DISORDERLY CONDUCT Sounds 124/86
Live review by Jack Barron



DISORDERLY CONDUCT



NEW ORDER
Oxford

The imperfect kiss. Tonight I should have stayed at home and played 
with my pleasure zone.
  I believe in the land of New Order, an ice dust island of volatile
emotions entwined with electro-wash creepers and rhythmic sidewinding
snakes of shake. For myself, I bring in the carrier bag of the mind
expectations of the excellence this band are capable of and fears for
the indulgences that sometimes crack their crystal citadel of noise 
into a million jagged edges. Tonight the latter prevailed, and 
unfortunately, it wasn't even funny. 
  The sub-culture New Order have constructed for themselves - and it is
just that, an aesthetic separateness - is now under serious threat
precisely because of their dancefloor popularity. They attract a large
number of stiffs for whom the band is a soundtrack to mewling and 
puking.
  I know that sounds like an elitist statement but it's something that 
the band are unable to cope with other than reverting to their infamous
cynicism and spite games. "God, you're so f***ing boring, no wonder we 
haven't played in Cambridge for six years" - Bernard Albrecht. "We are 
New Order and we don't give a f***" Peter Hook, pummeling his bass 
like it was a heckler's face. Just two of the many comments from the 
stage.
  I've always viewed such typical wind-ups with the chuckle they 
deserve, only this evening the effect was to lay to rest in a coffin an
audience that was for the most part dead already. 'Shellshock'? Sure,
we were suffering from it, but so did New Order whose streamlined
platinum fenders of melody became twisted and crushed under the 
jackhammer of their ire by the time the as yet unrecorded 'Broken
Promises' was launched. 
  A fan jumped onstage to grab Hook and was treated to a sullen stare.
The audience stood around bewildered for 20 minutes. I don't know 
whether or not an encore materialised because I walked outside. "What's
so good about New Order?" my partner asked. "They're like life itself:
unpredictable and occasionally magnificent," I laughed. It's obvious.
							JACK BARRON   




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