A New Order Blog

With New Order's re-release of an expanded edition of Movement, I thought I'd dust off an old blog about one of my favorite bands and how it informed my first novel...

Previously Posted in February 2013

Lost Sirens, a handful of previously unreleased tracks recorded just before New Order’s acrimonious split back in 2006, was released last month without much fanfare. Comprised of castoffs from sessions for Waiting for the Siren’s Call, the album has been criticized as an inconsistent offering, best left for completists (like me). Still, Lost Sirens displays hints at what once was and what could have been. Tracks like I’ll Stay with You and Hellbent recapture some of the magic found on Movement, Low-Life, and Brotherhood, Peter Hook’s bass and Bernard Sumner’s riffs snaking and slithering, intertwining like charmed serpents on a staff.

Unfortunately, it will take more than the healing power of a caduceus to mend the rift between Hooky and what has become the “Newest” Order. The members, both ex- and current, continue to snipe, Sumner bemoaning Hook’s uneasy sobriety and Hook criticizing Barney, keyboardist Gillian Gilbert, and drummer Stephen Morris for daring to continue on without him.

What does any of this have to do with Dead Things? More than you might think.

There are several underlying motifs in the novel, threads beneath the broader themes. If themes are ships on the ocean conveying meaning, motifs are the symbolic ideas swimming below the waves.

For instance, Dead Things honors genre greats through direct reference (Charlton Heston, Stephen King, etc.) and loose anagrams (Ira Ridge = Diego Rivera, the artist and confessed cannibal; Roger Gerome = George Romero; etc.). There’s also deference paid to music (chapters named after songs, discussions about punk pioneers, lyrics wrapped into the narrative). More to the point, the reunion of a father and son—named after Peter Hook and Bernard Sumner—symbolized my hope for a New Order reunion. Heck, I even named the period between the apocalypse and the Rapture after the band.

That last bit was probably a bit prescient. Peter Hook being accepted back into the fold is about as likely as the Second Coming happening during my lifetime. Or to put it another way, Morrissey will rejoin the Smiths on stage before Hooky ever returns to New Order (still, I also once dismissed the possibility of a Stone Roses reunion, so what do I know). So, instead, I am rejoicing in the news that the remaining members of New Order have announced that they will be recording a new “synth” album.

Does it bother me that Barney and company will retain the New Order moniker sans Hooky? No, not really. His departure, much like Gillian Gilbert’s exit before him, does not warrant a phoenix from the flames rebirth. Hooky is no Ian Curtis. And the group is, by all accounts, spectacularly happy now that Hook’s received, if you’ll allow, the hook.

I think I understand why. It seems the bassist has a penchant for winding people up. In recent weeks, Hook’s memoir has lead to public sparring with other bands, including the Cure and A Certain Ratio. I can’t help but think he’d be a cancer backstage, in the recording room, on the tour bus…

If New Order is going to put out a new album, I hope they do it right. Here’s a list of some suggested dos and don’ts… (Editor's note: they did, and it was awesome)

EMBRACE NEW WAVE. Gillian Gilbert spent days manually programming every note for Blue Monday into a synthesizer. The entire sequence was laid out over the length of the recording studio with Post-Its. That’s a labor of love, and that type of love was certainly missing on Waiting for the Siren’s Call. Clearly, her keyboards are key to linking the nostalgia of what was to what will be.

OBSCURE SONG TITLES ARE ENCOURAGED. Before the 90s, many of New Order’s song titles were devoid of references to their lyrics. Rather, they were informed by cinema, books, and even current events (Fine Time was so-named after Morris received a parking ticket; Blue Monday was named after an illustration in Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions). True Faith and Bizarre Love Triangle are amazing songs made even more so by the mystery of their titles.

KEEP THE HOOKY BASS BITS. I recently saw New Order live, and Tom Chapman assuaged any fears that the band would be hookless without Peter Hook. You don’t need to prowl the stage and look menacing to play bass. Chapman has the chops, so go ahead and incorporate those high, melodic bass lines into the next album. Although Peter Hook created those basslines, they will always constitute the New Order sound.

DON’T LOOK FOR INSPIRATION IN CLUBS, AND DON’T RECORD IN IBIZA. While hitting the clubs with Jellybean Benitez and Arthur Miller worked for songs like Confusion, club music did not work for the latest album offerings. Songs like Jetstream and Guilt is a Useless Emotion came off more like teen pop theme park advertisements. Unlike Blue Monday, they have an expiration date. Please stay clear of the pervasive womp-womp-womp-pom-pom-pomp of Skrillex and his acolytes. If you need some modern influences, look no farther than The Chromatics, Future Islands, or Wild Nothing. Today’s bands are stealing from you; it’s okay to take back what’s yours.

DECLARATIVE STATEMENTS ARE A MUST. My friend, Paul, and I recently discussed my frustration with the state of Barney’s lyrics, both in New Order and Bad Lieutenant. Newer songs come off like a note passed furtively by a 14-year old girl. You expect each question to be followed by a lyrical check box—yes, no, maybe so—and you cringe when the professor reads the thing out loud in class.

New Order has never shied away from lyrical queries. Witness:

“How does it feel…?” Blue Monday

“So why don’t you piss off?” Silent Face

“What good’s a lie when you have nothing to hide?” This Time of Night

“Won’t you show me, show me the way?” Everything’s Gone Green

I allowed for these inquiries, however, because of their gravitas and rhetorical nature (he’s not really expecting an answer…he’s just really upset). More recent instances lack both and drive me crazy for another reason: Barney’s penchant for a particular exclamation.

“Hey, there, what you going to do?” Dynamo

“Hey, Joe, what you doing?” Who’s Joe?

“Hey, now, what you doing?” Hey Now What You Doing?

“Hey, you, what is the matter?” I’ll Stay with You

“Hey…” Snore. See a pattern?

Look, writing lyrics is hard, especially when your catalog consists of hundreds of songs. But writing should be fun. I’m no songwriter, but my next novel, Freaks Anon, features an aging musician who has lost his creative edge. It juxtaposes his writer’s block with the lyrics of his youth. Here’s a sample:

Ugly American Girl

In Paris when we parted

You left me broke in heart and wallet

Kicking rocks along the Champs Elysee

With no words left to say…

Except…

You took my love like a cheap souvenir

A bit reminder of your stay here

You took a photo to remember my face

Another memory for you to misplace

(Chorus) Ugly American

Ugly American

Ugly American Girl

You shop like Rue St. Honere will fold

Snatching up hearts like designer clothes

Wear them once, your haute couture

This year’s fashion’s on tomorrow’s floor

Chorus

No one likes

No one likes a tourist

No one likes

No one likes a tourist

A tourist, a tourist, a tourist…no

So grab your bag and make your plane

Don’t show your pretty face here again…

Okay, you get the idea. But if Barney follows his own advice from Confusion--“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies"--he'll hit his stride again.