Sunday, September 25

Joy Division

It's been a busy weekend here in Lina-ville.  We took advantage of the beautiful weather and went hiking both Saturday and Sunday.  Friday night I was reminded that I'm not 25 and under any more at a coworkers house warming.  I had a good time, but beer pong and flip cup are not common occurances at my house parties these days.  Although I know there are still some people who over indulge at our house, they generally don't leave proof of this at the end of the driveway.

Mr Lina likes a lot of influencial music that is just noise to me, typically, he knows where that line is and goes to those shows on his own.  He was a rather angry person in his high school/university days, so a lot of angry music takes him to his "roots".  I like Culture Club and Corey Hart for the same nostalgic reasons as he likes Ministry (or their side project Revolting Cocks) or KMFDM.  So I was a bit surprised when there was an "OMG PETER HOOK IS COMING TO TORONTO!!!!" email (I may be exaggerating) and he bought tickets for us, my manager (who shares taste in music with Mr Lina) and a friend of his from high school (there are many Manitobans among us).  I had no clue who Peter Hook was, but I trust him.

Peter Hook was a guitarist in Joy Division.  Joy Division had a couple of albums under their belt, a big following in the UK, success in Europe and about to go to the US.  They would have broken big.  But, their lead singer commited suicide the night before their plane was to take off for the North American tour.  This was his second attempt at suicide.  He was struggling with his mental health, epilepsy, felt the pressure of the band, his failing marriage...  lots of factors.  The remaining members felt they couldn't record as Joy Division any more and became New Order.

The concert was awesome.  Truly.  Opening acts were okay, well themed to the music we would be hearing.  When Peter Hook hit the stage, my feet already hurt from standing (another reminder I'm not 25 anymore).  The music was good, I start moving along to it.  I don't know any of the music, but it was good.  Then he left, we cheer, he comes back for encore.  The music gets more dancable, I'm totally grooving along now, again, still don't know anything.  Then he leaves, I figure well, that was good.  But no house lights.  He came back AGAIN.  Now everyone is dancing, crowd is happy and friendly and dancing up a storm.  And then he closed with a song I do know. 

Mr Lina was right in his excitement and taking me along.  I was so hyper from dancing and moving, driving home at 2am, I felt 25 for a little while.

5 comments:

  1. Whoa, that's the second time in 12 hours I've found myself listening to that song by accident. Someone did a cover of it in a Criminal Minds rerun and then you posted on it. Serendipity!

    The Hubs and I also have totally different musical taste, but we try not to inflict them on each other. I'm more into Sisters of Mercy and he's more Peter Gabriel, but I think the biggest divide is actually that I like new music and he'd be quite happy listening to the same old stuff until he keels over. I think the last "new" artist he discovered was Taylor Swift.....

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  2. That is serendipidy. Very strange.

    Taylor Swift, eh? Wow. Yeah, maybe broadening the horizon wouldn't be such a bad thing. Even finding modern acts that sound like what he likes. Mind you, I listen to a mix of retro 80's and talk radio when I'm commuting so maybe I shouldn't throw rocks in my nice glass house.

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  3. Sounds like a fun weekend! (It's funny what 25 means to different people, though, at 25 I was married, in grad school, with two small children---partying was not even an option, never mind a regular occurrence. When I want to talk partying, I reference 18.)

    We're entering the perilous world of parent-vs-child music appreciation. My kids HATE NIN (hubs' favourite). Although he has succeeded in inculcating a fair appreciation of 80s pop...

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  4. It was indeed. 25 was a remarkable year for me. I had ended my 6 year university relationship, my grad studies were not stalling out and I moved back in with my parents, driving to Waterloo once a week. I would do nearly anything to not be at home on a Saturday night with my parents that year so I went out a lot. The drunked crazy stories either happened when I was 25 or second year of university. Other years had the odd crazy moment, but the "renting a hot tub for the weekend" type crazy was those two years.

    25 was notable on Friday night because the host and all but 4 of us, were between 23-26. At least I wasn't the oldest. The house they are renting reminded me a lot of the one I rented in second year.

    Funny how we either embrace parents music or dismiss it entirely. I inherited my love of CCR from my Dad, but I also hate "tear in my beer" type country. I'm coming around to some of it seeing it live at folk festivals.

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  5. I should learn to proof read my comments..

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