Peter Hook & The Light: Live Review

 

Pet hate: running late. Of all days to be late why did it have to be when Peter Hook was to be belting out tunes from two of the best bands ever born? A two hour set consisting of two New Order albums:  “Movement” (1981) and “Power, Corruption and Lies” (‘83) PLUS some Joy Division classics. Peter Hook and The Light bellowing in Manchester Cathedral; I could not miss this for anything.

Their influence clearly looms large today as Peter re-visits his past in one of the best venues in Manchester. I entered into an eager, crammed and mainly middle aged male crowd where anticipation lingered in the gloomy holy air. A good place to pray this wouldn’t sound like a tribute band.

All the lights go out and a live orchestra pours out emotive classical music; emphasising a choirs beautifully light but strong celestial vocals that waver through the gothic setting. Hook suddenly appears on stage as though he’s been teleported “Evening all” he says with effortless cool and displaying an unshaven Ray Winstone look. He suddenly kicks into “In a Lonely Place” as people stand in awe and silence swiftly followed by “Ceremony”; cue a sea of mobile phones in the air and major head bopping.

 

 

The riled up crowd was taken back to the period when the band transcended from the post punk to the electric fused era, manipulatively done; the first hour consisting of post punk, chopped in with added bass that gently flowed into a poppy electro Hacienda feel. They’ve clearly been working their socks off; the aid of the young looking band; The Light, added a stream of freshness; replicating tunes to not sound like a tribute band. Truth, Everything Gone Green and an intense, mouth dropping version of She’s Lost Control, sounded like they were made more recently rather than 30 years ago. All the tracks had a strong line of raw power with added punkier components (without destroying them) making old New Order songs sound weightier than the light popiness cousin of Joy Division that it initially was.

Now, a good musician can’t avoid public spats though; Mani (Stone Roses, Freebass and now Primal Scream) once twitted “3 things visible from space, Great Wall of China, Peter Hooks wallet stuffed with Ian Curtis’ blood money and Man City’s trophy cabinet”. Ouch. To be fair to him, Hook does seem to have increasing involvement with memorial projects: opening the nightclub FAC51, releasing books (Unknown Pleasures: Inside Joy Division), an Ian Curtis exhibition and performing the music of Joy Division at his recent gigs. Some people think he is taking advantage of his previous position, suggesting he seems to rely on Joy Division success and has little interest in up and coming musicians despite opening FAC51 to apparently encourage bands to progress within the music world.

Nostalgia plays big business in the music industry and despite Hook playing new material with electronic band AutoKratz and Freebass there’s still a debate whether or not him still playing Joy Division tracks is either his way of celebrating the band or milking it. He was a great bassist and song writing collaborator for Joy Division and in a way he has a right to do what he wants with it. I personally would have been a bit gutted if he hadn’t of played any of their tracks at the gig as part of me was expecting him to.

 

 

But, despite all this, the music was as tight as a pair of wet skinny jeans and although their first album wasn’t greatly received when it was initially released, Hook seems to have turned it inside out. He’s reflected a different light on the tunes; giving them a unique edge and tone; redefining them with his perfunctory vocals. Speaking of that, his voice was creepily akin to Ian Curtis’. It was raw, with speckles of melancholy, passionate and powerful with an element of pain and hurt and quintessentially northern.

Throw in a lack of smiles from Hook, haunting guitar lines, doom laden melodies and a bass so mighty it reverberated through the never ending arches you got yourself a haunting, enthralling and spine tingling poignant gig. I thought I had killed off Blue Monday ten or so years ago but I couldn’t help but smile and dance to it as though it was the first time I had heard it as the gig drew to a reflective close. It was technically crisp and precise, experimental and surreal and the closest you could get to experiencing one of the most influential bands ever created.

Maybe singing old Joy Division tunes in his new band gives him some sense of closure; he recently stated he wanted to play every song he had collaborated with before he died. Maybe some fans think he’s meddling with sacred tracks and maybe some think things are better left untouched.