Tag: <span>Joy Division</span>

Dresden, 1985 (incomplete and fragmented reconstruction)

It feels like the morning after. In beautiful but pale late summer sunshine I stare at the whisky-ginger ale in front of me, freshly refilled, then at Henry on the other side of the small round aluminium table, then across the boulevard at people hurrying for lunch, or back to the office again, I don’t…


In the Dutch Mountains!

The long road from my home town to the next. Not winding, just boring. Straight. Small canal on the left, small canal on the right. It’s raining, just another autumn evening, on my way to one of my friends, or is he even? We are all gathering there, the four of us, but am I…


Let’s get physical

In the age of streaming listening is continuous rather than discrete. The absence of a physical product creates a relationship that is far more fluid than it was before in the age of vinyl or CD. The absence of a physical product removes the need for albums or, to be more precise, the need for…


Here are the young men

I wonder if my story is typical, but as I’m having this thought I know it isn’t. Society is not the same anymore. Well, it never was. Compare decades and noticeable differences are immediately visible. Still, there is a fundamental difference between before and after Internet. My story of discovering Joy Division is a random…


The syllogism of musical identity

People’s sense of identity is very closely related to the music they likePeople stop listening to new (categories of) music after the age of 33 It can therefore be argued that the identity formation process gradually slows down and almost completely stops after the age of 33. This crude syllogism of (musical) identity bothers me….


How did she kill the joke?

There was always tension in this group of self-declared Punks and Post-Punks hanging around behind school, in the corridor between the main building and some temporary classrooms. These kids, his mates, playing cool, exchanging the latest in music and fashion, smoking first cigarettes, getting ripped off in the pursuit of weed and, above all, circling…


These memories can’t wait

Sunday afternoon. I browse through my collection of audio tapes. Yesterday I finished Rob Sheffield’s ‘Love is a mix tape’, today I wonder how much love my old tapes express. It’s not a fair comparison, Sheffield tells a love story supported by mix tapes, my old tapes just demonstrate a utilitarian drive to collect as…


So this is permanence…

There is always a truth behind the truth, a reality behind all visible reality, one that no one wants to confront. The dark side of the moon, the deepest deep of the darkest ocean. It’s there, but we actively ignore it. It’s too painful. We rather stay at the surface, where everything feels safe. If…


Girl anachronism

If an anachronism is something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time, especially a thing or person that belongs to an earlier time, as the English dictionary seem to suggest, then I’m a big, fat anachronism. My clock is set to the 70’s and 80’s and I have difficulty relating…


Am I living in this movie?

I’m living in this movie…is it…moving me? First there was music and then, all of a sudden, it became a quest for identity. First a song was just a song, couple of verses, a refrain, maybe a bridge, over and gone in just over three minutes, then it all got much more serious. During my…


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