Manchester Academy 30th March 2013

 

'Feel It Live' tour in Manchester back in 2013. Unfortunately I only have this in MP3 format. Nevertheless, it is a nice sounding audience recording of the full gig. Thanks to Meanie for the artwork.

MP3: https://we.tl/t-uO0qydcgGT3THMpN

Artwork: https://we.tl/t-hO5ECJrNSmA2VLTp

Dead Souls – On the Trail of Joy Division (Southern Cemetery Manchester)

 Thoughts of Joy Division invariably conjure up iconic images of a serious, raincoat-wrapped post-punk troupe pictured against a back-drop of the urban decay of 1970’s Manchester or Stockport. But in 2024, three key figures in the Joy Division drama can be located amongst the sun dappled headstones of the Southern Cemetery.

They are there and their plot details are available online. However, I was unable to see any plot markers indicating where exactly you are in the cemetery at any given point. The sections are arranged both alphabetically and by religious denomination (i.e. C of E, Roman Catholic, Non-Conformist, Jewish, Islamic etc). The best I could do is try to navigate with reference to one or more of the chapels standing at the cardinal compass points in the grounds. The only remaining problem then was my total lack of any semblance of a sense of direction. Nevertheless, cemeteries rarely get the upper hand on me and so Mo and I were up to the challenge of finding our cemetery residents, plot markers be damned.

The first headstone found on our shopping list of three, or rather stumbled across, was that of Tony, latterly Anthony Wilson. ‘Mr Manchester’ himself. Tony Wilson entered the world of journalism and broadcasting after graduating in English from Jesus College in Cambridge. As a presenter on ‘So It Goes’, a Granada TV, entertainments and arts magazine show, he did much to promote the new music that was breaking through in the mid 1970’s. Despite all outward appearances, over the collar hair, wide collared shirts and flared jeans, Wilson was tired of the musical status quo, and probably Status Quo too for that matter.

In the Summer of 1976 he bore witness to Sex Pistols at Manchester’s Lesser Free Trade Hall, an event that he described as "nothing short of an epiphany". Whilst several fellow gig goers were subsequently compelled to form their own punk bands, Wilson went one step further and put the Pistols on television (the band appeared on the last episode of series one of ‘So It Goes’). It was the band’s first appearance on UK TV and for many teenagers in the North West, the 3 minutes 33 seconds of ‘Anarchhy In The UK’ studio footage was every bit as explosive as the Bill Grundy interview was to their counterparts in London. It is I have to say an electrifying performance even today; I can only try to imagine how it must have been perceived in 1976 against a backdrop of so much turgid AOR!

Tony Wilson had found his calling. As co-founder of Factory Records, he managed label acts, A Certain Ratio and Durutti Column. However, he is best known for his association with Joy Division and New Order. Famously, or perhaps that should be infamously, he founded the Haçienda, A project largely bank rolled by the record sales of Joy Division and later New Order. Whilst the contribution of the Haçienda to the cultural life and legacy of Manchester and the North West of England was off the scale, its contribution to the coffers of the owners and shareholders was less than impressive, (see Peter Hook’s book: The Haçienda – How Not To Run A Club for the inside story). Tony Wilson was also on the scene when Manchester enjoyed a second wave of UK musical domination with the rise of ‘Madchester’ and the Happy Mondays.

Wilson’s own words, ‘some people make money and some make history’ are very true indeed.

Anthony H Wilson, died of a heart attack whilst undergoing cancer treatment in Manchester on 10th August 2007. When the news broke the Union Flag flying from Manchester Town Hall was lowered to half mast, a clear indication of the affection the City of Manchester held for this often rather arrogant, but always entertaining impresario. He was Manchester through and through.

His headstone, designed by in-house Factory artist, Peter Saville, bears the inscription:

‘Anthony H Wilson 

Broadcaster

Cultural Catalyst 

1950-2007’ 

Next on the list of headstone to track down was that belonging to Rob Gretton, the long-serving manager of both Joy Division and New Order. Gretton’s obituary in The Independent stated that he was to the two Manchester bands what Brian Epstein was to The Beatles.

Rob Gretton was an early supporter of the flourishing Manchester punk scene which saw him managing fellow Wythenshawe punks, Slaughter & The Dogs. As resident DJ at Rafters he witnessed Joy Division, then under the name of Warsaw for the first time. By April 1978 they had adopted the name Joy Division and returned to Rafters to participate in the label sponsored Stiff Test/Chiswick Challenge, a battle of the bands competition. The Judges weren’t swayed, but Tony Wilson, the man off the telly, was impressed.

Gretton took on the management of Joy Division and badgered his new acquaintance to get Joy Division some exposure on Granada TV, which Wilson duly did.

As a co-founder of Factory Records, Rob Gretton was keen to see Joy Division release their debut album on the label, rather than on a major. 1979’s ‘Unknown Pleasures’ was released on Factory and secured the label’s cultural legacy that remains solid to this day.

Upon the suicide of Ian Curtis on the eve of Joy Division’s first American tour, Gretton as manager did much to steady the ship, such that after a period of reflection, the three surviving members formed New Order, who went on to become one of the country’s most enduring and successful bands of the ‘80’s and ‘90s.

Rob Gretton died of a heart attack on 15^th May 1999 at the age of 46.

The last grave that Gunta, Mo and I tasked ourselves to find belonged to the man responsible for making Joy Division sound unique amongst a multitude of sombre, post-punk bands, one Martin Hannett.

A musician himself, Hannett first turned his hand to record production in late 1976 when as Martin Zero he sat behind the console desk to produce the independent Spiral Scratch EP (New Hormones), the first salvo from Manchester’s Buzzcocks. After Buzzcocks he continued to produce for other Manchester/Salford acts such as Jilted John and John Cooper Clarke as well as many of the bands on the Factory Records label in which he was a partner. But it is the work with Joy Division for which he is best remembered.

His understanding and mastery of studio gadgetry and techniques, such as mixing live drum sounds with synthesizers, resulted in a uniquely distinctive sound that still make Joy Division stand head and shoulders above many of their contemporaries. By all accounts, he wasn’t an easy man to work with. He knew what sounds he wanted to achieve, whether the band understood or agreed. In fact he was not one for canvassing the opinion of the band either. He once stated of Joy Division, ‘They were a gift to a producer, because they didn't have a clue. They didn't argue.’ In fact, according to drummer Stephen Morris, Hannett employed several rouses by which to discourage opposing opinions from the band, including maintaining the control booth at an ice cold temperature to keep band members and their gripes away.

In later years Hannett went on to work on the commercial success that was ‘Bummed’ by Happy Mondays as a freelance producer, having left the Factory fold.

Increasing drug and alcohol abuse ultimately led to heart failure and Martin died on 18th April 1991 at the age of 42.

His headstone is very unassuming but carries a very big inscription, it reads:

‘Record Producer And Creator Of The Manchester Sound’

Not that these three titans of the Manchester music scene would have conferred prior to their untimely demise, but it was reassuring to see that each of the headstones were in black!

Thus ended our Joy Division themed gravestone expedition…. or so I thought.

At the end of our stay in Didsbury, having said our goodbyes to Mo and John we headed south. The night before, just as we were turning in for the night, I casually mentioned the fact that Macclesfield was just fourteen miles away… and since it was in the right, southbound, direction, could we perhaps call in to just one more cemetery. You see, I had my eye on the big guy, Ian Curtis. Gunta obliged and very soon we were motoring through some very verdant Cheshire countryside en route to Macclesfield Cemetery, located about a mile outside of the town. Entering the grounds before 9am on an Autumnal Sunday morning was beautiful. Ground mist was still visible in patches in the shallows of the cemetery. Getting our bearings we found the location where Ian’s ashes were interred with relative ease, which was surprising given the scale of the memorial. I said that Martin Hannett’s headstone was unassuming… however, it looks like the tomb of Lenin in comparison with the marker for Ian Curtis. The plot is tended and the only indication of a musical past was a handful of weathered plectrums.

I will not expand on Ian’s history as it is so well known. I will just say how poignant it was to see the resting places of these four men, all pivotal to success and legacy of Joy Division and the wider music scene of Manchester. It is all remarkable that they all died way too soon.

‘Victory Over Blindness’ Manchester Piccadilly Station

 

I have a huge interest in The Great War. Not from the perspective of grand strategies or successful or disastrous campaigns but from the human perspective, the impact that the war had on the men who fought (not forgetting those ‘Roses of No Man’s Land who did their upmost to save them in battlefield clearing stations and hospitals) and each and every combatants loved ones on the Home Front.

Men and boys thronged to any building that doubled up as a recruitment office in answer to the famous call by Lord Kitchener that all eligible men should step forward to do their bit for ‘King and Country’. Older men did just that to defend treasured British values and the principles of Empire. Young men stepped forward too, but their reasons to take the King’s shilling were in many cases far less jingoistic, rather a spell with the colours represented an opportunity to escape from the shackles of poverty, the hardships of factory existence or the drudgery of office working.

Regardless of the motives to enlist, the war was a great leveler and before too long, all soldiers, without regard of class or civilian status were exposed to the same hardships and horrors of modern warfare as experienced on the Western Front (as elsewhere). Of those shared horrors, a gas attack must have been one of the most feared and when it did happen it was one of the most horrendous of the brutalities meted out by either side.

Leaping forward some 107 years, I made my way from Euston to Manchester Piccadilly to meet Mo for a Soft Cell anniversary gig at the O2 Academy in town. Stepping out from the station for the first time I was confronted by an extremely striking bronze sculpture. I promised myself to pay it more attention on my return…. but unfortunately poor organization on the day of the return journey resulted in a sprint past the sculpture in order to make the train back to London. On my next visit, I did make the time to see what it was all about… although I did have a good idea.

The sculpture is entitled ‘Victory Over Blindness’ by Cumbrian based artist Johanna Domke-Guyot. She pursued a degree in Fine art after receiving a devastating MS diagnosis in 1998 and her work presents her with difficulties related to the Multiple Sclerosis, including elements of visual impairment.

The final version of ‘Victory Over Blindness’ that now graces the entrance to Manchester Piccadilly Station was commissioned as part of the Great War centenary events, but prior to its unveiling in Manchester by the Countess of Wessex it had toured other venues in concrete rather than bonze form.

‘Victory Over Blindness’ in concrete displayed at Westminster Abbey, London

Study in wax for ‘Victory Over Blindness’

In its permanent Mancunian home it is accompanied by a plaque which states the following:

‘Victory Over Blindness

Johanna Domke-Guyot

Remembering the returning blind veterans

Of the First World War

More than 3,000 veterans lost their sight as a result of their service in the First World War. Making their way home from the front they began their journey to rebuild their lives after sight loss.

In 1915 a charity was founded to support them. Blind Veterans UK, formerly St. Dunstan’s has continued to support thousands more blind veterans to live independently as they begin that same journey today.’

The piece depicts a precession of seven wounded soldiers with injured eyes bandaged, each gripping the shoulder of the soldier in front. The sculpture is intentionally a three dimensional mirror of the famous ‘Gassed’ painting by John Singer Sargent. This huge, almost lifesize,  painting is housed in the Imperial War Museum in London. Sargent, an American war artist was commissioned to paint the piece based on his own experience. That experience came in the form if a German bombardment in August 1918 in the Arras sector in which mustard gas shells were used. Expose to mustard gas (1-Chloro-2-[(2 chloroethyl) sulfanyl]ethane to chemistry nerds…. I was one but had to look it up!) resulted in blindness, severe lung damage and blistering of exposed skin.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gassed_(painting)

I struggle to imagine the fear that gas attacks instilled in front line soldiers. I could be talking nonsense here but at least a bullet or a high explosive shell offered the possibility (with no guarantees) of a quick and clean death. Gas offered no such thing, rather a painful and lingering demise.

Wilfred Owen perhaps made the best attempt describing the horrors of a gas attack in the English language in what must be one of the most damning pieces of writing concerning war, ‘In Dulce Decorum Est’:

'Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—

Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.'

The saddest thing of all is the fact that when I saw the ‘Victory Over Blindness’ monument and decided to write a piece on it online I was looking at it in terms of a memorial to the horrors of a bygone age, more than a hundred years distant from today. However, at the time of writing, March 2022, politicians are seriously discussing the possibility that Vladimir Putin could deploy chemical and biological weapons against Ukraine. I for one never thought that I would here such talk on such a scale. Sad times indeed.