Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE 

82. Vanishing Point by New Order

I RECALL Peter Hook friend requesting me on Facebook and thinking that he must be a really shit DJ. 

His latest creation, Hacienda gin, also looks shit. That the two bands most synonymous with his name are by far the most celebrated amongst folk I know sort of irks. They had their moments for sure, but were fashion victims. That his cement slab style bass is possibly the most distinctive is testament to him. He looked and acted like a welder but definitely gave their sound an edge. 

I fell in love with Low-Life but struggled thereafter. Gillian Gilbert helped steer them away from a pure dark introspection that added to their mythology and toward a more colourful radio friendly synth-pop sound. I fucking hated True Faith, their first stab at lyrical compromise to garner radio-play, because it was too obvious. And it rendered Hook's unique bass sounds pretty pointless.  

However, by the time Technique came out, they fully comprehended the pulsating electronic beats that rendered Hook's unique bass sounds pretty redundant. And more importantly, so did we. This track is the exception and like some monolithic being, Hook wields his semi-redundant bass like an early agricultural farmer with a scythe, not knowing whether there'd ever be another meaningful moment. The rest of the band looks like they're in Ibiza with all the latest technology at their fingertips and the contrast is magnificent. 

I saw them play it in Reading in 1989 in the pissing rain when we tried to surrender to their dynamism like we were still in Manchester. Needless to say, the Sugarcubes went  down better where I was perched. Unlike True Faith, this album track is given proper space to breathe. It makes the contrasts more exciting; it makes the lyrics sound more meaningful, and it makes the overall effect quite dizzying and overpowering. New Order never came close to recapturing its brilliance. 

Perhaps if Hook hadn't snidely bought the Hacienda trademark rights in 2001, he'd still be in some form of working relationship with New Order and not feeling so royally shafted. But then there'd be no gin.