'Temptation' - New Order (1982)

“Up, down, turn around,

Please don’t let me hit the ground. 

Tonight I think I’ll walk alone,

I’ll find my soul as I go home.”

Songs about walking home alone. Those are my favourite songs. (He says, with the right to change his mind at any time, so don’t hold me to it.) See also The Smiths’ ‘Rusholme Ruffians’ (“Though I walk home alone, my faith in love is still devout”) and The Wedding Present’s ‘My Favourite Dress’ (“A long walk home in the pouring rain, I fell asleep when you never came”).

Can’t get enough of them. 'Now That’s What I Call Some Good Songs About Walking Home Alone.’ I’d buy that album. (Are you listening record companies?)  

Of course, this is because I’ve spent far too much time traipsing around on my lonesome. Let’s just say it’s through choice and there’s a certain romanticism to it. (Except it’s not always. And for ‘romanticism’ read ‘bitter sting of rejection’.)

New Order’s ‘Temptation’ remains one of the most perfect songs to me. And marries my favourite theme of long walks home alone, with my second favourite theme of not being able to remember the colour of people’s eyes (“Oh, you’ve got green eyes; oh, you’ve got blue eyes; oh, you’ve got grey eyes”). It’s another of those songs that seems to capture one Saturday evening in March 1989 quite perfectly. The answer was she had grey eyes. Well, kind of more silver, but let’s not ruin my memory of the song.

Classic enigmatic Peter Saville cover.
With the band's name nowhere to be found. 

P.S. If you like your indie frontmen in white shorts, you'll love this performance from the archives...

‘The Ballad Of El Goodo’ – Big Star (1972)

"Years ago my heart was set to live, oh.

But I've been trying hard against unbelievable odds."

If David Bowie was playing in my car parking space right now, I wouldn’t even look out the window. Well, ok, I’d probably take a peek, because I love Bowie. But I know I should really have seen him as Ziggy at the Hammersmith Odeon on July 2nd/3rd back in 1973. My excuse is I was only two years old. The same is true of Bob Dylan (who turned 70 this week - happy belated birthday, Bob!). When I get my TARDIS working I’ll be setting the controls for the Manchester Free Trade Hall on 17th May 1966 to see him move beyond his folk roots and dare to to plug in an electric guitar, much to the horror of the "Judas!"-heckling audience. But I just can’t get excited about seeing Dylan in the modern day.

80/90s indie bands reforming to play their ‘classic’ albums at the Brixton Academy have the same effect on me. Pixies playing ‘Doolittle’. Dinosaur Jr playing ‘Bug’. Suede playing, er, ‘Suede’. All great, but I saw them the first time round in small North London pubs and university halls while the songs were often still unrecorded. Play me something new and I’ll be there.

So you can imagine I was somewhat surprised back in 1993 to find myself all smiles to hear that Big Star were reforming after almost 20 years and heading to the Reading Festival. Perhaps it was because they achieved such little recognition for their magnificent trilogy of albums back in the 70s, that it felt like their greatest performance was still ahead of them. My friend Chris was certainly bemused on that Sunday night at Reading as I left him watching New Order while I disappeared through the pungent haze of burning plastic beakers to the Melody Maker stage. Let’s point out here that there are few bands I’d choose over New Order, but we’d seen them at Reading four years earlier playing the sublime ‘Technique’ so I felt pretty certain I’d made the right decision. And I wasn’t disappointed. Orginal members Alex Chilton and Jody Stephens had enlisted two Posies (Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow, fact fans) and treated us to songs from all their albums. It was a revelation to hear ‘The Ballad Of El Goodo’ and all my other favourites played live for the first time.

Chris and I argued all the way back to Reading station that night about who had seen the greatest show. We’ll never really know. But let’s just all agree I had.      

RIP Alex Chilton, Christopher Bell and Andy Hummel.

Spotify linky:

Big Star – The Ballad Of El Goodo

'Run' - New Order (1989)

"So what's the use in complaining,

when you've got everything you need."

This was so very almost the final song I ever heard. See, how’s that for a come back? Straight in to the drama. Bet you’ve missed that.

It’s a sun-drenched Monday, 30th January 1989, and New Order have just released their very last album that was any good (fact!): ‘Technique’. And, oh, was it good. I still remember the Chris Roberts review from Melody Maker that week: ‘It was worth the wait. In Gold.’ And it was. New Order were always my concession to the joys of what we’ll call here ‘dance music’. It’s something I know very little about. But every three years New Order would pop up talking about ‘Chicago house’ or ‘Balearic beats’ and for about a week I’d feel connected to another musical world – with ‘Technique’ it was the thrills of Ibiza in nine perfect pop moments. And then I’d go back to floppy-fringed indie-boy stuff.

So my friend Chris and I have been bursting for the school lunch break so he can drive us in to Camberley town centre to pick up our copies. I’ve spent my £4.49 on the cassette version so we can listen to it immediately in his car (well, actually his mum’s Mini) on the way back. We’ve listened to the first half of the album as we stop at the bottom of a hill near the school gates to let some fellow pupils cross. And that’s when I stare death in the face. Well, in reality, that’s when I close my eyes and quickly curl into a ball in the passenger seat having just glimpsed a car come speeding Dukes of Hazzard-style over the crest of the hill behind us. Then there’s all the sounds you come to associate with car crashes from watching them every night on the telly – tyres squealing, metal scraping, etc. But now with added New Order. The fact that I can still hear Bernard singing, and have felt no impact, means Chris and I have had a near miss. And on opening my eyes, I can see the car behind has managed to steer itself on to the pavement alongside us without harming anything more important than a school railing.

I knew we’d be all right really. At 18, you picture yourself dying to Morrissey or Robert Smith, not New Order. They became like my patron saints of travel. I used to hang the cassette round my neck. No, I didn’t; so no angry comments please.

Note: My 'Technique' cassette is nowhere to be found today, so above is the 12-inch sleeve for the 'Run' remix - fact fans.

Spotify linky:

New Order – Run

'World In Motion' - Englandneworder (1990)

“There’s only one way to beat them:
Get round the back”

My interest in the World Cup begins and ends with this record. It was the only year I knew the name of anyone in the squad. “Oh, yeah, John Barnes. Great rapper.” And it was bemusing to see the nation embrace our most obstinate and wilfull indie heroes. This is a band that for years wouldn’t do interviews or even appear on their own album sleeves, and now here they were on TOTP gurning with Gazza.

It was New Order’s last release on Factory Records, fact fans. And originally titled ‘E For England’ until the FA pulled their worried and frowny faces. Don’t say you never learn anything reading these posts. (Though you can say, ‘You just looked that up on Wikipedia’ – I wouldn’t be able to argue with that.)

It’s a big shame they never got round to writing their long-rumoured Eurovision entry. Maybe there’s a chance yet. The petition starts here.

Spotify linky:
England New Order – World In Motion