How Not To Buy A “Copy of Touching From A Distance”
Yesterday afternoon during my darkest hour I knew that that time had come. I journeyed into the Waterstones near work to buy a copy of “Touching From A Distance”, the biography of Ian Curtis, the lead singer of Joy Division, by his widow Deborah Curtis.
I picked up a biography of David Bowie and took it to the counter. The lady behind the counter dressed in typical Hipster fashion and seemed if anything quite impressed by my choice of book.
I then plucked up the courage to ask whether they stocked a copy of “Touching From A Distance”. I explained it was about Ian Curtis – the former lead singer of Joy Division.
Her face dropped. “Yes, I know the book.”
“I have already read it 40 times.” I reply. “I used to know it word for word by heart. I just threw it away many years ago. Now I want another copy.”
“Ok. I will check” She said, stealing quizzical glances at me whilst she tapped away at her computer screen.
“Yes, we do have it. Would you like me to get it for you?”
“That would be good.”
By the time she had gone up the escalator and returned clutching its black cover, it was clear that she had tried to readjust her facial expressions.
“So, here it is.”
I thanked her and tapped my card onto the reader. It seemed as if she wanted to say something further – above and beyond the menial mechanics of the standard transaction.
Something like, “You take care now, won’t you? And be careful.” But she played her role and I played mine.
Walk in silence,
Walk in silence,
Don't walk away,
In silence.
See the danger,
Always danger,
Endless talking,
Life rebuilding,
Don't walk away.
(Atmosphere, Joy Division).
Next I carried the book to the Holland and Barrett, hoping I would not see the Holland and Barrett girl who has been very actively chasing me for a year. I realised however that she did seem to have given up the ghost some time ago.
In the end there are only so many times a girl can initiate the same one sided conversations with a very moody man about coffee urging him to take her out, asking about his plans for the weekend and trying to establish whether he is single. There are only so many times she can step forward in front of the counter to display her body to talk to him or do a strange dance to catch his attention before waving with both hands before she will realise that she is never going to be able to reach this man.
Her face dropped a while ago. And to be honest, it is just such a relief. I do not have to pretend any more.
I see her watching me whilst I go through the motions of my daily routine of picking up my protein bar and bringing it to the counter.
I place the books down on the counter and I catch her staring at it upside down whilst I make payment. She knows what the book is. That much I can see in her eyes. Like that eerie and ominous choice of album cover for Joy Division’s second and final album, “Closer”, this symbolises the nail in the coffin.
She looks at me knowingly, seemingly having come to a deeper realisation about why she never could make that breakthrough with me.
“You have your hands full today.” She says in a bittersweet tone.
“Yes, that’s right. I have just been bookshopping.” I reply.
She glances at the book again.
“You know it was brave what he did.” I say. “I know people do not see it that way. But he knew that there was only one way out for him, so he decided he had to try and explain himself with his Art before taking that way out.”
“Maybe you are right.” She says before we say goodbye.
"While we were working on Closer, Ian said to me that doing this album felt very strange, because he felt that all his words were writing themselves. He also said that he had this terrible claustrophobic feeling that he was in a whirlpool and being pulled down, drowning."
Bernard Sumner, recollecting on Ian Curtis's mindset during the recording sessions for Closer. October 2007.
"That night I finally came to the realization that Ian was made of a different material, was just passing among us and did not belong to us. Neither did he belong to himself.”
Franck Essner
Heart and Soul
Instincts that can still betray us, A journey that leads to the sun, Soulless and bent on destruction, A struggle between right and wrong.
You take my place in the showdown, I'll observe with a pitiful eye, I'll humbly ask for forgiveness, A request well beyond you and I.
Heart and soul, one will burn Heart and soul, one will burn
An abyss that laughs at creation, A circus complete with all fools, Foundations that lasted the ages, Then ripped apart at their roots,
Beyond all this good is the terror,
The grip of a mercenary hand, When savagery turns all good reason, There's no turning back, no last stand.
Heart and soul, one will burn Heart and soul, one will burn
Existence well what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can, The past is now part of my future, The present is well out of hand, The present is well out of hand.
Heart and soul, one will burn Heart and soul, one will burn
24 Hours
So this is permanent, love's shattered pride. What once was innocence, turned on its side. A cloud hangs over me, marks every move, Deep in the memory, of what once was love.
Oh how I realized how I wanted time, Put into perspective, tried so hard to find, Just for one moment, thought I'd found my way. Destiny unfolded, I watched it slip away.
Excessive flash points, beyond all reach, Solitary demands for all I'd like to keep. Let's take a ride out, see what we can find, A valueless collection of hopes and past desires.
I never realized the lengths I'd have to go, All the darkest corners of a sense I didn't know. Just for one moment, I heard somebody call, Looked beyond the day in hand, there's nothing there at all.
Now that I've realized how it's all gone wrong, Gotta find some therapy, this treatment takes too long. Deep in the heart of where sympathy held sway, Gotta find my destiny, before it gets too late.
Isolation
In fear every day, every evening, He calls her aloud from above, Carefully watched for a reason, Painstaking devotion and love, Surrendered to self preservation, From others who care for themselves. A blindness that touches perfection, But hurts just like anything else.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
Mother I tried please believe me, I'm doing the best that I can. I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through, I'm ashamed of the person I am.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
But if you could just see the beauty, These things I could never describe, These pleasures a wayward distraction, This is my one lucky prize.
Isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation, isolation.
Passover
This is a crisis I knew had to come, Destroying the balance I'd kept. Doubting, unsettling and turning around, Wondering what will come next. Is this the role that you wanted to live? I was foolish to ask for so much. Without the protection and infancy's guard, It all falls apart at first touch.
Watching the reel as it comes to a close, Brutally taking it's time, People who change for no reason at all, It's happening all of the time. Can I go on with this train of events? Disturbing and purging my mind, Back out of my duties, when all's said and done, I know that I'll lose every time.
Moving along in our God given ways, Safety is sat by the fire, Sanctuary from these feverish smiles, Left with a mark on the door, Is this the gift that I wanted to give? Forgive and forget what they teach, Or pass through the deserts and wastelands once more, And watch as they drop by the beach.
This is the crisis I knew had to come, Destroying the balance I'd kept, Turning around to the next set of lives, Wondering what will come next.
“Closer”
very near to (being or doing something).
the last part of a performance.
