Joy Division, "Novelty"

In these stark times I find myself turning to the kind of dark, mysterious music that can speak to the unease I carry around with me every day. No band has ever topped Joy Division when it comes to articulating daily dread of life under late capitalism.

It makes sense that they emerged from Manchester on the eve of Thatcher's ascendance. In the nineteenth century Manchester was the first industrial city, the test case for a new way of life. In the 1970s it and many cities like it were hitting decline. The "modern" world was becoming postmodern. Out of the ruins of the industrial revolution Manchester bands like Joy Division created postmodern music, deeper and more challenging that the scream and spittle of punk rock.

"Transmission," a non-album single, is my favorite of the band by far. As I wrote about it a couple of years ago, it is enthralling, from its telegraph-operator bass to the unorthodox beat to the searing guitar lines to Ian Curtis' voice sounding like a man crushed by the wheels of life. However, if you flip that single over, you hear a B-side that's much more than a cast-off: "Novelty."

I first heard it on a box set I bought year ago and was amazed that such an arresting song was left off Joy Division's regular albums. The intro is long and mysterious, Bernard Sumner's guitar building up into a killer riff. Like "Transmission" the rhythm sounds like a desperate telegram sent at night from a doomed city. It creates a feeling of claustrophobic desperation, with Curtis intoning "Whatchya gonna do when the novelty wears off" and "Whatchya gonna do when it's over." While it may not be the official meaning of the song, I've always thought of it as questioning the consumer novelties of modern life. Once they are seen to be as empty as they are, what's then to be done?

The novelty has worn off, to be sure. However, the answer to Ian Curtis' question remains unanswered.