Unknown Pleasures by Joy Division (1979)

Once upon a time, there was a band called Joy Division. They had a bassist a bit like John Entwistle, a singer a bit like Jim Morrison, a guitarist (and keyboardist) a bit like Robert Fripp, and a drummer a bit like Jaki Liebezeit (Can you guess?). And they stole every other element of their music from Wire. But importantly, they made music. Up until the point where the singer did himself in. After that, nobody seemed to care about this music.

You can take this moment to lament the destruction of western civilisation if you want. Regardless, Joy Division pumped out two worthwhile LPs, the first of which was Unknown Pleasures. But why would you want to listen to them when you can just as easily listen to those people they’re so similar to? In fact, why would you want to listen to them when you can just as easily listen to those people they’re inferior to?

You can’t make the argument that Joy Division weren’t derivative. You can, however, say they were original. As much as they borrow from their influences, none of those afforementioned musicians would make anything like Unknown Pleasures. The Who were bass heavy, but far less dark. The Doors were very dark, but too straightforward in their musical pretensions. King Crimson were avant garde to an extreme, but not nearly as lyrical.

But what is this sound that manages to be both derivative and original? Listen to Disorder, the first track. A fairly simple drum rhythm is set up with just the snare and the high hat. After a fill, the bass begins, with an equally simple rhythm, but which doesn’t match the drums in the least. The guitar comes in, alternating between two notes, and again, without synchronisation. And finally, we hear Ian Curtis, singing in an openly emotionless tone, rhythmically contradicting the instruments.

You might think this wouldn’t work, but it has a surprising amount of cohesion. The fact is, these guys are (or were) masters of setting moods. Every piece of the song fits, in an artificial, rather than organic, manner. The disjoint instruments only add to the dark, fearful atmosphere. In fact, almost any criticism of the music falls to this same argument. The endless repetition, only serves to drive forward this tone.

And this isn’t to speak of the lyrics. They mean nothing at first, but this is only because they need time (and sometimes repetition) to be absorbed. They fit the music perfectly. Simple and without flourish. Discontinuous. Seemingly devoid of emotion. But you can’t listen to these songs without feeling them. The band may have abandoned all else for the sake of mood, but what’s the point of music without it?

This record isn’t without its flaws. All the songs are essentially identical. That description above wasn’t unique to Disorder. That’s the Joy Division formula. They might not all be exactly like that, but the effect is the same. They’re somewhat like AC/DC in that respect. Only AC/DC were more diverse in their early period (basically before this record).

Perhaps comparing Joy Division to AC/DC is rather gauche. But why listen to fourty minutes of music, when the same effect is gained from four minutes? Again, this repetition is done to build a mood. The record is conceptual in this sense. But that raises another flaw. If this mood doesn’t fit you, you’ll never enjoy the music. But really, that’s your problem.

Joy Division were a one note band. And Unknown Pleasures is a one note record. But that note is played very strongly. Whether that note resonates with you is a personal question. Unknown Pleasures has everything about Joy Division, good or bad. But this is certainly a worthwhile album, especially if you enjoyed their predecessors (a few of which were mentioned) or their successors (which are too many to count).

~ by Draco N. Slayer on 26 December, 2008.