Joy Division supported Buzzcocks at Liverpool University on 2nd October 1979. It turned out to be a historical event.
From my memoir:
“Buzzcocks were one of my favourite bands. I’d seen them at Eric’s several times and in October they played at the students union. I wore my new multi-coloured pastel striped shirt from the Help the Aged shop, in homage to the colourful shirts the band wore on Top of the Pops. I expected them to be good, but they were trying not to be a pop group and I was hugely disappointed.
The support band were more interesting. Joy Division had played Eric’s before but hadn’t made much impression on me. This time there was something else going on.
I wrote in my review: “‘Gothic’ has become a somewhat overworked definition of the genre”, and compared the band to the Banshees. Years later, this would turn up in academic papers on the origin of the term “gothic” in rock music, even though I hadn’t actually originated it.
There’s also a quote from my review in Deborah Curtis’s book Touching from a Distance. It’s attributed to Penny Riley. So much for fame.”
And yes, I know I did call them “the Buzzcocks” throughout the review. Pedants may point out there’s officially no “the” in the name, but we all did it at the time.
THE BUZZCOCKS/JOY DIVISION
Melody Maker, October 13, 1979
Mountford Hall, Liverpool
TWO groups far removed in style, related only by being "Manchester Bands". Or are they? Both overturned preconceptions, and in the process certain similarities were revealed.
Joy Division contradicted their bleak image by producing dance music, while the Buzzcocks, continually trying to shake off the "pop" image, showed a serious, even disturbing side, now coming to the surface in self-consciously analytical lyrics on the new LP.
Joy Division's lyrics, on the other hand, are totally inaudible anyway, which is something of a loss — they could have illuminated the tone of the music. I wasn't particularly familiar with their work, due partly to the evasiveness of the vinyl (brought on by sudden popularity), and partly, to a reluctance to submit to the whole LP at once (previous chance encounters being less than comfortable).
Hence my surprise. Instead of punters slashing their wrists, there were people dancing. Instead of dirges, there were experiments with varying speeds within one song. The only image is non-image, uniformity of clothing, attention focused on the idiosyncratic dancing of singer Ian Curtis, and the whole thing notable for a complete lack of verbal communication with the audience.
"Gothic" has become a somewhat overworked definition of the genre, but the effect of Joy Division is the same as (to take an obvious example) that of the Banshees. It's music that washes over you, music to surrender to. Only then do you receive the maximum excitement — personal response is vital.
The Buzzcocks were depressing, because so disappointing. I'd danced all through the set last time they played here, I'd admired and assimilated and sung the new LP, and was looking forward to a pleasant, undemanding evening. It didn't happen.
It may have been the first gig of the tour, but after three weeks in America that's no excuse. The only other possible reason is that it's a deliberate policy, an attempt to change images.
The audience, however, had come for heroes, and greeted the first few songs bravely with mass pogoing, cheers and tumultuous applause. "I Don't Mind" was first, at times a masterpiece, a classic of quiet perfection as only the Buzzcocks can create, but tonight was spoiled by lost vocals. "Autonomy", never the most coherent of songs, was messy and leaden.
Another ruined classic, " Ever Fallen In Love", led to the first of the new songs (and a plug for the LP) with " Mad Mad Judy". Perhaps Steve Diggle should take the lead vocals more often; Pete Shelley's voice always seems too fragile on stage.
From then on it was old songs, one after the other. The dancing stopped but there was noise and darkness, more noise and clever lights, lots of self-indulgent drumming, and more clever lights — but still no dancing.
The new songs forming the second part of the set were an improvement, and Shelley's vocals actually approached anger on "I Don't Know What To Do With My Life".
Unfortunately, the intended climax fell flat: Shelley, alone on stage repeating "There is no love in this world any more", just looked awkward. "So why bother?" he concluded, and left the stage, sounding as disillusioned as I am.
There shouldn't have been an encore, but they did one anyway. It was "What Do I Get". Exactly.
Back in the 21st century
Grant McPhee has released a trailer for his film The Pool of Life, about “the Liverpool bohemian underground of the 1960s and 70s”. I’m really looking forward to seeing the finished film.
You might have seen Teenage Superstars, his film about the Glasgow indie scene, on Sky Arts a few years ago. This promises to be even better (well, obviously, cos it’s Liverpool).
So I saw this tour three weeks later (at Sheffield's Top Rank), and interestingly still ranked it (in my music themed novel https://challenge69.substack.com/t/challenge-69-the-story-so-far ) as one of the five best gigs I've ever seen.
JD were breathtaking, especially Ian C's vocals and dancing on 'Transmission', and I can still recall Shelley's endless acapella of, "there is no love in this world any more," at the end, after the band had departed. Maybe he'd got better at pulling off the effect by then!
Great article! Hard to imagine this happening today: the intended climax fell flat: Shelley, alone on stage repeating "There is no love in this world any more", just looked awkward. "So why bother?" he concluded, and left the stage, sounding as disillusioned as I am.
As for the academic getting your name wrong... that's woeful.