New Order > Power, Corruption & Lies [Collector's Edition] > Fact 75 Power, Corruption & Lies < Peter Saville

Power, Corruption & Lies [Collector's Edition]; front cover detail
Power, Corruption & Lies [Collector's Edition]; front cover detail

Release date

29 September 2008

Tracklisting

Power, Corruption & Lies:

01 Age of Consent
02 We All Stand
03 The Village
04 5 8 6
05 Your Silent Face
06 Ultraviolence
07 Ecstasy
08 Leave Me Alone

Power, Corruption & Lies bonus disc:

01 Blue Monday (12" Version)
02 The Beach (12" Version)
03 Confusion (12" Version)
04 Thieves Like Us (12" Version)
05 Lonesome Tonight (12" Version)
06 Murder (12" Version)
07 Thieves Like Us (Instrumental)
08 Confusion (Instrumental)

Liner notes

It was seven and a half minutes long, but even the BBC Radio 1 playlist found space for Blue Monday in the summer of 1983. Those who were transfixed by the frigid, rhythmic majesty of New Order's signature song included the Pet Shop Boys' Neil Tennant, who was so overawed he briefly considered giving up music after hearing it, and Eurythmic Dave Stewart, who it made re-start a whole LP from scratch. It was that kind of record. Being New Order, of course, its creators didn't even bother including it on their next LP.

But there was a sense that for New Order too, Blue Monday signified a new beginning and a farewell to old ways of working. The singles released around 1981's Movement had all pointed this way, true, but they had been rock-dance hybrids with an accent on the rock. This was entirely new. Accordingly, Power Corruption & Lies, an LP whose foreboding title you had to decode from a colour wheel on the sleeve, effected its own year zero. As evinced by Bernard Sumner's excitable whooping on opener Age Of Consent, this was the sound of a young band celebrating their existence. It was a process that, says Bernard, had begun two years previously.

"We'd been recording in New York with Martin Hannett, and at night, obviously, we wanted to enjoy New York," he recalls. "One particular night in this one club, I don't remember which one, I was pretty off it and I heard a sequenced synthesizer track... and I just clicked. I thought, wow, it'd be great to hear one of our tracks in a club like this. I mean, we weren't actually making club tracks at the time, but that was a real inspiration. You could call it an epiphany, I suppose. I thought, 'I want to make music like that.' It sounded fresh, like a new beginning, both from the point of view of club music and electronics. And we needed a new beginning. At the time, over here, it was crappy soul jazz-funk, really cheesy music, and even cheesier clubs. You'd be stuck to the carpet when you went in, and there were mirrors everywhere... real meat markets."

Certain very important elements were coming together. By this time Factory and New Order had opened The Haçienda, AKA FAC 51, the iconic nightclub that had also derived its essence from New York clubbing, and which probably expressed the Factory aesthetic in its purest form. It wasn't far, then, from the fabulous NY pleasure-loft of Bernard's mind to the more earthbound latitudes in which to realise these new sounds. After vacating their old space in Salford, the group had acquired a new rehearsal room/ studio in Cheetham Hill. "It was behind the gas board and next to the cemetery, and it had no windows," recalls Gillian Gilbert. " The level that we were on was actually below ground, so we were at the same level as the bodies! We'd got into writing every day, instead of rehearsing three days a week, so we'd come up with more songs."

"It sounded terrible," adds Steven Morris. "It was like an early Haçienda, we'd spent a fortune on it, to make it in into a studio... and the acoustics were shite. Even the equipment didn't really work very well. But the idea was still 'how far can you take it?' And how far you could take it was Blue Monday."

When recording time came, the band passed over their usual berth at Strawberry in Stockport to go to Pink Floyd's Islington studio Britannia Row , whose vintage desk was known for the vivid clarity of its sound and which had huge speakers for those immediate, in-the-disco playbacks. And much of what would appear on the LP was computer music with bold colours - powerfully rhythmic music with brains, intrigue and poetry that suited review in club conditions as soon as it was recorded. Perhaps a good way to interpret New Order's palette of influences at this time is to reflect on Gillian's memories of nights clubbing at Heaven and days on the tourbus listening to Ennio Morricone's spaghetti western scores, Wendy Carlos' Clockwork Orange soundtrack and Kraftwerk. Getting tooled up with an Emulator, Oberheim DMX and a Prophet 5 would also cause a considerable shift in the band's sound.

" Got to give them their due, Bernard and Steve in particular, they were really exploring technology and sound," says Peter Hook. "What happened was they programmed the synths and the drum machine, then Mike Johnson and I worked on the production, so I did get involved. But there was definitely a change in style. It became a bit of a blend. Movement sounded like Joy Division, but Power, Corruption & Lies is the first New Order record. You have a distinct sound in that. That marriage of electronics with rock is a very unique sound. Tracks like Everything's Gone Green and Temptation led the way to Power, Corruption & Lies."

"We always ended up working nocturnally," says Stephen. "There was a lot of acid about, Power, Corruption & Lies was a psychedelic sort of thing. You'd have a little bit..." "Apart from me," adds Gillian.

In Britannia Row, the group would jam songs onto 4-track and then programme them, adding synthesizers and overdubs, and finally vocals. Age of Consent, the irresistible power surge that opened the album, was completed like this; the repeated pulses of Ultraviolence certainly sound like they was put together using instinct rather than foresight. The ensuing tension, generated by the rhythmic imperative of dance and the power and lyricism of rock, put plenty of fuel in the tank. Hooky's bass playing on the beautifully simple Your Silent Face, for example, interacts with the gliding sequencers like a dream. 5-8-6, an embryonic Blue Monday, has its mechanistic, symphonic disco moves undercut by tortured vocals. The somnambulant We All Stand is like the Peel session cover Turn The Heater On as narrated by Richard Burton's character in The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. They were fusing rock and electronics when no one else wanted to, and the effects are electrifying.

The amount of electronic gear also made concert performances a high wire walk of crossed fingers and ingenuity. "Oh God, we had so many breakdowns playing live," says Gillian. "It was like spinning plates anyway, and stuff would go out of tune and out of time because the power wasn't very good, and everybody'd look at eachother, or me! Or these synths that were made for being left in a studio with air conditioning on would overheat. We used to have condensation dripping on them and throw 'em in trucks! It was worth it though - we've been watching gigs that Rob used to video, and they sound fantastic, even the mistakes. There's one where Barney sings 'who killed my father?' (the original title of Ultraviolence) and you hear SKKKKKSSS!, the whole PA goes. Dead spooky!"

The live New Order experience was shared by many millions on March 31 1983 when Blue Monday rose high enough for the band to invited onto on the BBC's chart run down Top Of The Pops. Introduced by jocks Richard Skinner, Steve Wright and a man in a bunny suit, this inscrutable performance saw Steven and Gillian immobile behind synths, Hooky adding syn-drums and backing vocals and Bernard wearing a denim jacket in honour of that week's fellow performer, rockabilly guy Shakin' Stevens.

Though not as impressive as the recorded version that was painstakingly pieced together in Britannia Row, the incongruity and high weirdness of the event could not be denied. "I thought that was stupid actually," says Bernard. "Blue Monday was really breaking us, and it wasn't really a great song, I saw it more as an amazing sonic event. It's got this amazingly propulsive beat, a great bottom end - so to put all that time and effort into the production, and to then go and plug your little sequencers straight into the BBC's mixing desk, and they'd never recorded a live band before on TOTP, it wasn't gonna be good. It was more Rob's idea, but of course he didn't have to go up onstage and actually do it. It was commercial suicide... but from an ideological perspective, it was good."

To New Order, the ideological perspective was all-important, as a way to demonstrate their creative and promotional autonomy - that elusive, self-willed quality that meant you never even questioned Hooky's right to be bearded. It also completes a circle for this reissue's second disc to restore Blue Monday to its parent album, as on the original American issue of Power, Corruption & Lies. Cited as the biggest selling twelve-inch singles of all time, it is representative of the quality of this much-imitated piece of music that none of its many remixes have come close to bettering it's thunderous power. "If you hear the sound of Blue Monday," remembers Hooky, "It's down to us putting a speaker in the bathroom in Brit Row. We'd pump the bass drum through this speaker and record it! That's why the bass drum in Blue Monday sounds the way it does." A danceable Mexican stand off between you, fate and death, it's tempting to adapt nineteenth century biologist Thomas Huxley's famous quote about chess to be about the song: "Blue Monday is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the Universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature and the player on the other side is hidden from us..." Keep on dancin'.

Present too is the Arthur Baker production Confusion, frankly shocking on its first release and still inarguable. This collaboration was another serendipitous event; having been piqued by Baker's electro-dance productions of Afrika Bambaataa's Planet Rock and Rocker's Revenge's Walkin On Sunshine, the group went to New York in 1983 without a pre-prepared song and, says Hooky, gave him 12 hours of jamming to work on after he put them in a studio for the day (later Baker's pal John Robie would also become an important part of the New Order story). When complete, Confusion amounted to being trapped in a game of disco-tetris surrounded by slamming piano lids; a de rigueur selection on New York radio station WBLS, its video was filmed in the Paradise Garage with Baker and Madonna's sometime-boyfriend Jellybean Benitez gauging the dancefloor heat from the DJ booth.

Also reunited with its contemporaneous album is the Factory Benelux 12" Murder, a Movement-flavoured blast of drums and noise featuring samples from the movies Caligula and 2001: A Space Odyssey, plus a whip cracking sound effect made out of string and gaffa tape by Bernard who had, says Steven and Gillian, taken to wearing a white lab coat at the time. "We'd got into sampling, that was the thing on Power, Corruption & Lies," says Stephen. " We'd got the Emulator, which was like the first sampling keyboard. I remember it turning up in Cheetham Hill. All this technology, thousands of pounds, and do you know what the first thing they did was? Sampled a fart. Ha ha! It didn't appear on a song though..."

The euphoric, bittersweet Thieves Like Us completes our revisiting of Power, Corruption & Lies, it's chorus of "Love, Love, Love" showing just how far New Order had come since the more shadowy climes of Movement. "By this time we were much more confidant live, and we were all so much more confident songwriters," opines Hooky. "We'd filled the gap if you like. I look on it as a hurdle, because we definitely got over that hurdle that was in our way." Bernard agrees. "I think we'd found direction and that gives you confidence," he says. "I think in Movement we'd lost our self-confidence. On Power, Corruption & Lies we'd started to enjoy it again. We'd got over Ian, we'd started using machines, and life was good again."

There would be new challenges ahead, with the following year bringing them a new label in America and a career in the ascendant in the world's then-biggest market. They were bound for high places, living the Low-Life.

Ian Harrison

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Tracklisting as per Rhino publicity