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Date |
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Wednesday 2001-10-10 12:00:00 AM |
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City |
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London, United Kingdom |
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Venue |
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Brixton Academy |
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Attendance |
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4,500, Capacity: 4,500 |
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| Order | Song | Notes |
| 1 | Crystal | |
| 2 | Transmission | |
| 3 | Regret | |
| 4 | Ceremony | |
| 5 | 60 Miles An Hour | |
| 6 | Your Silent Face | |
| 7 | Atmosphere | |
| 8 | Close Range | |
| 9 | Touched by the Hand of God | |
| 10 | Bizarre Love Triangle | |
| 11 | True Faith | |
| 12 | Temptation | |
| 13 | Love Will Tear Us Apart | |
| 14 | Rock The Shack | Encore - with Bobby Gillespie |
| 15 | Blue Monday | Encore |
From Dele Fadele (New Musical Express)
The possibilities are stark indeed. That Manchester's infamous New Order would return as a cabaret act; a glorified karaoke mirror-image of their past; or worse, to indifference and irrelevance. Thank heavens then, that 25 years after Warsaw's self-titled debut, and 21 years after Joy Division's posthumous 'Closer', the maverick, cranky, playful, and sometimes dour, quartet (Gillian Gilbert might not be onstage, but she's definitely in the sampler) can still reach a high level of poignancy, melancholy, hedonism, and life-affirmation.
The alternately mournful and emotional music that cascades from the stage like molten lava deserves hyperbole. As unpretentious as New Order are tonight - with between-song asides and jests - a gap remains between their physical presence and the spectral songs. Yes, the more rock-oriented 'Get Ready' has raised some eyebrows with its introduction of outside help like Billy Corgan (who's absent tonight) and yes, the dance music and synthetic template has taken a sideseat, but Bernard Sumner, Peter Hook and Stephen Morris are hardly rock'n'roll monsters onstage, in the conventional sense.
Received wisdom about music being the sole premise of the young, ignores a music that, like the blues, is outside time. There's something to be said for the way the opener 'Crystal' and an exceptional version of Joy Division's 'Transmission' are pages of the same book, albeit with a linear progression soundwise and a less heavy lyrical edge to the former.
Some might think it opportunistic to reopen the Joy Division chapter after so many years, but just hear 'Regret' segue into a mournful yet upbeat version of 'Ceremony' - with images of leaves falling from trees, and smashed-glass guitar - and it's devastating. Of course, there are misfires, like the way 'Touched By The Hand Of God' loses its sleek synthetic sheen, or the mix that derails a very moving 'Atmosphere', but it all deflates an air of reverence. Not that the capacity crowd tonight have come to worship; they're here for a good time that still carries emotional weight, in perilous times.
A salutary history lesson is here, too, for people who've never heard Peter Hook's distinctive melodic bass squalls and for those who've forgotten Barney Sumner's skill on the melodica, as is evident on 'Your Silent Face'. The audience also gets an energetic 'Close Range', with self-improvement advice to a fallen mate; a scintillating version of 'Temptation', with keyboard frequencies that connect; 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' sung with many voices, and a 'Bizarre Love Triangle' that requires Stephen Morris to dust down his disco drums. Curiouser still, Bobby Gillespie comes on for a high-octane rock and roll version of 'Rock The Shack' that's as much Primal Scream as it is conventional.
Where the New Order of old would play unrecorded songs, and choose venues that were off the beaten track, and be alternatively shambolic and celestial, this year's model remains a continuing work-in-progress, that everyone says is very professional. Or would say if there weren't still the probabilities of contrary, awkward behaviour, maverick music and throwing major wobblers...
For now, New Order are happy, reborn. And will continue to be relevant as long as this spectral music is played, as long as boy bands, corporate indie bands, and nu-metallers continue to rule, and as long as these fun-loving Mancunians continue to surprise. Think about it. It could've been a horrible desecration of the past and present, couldn't it? Still timeless. Still endless.
Dele Fadele
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