http://www.gq-magazine.c...sion-new-order-interviewWould you say the situation with New Order is unsortable?It's not unsortable… but from their position, maybe it is. Ask them. If you took the emotion out of it, you could easily do it. From my mind, looking on, I think Bernard was really, really hurt that I decided to stop working with him. I handled it badly, I must admit. I should have gone and seen him, but I didn't. I hid behind their managers, who were, funnily enough, also my managers at the time. I was rebuilding my life after my alcoholism. I just felt that me and Bernard had completely different ideas, completely different ambitions for the band, and unfortunately, as much as I hate to say it, our musical differences were huge. He liked vocal-led pop that was produced within an inch of its life and I wanted it more musical, rawer, and I wanted it to have more life, as opposed to having the life crushed out of it by ten producers. That happens with age. You don't expect people to stay the same, do you? When you're in a relationship, you grow apart, that's what happens in life. Our musical differences were huge. Now our business differences are huge.
What sort of problems did you come across working with Bernard?Towards the end of New Order, I was compromising too much and, in my opinion, he wasn't compromising at all. It's what happens in groups. It's not new. What pisses me off is that he makes out I've got this huge ego. My ego was about wanting my bass guitar to be on the track. "I'm the bass player - can't I be on the track?" [Affects posh voice] "Your ego is disgusting! Look at his ego - he wants to be on the New Order track!" How could he do that? Because you wanted to appear in your own group, you had a huge ego.
In the book, you mention there were differences appearing between you and Bernard at the start of Joy Division, when you went on holiday together to the south of France in the late Seventies.I don't profess to be perfect, but I am the way I am. What happens is, you have friendships and then you have colleagues. The colleague that you work with, you might like him, but he's a colleague. Bernard was a friend and then he became a colleague. That was sad for me, but we had differences in our approach to people, and that led to it. I'll hold my hands up, and I will make the confession, that the best music I've ever made in my life, I made with Bernard.
It worked very well.Yes, and it does work. It probably would work if we were put in a room together - which is highly unlikely. We'd probably kill each other. But the thing is, if you put us in a studio together now, we'd make great music and that's just a fact of life. As a musician, that's frustrating. Joy Division, when I play it, is not as good as when Joy Division played it. I'm not stupid - it's different.
Despite the battles, you're still fair with Bernard in your books - especially inUnknown Pleasures. You call him a great guitarist. When we spoke a few weeks ago, you remarked that Bernard deserves success because he's a hard worker.He is a really hard worker, a total perfectionist, which can be infuriating, but ultimately he'll work very hard. It's the truth. I admire that. It's a pain in the arse the way he does it, but f*** me, man, he really works. So I've got nothing but admiration for what he does, but I might not agree with the way he does it, or his ambitions for it, but I'm very, very in awe of his work ethic.
I was astonished to discover that Hook is the name of your stepfather, not your own father.Yes, me and Bernard have a lot in common. We never knew our fathers. We were both adopted. It's weird, that. One of my regrets now, as an old man, is that I didn't know my dad. I'll write more about it in my New Order book. When we weren't that busy in New Order, I used to go to the pub every Friday night in Salford with my mates. I used to drive there, down the same route from where I was in Withington. My dad, I found out years later, used to follow me. He used to sit outside the pub and wait till I'd finished. He'd watch me.
That's really sad.It is. I've got three stepbrothers and a stepsister that I don't see. My mum wouldn't let me have anything to do with his family. He was hopeless in a way that most men are. Absolutely useless. Very old-fashioned. Even when he would demand to see us, he'd just lock us in the house and go to the pub instead and get drunk. So it was a waste of time. He did it just to annoy my mother. But, as I've grown up with my son and daughters, and I sit there and look at them, I think it would have been nice to have known my dad. He died of lung cancer.
Edited by user 10 October 2012 09:12:50(UTC)
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