STACK NZ Jul #64

MUSIC

REVIEWS

visit www.stack.net.nz

With the reissue of Joy Division's albums, Graham Reid goes back inside a deep moment in rock.

By most measures, Joy Division out of Salford in Manchester in the late '70s were a rare band. In the hands of producer Martin Hannett their spare and cavernous sound was somewhere between post- punk and (whisper this low) ever-present disco with the emphasis on Stephen Morris' powerful driving beat, the bass of Peter Hook mixed high like a lead guitar,

Led Zeppelin Presence Finishing off the ‘reissues with lotsa goodies’ rollout from Zep’s official catalogue (wait until they hit the live bootlegs!) includes this seldom-referenced offering from 1976. Up there with all the blistering Viking blood- screams of Immigrant Song is the opener, Achilles’ Last Stand , a crushing drum and wailing guitar 10min+ soundtrack to imaginary battles between Gods and monsters, creation and destruction, light and shade

and the swirling melodic keyboards and nagging guitar of Bernard Sumner. And out front was singer and lyricist Ian Curtis who would commit suicide on May 18, 1980 . . . just before the band was to leave for their first American tour.

An early death is a big deal in rock culture. Like some prehistoric insect

– it’s no wonder Jimmy Page claims it as his favourite Zep song. The effortless jigger-jagger ‘co-cay-co-cay-cocaaiiine’ groove of For Your Life leads into the sharp bright pulse of Royal Orleans. Then there’s Nobody’s Fault But Mine. No Led Zep fan worth their salt cannot but help air-guitar and recite all lyrics verbatim the very second this hits the ear. At 2min 47sec, the track mesmerisingly ups the ante further by planting a harped boot on your throat, reminding you just how engulfing and fully aware of their projected energy this outfit possessed when ‘on fire’. The extras on this release aren’t exactly as ‘Oh My God!’ as the others, but the trick here is to realise that the oft-unsung sum of this album’s original parts are integral (and nicely remastered, to be sure) to the hallowed legacy of Zeppelin’s tenacity to ‘explore’. Chris Murray

embalmed in amber, the dead never age. They remain forever young, beautiful and full of promise. Today Curtis would be almost 60 if he'd lived, but when you listen to his lyrics – and factor in mental instability and epilepsy – he was never going to make old bones. A poetic spirit impelled him, so comparisons with the suicided Sylvia Plath (dead at 30, face down in the gas oven) and the like are not far from the mark. But in rock culture what made Curtis unique was he, like Jim Morrison, sang in a baritone which conveyed an emotional weight never available to the likes of Michael Jackson or Prince. He sounded serious. And he was. throughout (“Where will it end,” in Day of the Lords , “Why is the bedroom so cold” on Love Will Tear Us Apart are typical) and everywhere there was introspection and bleakness. Perhaps because Curtis dealt with universal themes of emotional distance and self-doubt – as well as the music being not time-locked as overtly “post-punk” – Joy Division will always find a new audience. And their time has come again with the reissue of their two Hannett-produced albums Unknown Pleasures and Closer (on vinyl); their essential Still collection of unreleased studio material and the live recording of their final show at Birmingham University a fortnight before Curtis' suicide (double vinyl); and the Substance collection of B-sides and such on CD and double vinyl. That final concert on Stil l is hard to listen to, knowing what would follow soon after: On Disorder he screams, “I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling feeling feeling feeling”. That final “feeling” sounding like a note of defeat. Ironically then, his bandmates didn't quite realise what was going on inside Curtis' disturbed head until after he died. Only then did they look at his lyrics: few colours other than grey; images of isolation and endings; questions

Various Artists Dylan, Cash and The Nashville Cats

Duran Duran Rio (Remastered) Hey, Boy Band, yes you! Stop and listen. Before you were born, Simon Le Bon and co. were touring the globe, bedding supermodels and doing more drugs than Hunter S. Thompson; all the while delivering #1 tunes that didn’t rely on 'interpretive dance moves' to fill stadiums. They made video clips that were banned, made their own fashion, lived like artists in exotic locations and led bohemian, aristocratic and eccentric lives like a very select few on the planet. They still look good, have hair, and can put on a live show that requires nothing other than amps. This is where it all began – Rio. It’s cheesy and awesome, and still guaranteed to have someone within your vicinity immediately dancing with wild abandon. You need it. Chris Murray

This is a companion release for an exhibition (of the same name) currently showing at Nashville’s Country Music Hall of Fame & Museum. Both explore the many artists who travelled to Music City to record in the ’60s & ’70s, following the lead of Bob Dylan, the popular lure TV’s The Johnny Cash Show, and the rich talent pool of session musicians known as The Nashville Cats. Artists like George Harrison, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen and many others were unable to resist a taste of the Nashville Sound – the era became a time of historic musical crossover, of pop, rock and folk, with the country music of Nashville. Denise Hylands

And on the thrilling Transmission , the last time he would ever sing it, we can hear it isn't about dance, but desperation.As he screams over and over “dance, dance, dance to the radio” you know this is not the dance of life. It's the dance of that ever- present other. And he knew it.

For more from Graham Reid visit www.elsewhere.co.nz

JULY 2015 JB Hi-Fi www.jbhifi.co.nz

48