United” sounds like early Mode).  Voltaire’s first album has many Gristle-like moments, most notably “Kirlian Photograph” and “No Escape”, but my favorite song by them is “Split Second Feeling” off their lauded 1981 album Red Mecca; its clearly industrial but also has a sweetness to it.

They would go on to become one of the major movers and shakers of the New Romantic movement, but in their early work, the Human League sounded like the electroclash hip hop of Grandmaster Flash and Afrika Bambaataa.  “Being Boiled” sounds like a cross between “White Lines” and “Planet Rock”.  Co-founders Ian Marsh and Martyn Ware would leave Human League soon after and form first the British Electric Foundation and then Heaven 17, which would have hits with the burbling but heavily R&B influenced songs “Let Me Go” and “Temptation”)  Scritti Politti would also go on to have several synth-driven new wave hits but even at the height of their popularity they remained innovative—“Hypnotize” and “Wood Beez”, like “Being Boiled”, take their musical cue from American hip hop and electrofunk.  However, their early work was much less sweet; “Skank Bloc Bologna” and “Is and Ought the Western World” sound more like missing Wire and Magazine singles than Malcolm McLaren’s “Buffalo Gals”.  “The Sweetest Girl” is quieter and much more melodic and hints at the directions leader Green Gartside would take Politti in that would result in their smash hit “The Perfect Way”.  Fad Gadget never achieved the fame of the rest of their synth rock contemporaries, but their single “The Box” creeps and grinds and pulses behind a buzzy synth throb with spoken vocals; again, to me the nearest sonic neighbor here is some of the strange electronic experiments Gibby Haynes did with the Butthole Surfers.  “For Whom the Bells Toll” is more danceable and again you can see the cross-pollination between electrofunk and this music.

Perhaps no band was more prolific than The Fall, who have continued to release music since their inception in the late 70’s.  I’ve never been a huge fan but Mark E. Smith, leader of the Fall, has legions of fans.  I like “Frightened” and “Rebellious Jukebox” off their first album, 1979’s Live At the Witch Trials.

Joy Division are without question the greatest post-punk band that ever existed, and to me are inarguably one of the top five rock bands ever.  Their brilliance was their ability to mine emotional landscapes in the lyrics that so perfectly matched the sonic ones created by their instruments.  One hallmark of much of post-punk was the ability and desire of the musicians to move beyond the basic rage of the Pistols.  Much of the Pistols’ work, and that of their immediate punk successors, was characterized by their anger at the dismal sociopolitical and economic milieu of late 70’s England, and the stultification of society in general and music and pop culture in particular.  But starting with the edgy, nervous energy of the Buzzcocks, Magazine, and Wire, post-punks bands moved beyond rage, and nobody did that better than Joy Division.  Whereas rage is anger directed outward at the world, emotions like anxiety and depression are anger directed inward at the self, and many of Joy Division’s finest songs seethed both lyrically and sonically with paranoia and despair.  “Twenty Four Hours”, particularly the live version recorded at the Preston Warehouse on 28 February 1980, is one of the most harrowing, intense songs ever recorded; lyrics like “Just for one moment, thought I'd found my way
looking beyond the day at hand, I saw it slip away” hint at the inner torment and negativity that eventually led singer Ian Curtis to take his own life on the eve of the band’s first American tour.  Curtis almost croons these lyrics here while the band hammers its way through the feedback-drenched, bludgeoning music.  This is human emotion at its bleakest, rawest, and most intense, and this song is one of my all-time favorites for this harrowing honesty.  “Digital”, on the other hand, has a bouncy, new wave-y bass pulsing rhythm and a more optimistic musical sound, but here Curtis’ paranoid, needy lyrics (“I feel it closing in, I feel it closing in, Day in, day out, DAY IN, DAY OUT!”) create a jarring counterpoint to the relative lightness of the music.  Similarly, “Isolation” also has a poppy, optimistic synth line that again contrasts with the self-loathing of the lyrics (“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”).  And of course, two of their signature songs, “Love Will Tear Us Apart Again” and “Atmosphere”, marry soaring, lush, romantic keyboard-driven music to lyrics describing the breakup of a couple that has grown apart (“resentment rides high, but emotions won't grow, and we're changing our ways, taking different roads”).  Another apotheosis was “Transmission”, which has a coldness and alienness to it that reminds me of some of Tubeway Army’s early work.  On the one hand its lush and danceable synth pop, but in contrast to work by Yaz or Human League this is distant, almost emotionless work. 

It was one of Joy Division’s singular abilities to fuse such disparateness into a single song and do so magnificently.  Still other Joy Division songs switch this around, linking lyrics that celebrate life to a bleak sonic landscape.  “A Means To An End” has a repetitive, bass-driven vibe that seems like a marriage of “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog” by the Stooges to the dreary goth feel of “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” by Bauhaus. 

Two other Joy Division songs always jostle in my mental top-10 list.  One is “No Love Lost”, which was an early single from their art/punk beginnings but already hints at the power this band would one day possess.  It starts with an insistent, throbbing bass to which jagged, nervous blasts of guitar are added; in this regard it is very similar to “Anthrax” by Gang of Four.  Eventually Curtis’ lyrics come in over halfway through; at this stage they are punky, almost bratty and the seething rage here seems to be directed outward to a lover; there’s also a strange, spoken-word interlude that recalls “Lady Godiva’s Operation” more than anything.

My other favorite Joy Division song is “Ceremony”, which most people quite properly consider to be the first single by New Order, the band formed by Curtis’ bandmates following his tragic suicide in 1980.  Ironically, its one of the most optimistic songs, both lyrically and musically, that Joy Division ever wrote, ending with these hopeful lyrics:

Oh, I'll break them down, no mercy shown,
Heaven knows, it's got to be this time,
Avenues all lined with trees,
Picture me and then you start watching,
Watching forever, forever,
Watching love grow, forever,
Letting me know, forever.

Its hard not to listen to this beautiful, hopeful but still complex song and not feel a massive twinge of sadness at the lost potential of Curtis’ tragic end.  This was a band still on the lowest, steepest part of its growth curve and they likely could and would have gone on to even more magnificent things.  New Order did an admirable job of carrying on, and indeed they did move in a much lighter, more optimistic and poppy direction with their music.  But I always think of what might have been when I hear this song.

If there’s a silver lining to the Joy Division story, it’s the fact that, starting in the late 90’s, bands started using them as a musical starting point, and since then a post-punk revival of sorts has occurred that has brought Joy Division from being an obscure but critically beloved band to being a touchstone for much contemporary music.  Often these bands have been criticized for sounding TOO much like Joy Division, as if that’s a bad thing.  I’ve said it often—EVERYONE steals from someone, its what you do with what you’ve stolen that truly matters.  Bands like Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones were heavily criticized back in the late 60’s and early 70’s for “ripping off” their blues inspirations—Zep was even sued by Willie Dixon!—and these accusations have continued to haunt other musicians to this day.  Yeah, Whitesnake sounded a lot like Zep, and Cinderella sounded a lot like AC/DC, but those bands sucked DESPITE these, not BECAUSE of them.

Perhaps nobody has been more harshly tarred with the “Joy Division clone” brush than New York’s Interpol; admittedly, lead singer Paul Banks often sounds EXACTLY like Ian Curtis, and Interpol often stake out the same spare, melancholy musical landscape as Joy Division.  I LOVE Interpol, they’re one of my favorite bands, and I particularly like their song “NYC”, which is in my opinion the greatest Joy Division song JD never recorded; its got that lush, melancholy, introspective feel in the music and lyrics (“I had seven faces, thought I knew which one to wear; I’m sick of spending these lonely nights, training myself not to care”).  Its simple, powerful, and magnificent.  Its hands down my favorite songs by them and one of my favorite songs ever.  But there’s really no bad song on their debut album, Turn On The Bright Lights (named after a lyric in “NYC”); all of them explore the same tension and sadness that colors the work of Joy Division but in a way that is unique and original; “PDA”, “Obstacle 1 and 2”, “The New”, and Leif Erikson” all share this same spare style that emphasizes emptiness and emotional and sonic space. 

The subsequent albums by Interpol continue to mine similar territory but branches out considerably.  “Evil” off their second album Antics has the edgy blasts of atonal guitar that sound like Wire or Gang of Four.  “NARC” is reminiscent of “PDA” from their first album, but its “Length of Love” with its clanging, ominous guitar line that funnels this bands melancholy into something that’s fully of edgy tension.  Aside from “NYC” I feel this is their best song, followed by “Mammoth” off their third album, Our Love To Admire, as it has a similar propulsive beat and ringing guitar.  “The Heinrich Maneuver” is a little less tense and more upbeat, while “Wrecking Ball” and Pioneer To the Falls” both slow things down for a more introspective feel.  I haven’t gotten into their most recent, self-titled album yet; at first listen nothing reaches out and grabs me like “NYC”, “Length of Love” and “Mammoth” do, but I’m still hoping for good things from this band.

Another band that has been accused of ripping off Joy Division is the Editors.  Their 2005 debut, The Back Room, was a critical smash and was widely considered the British Turn On the Bright Lights.  “Lights”, their first single, has elements of Joy Division, particularly singer Tom Smith’s languid, Curtis-esque vocals, but sonically it sounds closer to the post-punk psychedelia of Echo and the Bunnymen or Aztec Camera.  “Munich” continues in this driving, pulsing direction, as do “Blood” and “Bullets”, but I’ll be honest—while this album shows promise I actually think the Editors got better with subsequent albums.  Everything here is good but nothing rises above the pack like “Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors” off The End has a Start.  This album, however, has been less critically acclaimed, at least in part for how it slides dangerously toward the sound of post-modern bands like Radiohead and even Coldplay.  “The Racing Rats” off this album is bigger and bolder, incorporating a New Romantic feel, something that was pushed even further on “Papillon” off their third album In This Light and On This Evening—the synth line from this sounds like something by Real Life or Ultravox, while the “awwwwwwww” backing vocals sound like the ones on New Order’s “Blue Monday”.  This might have been where Joy Division went had Ian Curtis not died, in an even lusher and slicker, more danceable direction just as New Order did themselves.   The title track is even more synth-driven, sounding almost like the Cocteau Twins.  On “Bricks and Mortar”, the synths burble like Krautrock.

Lowlife’s “Something Something” is another song that evokes Joy Division, particularly in singer Craig Lorentson’s booming, sonorous baritone.  “Ramified” is more atmospheric, almost literally; it sounds like Joy Division’s “Atmosphere”.  She Wants Revenge sounds like a cross between Joy Division, Vince Clarke era Depeche Mode, and Human League, heavy on the pulsing synths but with the edgy, ominous guitars of JD in the background.  This is particularly evident on “Red Flags and Long Nights” and “Sister”.  These Nights” has a more languid, gloomy pace and is more spare but still has that classic post-punk/goth/new ro feel.  “I Don’t Want To Fall In Love” is poppier and more upbeat and sounds like “New Life” off the Mode’s Speak and Spell.  “Us” is pure Human League, big, lush, romantic, but with a hint of gloominess and with vocals that mirror those of Phil Oakey; man, when I hear this, it immediately brings me back to my freshman year of college in 1985, its that evocative of the time and era.  “Broken Promises for Broken Hearts” has a similar guitar line as “Mammoth” by Interpol but never explores anything as fascinating lyrically or musically.

The Bravery also garnered critical raves for their eponymous debut, which touched on JD on songs like “An Honest Mistake” but, like She Wants Revenge and the Killers, extended their reach to other post-punk/new wave pioneers like Duran Duran and the Cure (“No Brakes” off this album really echoes with the timbre of Robert Smith).  I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness also produce music that falls in that contemplative area between Joy Division and Coldplay; my favorites are “The Ghost” and “Lights”.  “Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid” and “Now That I Miss Her” by Elefant also evoke Curtis and company but are a little more upbeat.  The Prids, while not having a vocalist who sounds exactly like Ian Curtis, also produce music that is often spare, introspective, and uneasy, like Joy Division.  I particularly like “Shadow and Shadow”, “Let It Go”, “Like Hearts”, and “All That You Want” off their album Until the World is Beautiful; another obvious starting point here is Bauhaus, who also made music that was dark and spare.

Its not particularly surprising that so many bands are carrying on the legacy of Ian Curtis and Joy Division, since they represent an archetype of the post-punk era.  It’s the same reason so many bands sound like AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, the Ramones, or Madonna—they are all iconic of a particular genre or era.