Archive for May, 2009

one hundred twenty

31/05/2009

“Who is Ian Curtis?” asked Hunter S. Thompson over breakfast at Veselka’s.

one hundred nineteen

30/05/2009

Hooky was an icon, and ought to have been mine.

one hundred eighteen

29/05/2009

Sumner’s identity fluctuated too much to be iconographic.

one hundred seventeen

28/05/2009

Morris was too terse to be an icon.

one hundred sixteen

27/05/2009

A delay, a stutter, a space in which sound is engorged.

one hundred fifteen

26/05/2009

So you press play and the echo slaps you.

one hundred fourteen

25/05/2009

Wallowing in the echoes of someone else’s sadness, she never embraced the Fake Irish moniker; she never got the joke.

one hundred thirteen

24/05/2009

Imagine having the power to change the life of a city. No, really, sit back and imagine yourself part of an engine that unpacks material desolation and provokes pride.

one hundred twelve

23/05/2009

Microcosmic: Factory. A universal broken mirror. Art as concept and product. Existence as catalogue number. Enemy to the completist, friend to the tinpot surrealist. Blueprint of inspirational failure.

one hundred eleven

22/05/2009

It is a dangerous thing to have a little knowledge about the gang of junkies and chancers that formed Factory Communications.

one hundred ten

21/05/2009

I needed an Alan Erasmus.

one hundred nine

20/05/2009

Martin Hannett scored my coming-of-age.

one hundred eight

19/05/2009

Tony Wilson ate my hamster.

one hundred seven

18/05/2009

I got lost in Peter Saville.

one hundred six

17/05/2009

I was born on the seventeenth day of May, and I learned quickly that lost boys with blue eyes ought to stick together.

one hundred five

16/05/2009

I was inspired to buy Unknown Pleasures after a thousand Tuesday nights spent religiously wasted at Panic! The CD sat unopened in my satchel until I lurched home one week. 3am and I play it through Media Player, my album dominating my conscious thought thereafter.

one hundred four

15/05/2009

The first big weekend of the summer and I leave the house to the sound of ‘Disorder’, playing that seminal album for the first time through tinny headphones while my being is altered.

one hundred three

14/05/2009

Bassett played me Unknown Pleasures for the first time in his room in Angel, educating me about post-punk over vodka and squeezed lemon.

one hundred two

13/05/2009

I heard Unknown Pleasures for the first time as it leaked out of my Dad’s car stereo. We were returning from URBIS to his rented house on the outskirts of Manchester.

one hundred one

12/05/2009

The first recorded reference I made to Joy Division can be found as an abstract mention of a playlist on a napkin. I have no memory of the song or the instant. About two years later I found myself in the shitty surrounds of my flat in Angel, hunched over my stereo, soaking up the sound of Unknown Pleasures.

one hundred

11/05/2009

“Who is Ian Curtis?” asked B. S. Johnson, over breakfast at Veselka’s.

ninety nine

10/05/2009

“I always preferred The Smiths” she said.

ninety eight

09/05/2009

“What next?”

ninety seven

08/05/2009

Imagine creativity as a grandfather clock: On the tick you’re soaking up sources, on the tock you’re broadcasting output. It takes a while to regularise that tick and tock, and only at the best and worst of times will it beat in time with seconds.

ninety six

07/05/2009

Cultural explosions have mapped my life.

ninety five

06/05/2009

They won’t write the book about FROG because most people won’t remember being there.

ninety four

05/05/2009

Few things match seeing your idols crumble. Pete(r) Doherty became a tabloid monkey-boy manchild shortly after we embraced at Camden’s Barfly. It broke my heart to see his words and music soaked up by polo-shirts and branded tracksuits, but I let the icon rot. I stopped caring.

ninety three

04/05/2009

“Maybe you could write about your failures with women?”
“Don’t I already do that?”

ninety two

03/05/2009

Harmony, metaphorical or not, is a powerful discovery.

ninety one

02/05/2009

A large hall, many ages, split into two sections:
1: AH! O-Ooo! AH! O-Ooo!
2: OhAhOh! OhAhOh!

ninety

01/05/2009

So, with one exception, I could never really keep friends around for long.