#157: Closer- Joy Division

Listened to: MP3 (Sadly, I don’t own it on CD or Vinyl)
　
Ever since I bought their greatest hits in F.Y.E. at 17, I have become, as they say in the move Control about the life of Ian Curtis, “…a firm believer in Joy Division.” Hell, when I saw Nick’s copy of Unknown Pleasures on vinyl, you would’ve thought I’d seen the face of god. Even my own stage performance takes on a lot of the habits I’ve observed from Ian Curtis.

That being said, there is an air of tragedy that looms around Closer, just as there is around Double Fantasy by John Lennon of L.A. Woman by The Doors. This was Joy Division’s final studio album (also only their second) before the death of Ian. This haunting album, with a cover almost as enigmatic as Unknown Pleasures, is a landmark in music, form a band that got much more appreciation in England then they did here.

The first track, “Atrocity Exhibition”, is named after the J.G. Ballard novel of the same title. Whereas Unknown Pleasures had a similar post-punk feel throughout, Closer’s first track begins with an African-esque drum beat, the guitar making wild, contorted growls, and Ian practically rapping, or reciting beat poetry, rather than his typical frenetic warbling. I can see Ian sitting back and saying “You like what we did before, huh? Well, fuck that!” For once, though, for me, the most impressive person on a Joy Division track isn’t Ian Curtis. It is instead Stephen Morris, for the drum beat that seems to overtake the song in the most glorious way. Amongst all the poetry and soundscape, the drums comes across clean and strong the entire time, and I’m loving it every second.

“Isolation” is a hard track to hear now, because I can’t separate it form that scene in Closer, where Ian’s standing in the studio, staring at the girl, singing about how he’s alone. The song is danceable, yes, hence it’s mass appeal, but like any good Joy Division song, the lyrics can tear at your soul if you’ll only listen. I also want to add that Bernard Sumner’s keyboard part here is one of my favorites in any song. That fact that I can turn to the instrumentalists to point out great things on the album, not just Ian, ought to show you how great the album is, because finally all of Joy Division has come together to form the super group they were for a year.

“Passover” is a dark track with a looming, ghostly vibe. A song where you can feel the spirit of Ian Curtis over your shoulder every time it comes on. Listen to that guitar part. Johnny Marr, eat your fucking heart out (did I really just use that phrase? In my defense, Animaniacs was on last night, and Dot uses that a lot). That choppy, heavy sound on “Colony” could be danceable, head-bang-able, even fuckable, and that’s just what Joy Division was after, I’m sure.

I can’t tell you why the line “I always looked to you” strikes me as hard or as sharp as it does on the track “A Means To An End”, but it does. God damn it hits hard. “Heart And Soul” is special, if for no other reason than to hear Ian on the guitar. The bass has been sampled and repeated throughout the song, and that might be quite likely for the drums at the beginning as well. That echo on the vocals, if that doesn’t explain why I called the album haunting, I don’t know what will. “Twenty Four Hours” has a slight reverb on the bass that I’m in love with, plus Ian sounds great, crisp and clear on this track.

“The Eternal” has this ethereal grasp on your soul. That dark piano feel, it’s so emotively beautiful, it’s almost like Ian was recording his suicide note (and, indeed, perhaps he was). This deep, dark track recalls a murky sea, endless, hiding all that lies beneath, with a piercing dark blue that draws you close while scaring you away.

“Decades” has a cheap organ sound that I’m still not sure if it enhances or detracts from the song. It’s still a great track, but I might have preferred this track and “The Eternal were switched around.

This album may be Joy Division’s most fluid and possibly it’s best. It is highly worth the listen, and hopefully it will move you even a fraction of the amoun I has moved me over the years.

-Mike

See you guys tomorrow for #153: Moanin’ In The Moonlight by Howlin’ Wolf.