In September 2016, I went to my first ever gig. Nervous and alone, I stood among the Manchester crowd comprising all different ages and subcultures. Bringing it together was Peter Hook, co-founder and bassist of Joy Division and New Order. That night, Hook smashed through an extensive setlist covering both bands, concluding with ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’. Thereafter, I was initiated; this particular show would set the precedent for every gig to follow.
Peter Hook // Mark McNulty
True to name, Peter Hook & The Light (formed in 2010) illuminates a catalogue left to collect dust. With the colourful electronics of New Order came resistance to the band’s past life as Manchester’s finest post-punks. Upon splitting for good in 2007, Hook sought to reverse this trajectory through The Light. Consequently, the atmosphere of their shows is one of pure celebration; from Ian Curtis to Tony Wilson, Rob Gretton to Martin Hannett, Factory folklore comes positively to life.
Eight years after that night in Manchester, I have the pleasure of interviewing Hook for his current Substance tour. Through the window in front of me I can spot the higher echelons of York Barbican where The Light will play in October. More immediately, however, my laptop screen is hit with the dreaded notification:
‘Peter Hook has joined the waiting room.’
Sh*t.
Beyond the interviews, books, and the music itself, I wonder is Hooky as sound as he seems? I’m meeting a hero, after all.
Fret not. With his usual “yer alright mate?” and a defiant choice of clothing, or lack thereof, I was soon at ease. The shirtless approach is for good reason, mind you. Hook’s trading Manchester for Majorca this week – a brief, but well-deserved break between tour dates.
Pleasantries ensue and we head straight into questions. I’m curious how The Light’s currently looking. Indeed, since 2015, Hook’s son and occasional bandmate, Jack Bates, has played bass for Smashing Pumpkins. “He’s doing a big tour with them right now supporting Green Day. Huge venues!” Jack will undoubtedly return but for now, he’s busy. Dave Potts, however, is still around. The two have been working together since 1989, a longer period of time than Hook worked with Bernard Sumner and Stephen Morris. Between 1997 and 2000, he and Potts released two LPs as Monaco: Hook reflects:
“Of course, I then made the bad mistake going back to New Order which was like going back to an old girlfriend and realising all the sh*t you hated about them in the first place.”
For fans, the break-up plays out like a fierce argument between mutual friends. While you’re hesitant to take sides, you understand their respective animosities. If there’s one saving grace, however, it’s the uptick in live Joy Division. When The Light originally formed, Hook anticipated a legion of older, die-hard fans from back in the day. In reality, there was, and remains, a plethora of young faces comprising the crowd. Hook thanks an influential figure whose input he once contested:
“Martin Hannett gave us the gift of longevity. I can safely say that without his production your father may not have been playing Joy Division to you.”
When interacting with these younger fans, Hook is regularly hit with the loaded question. “What was Ian [Curtis] like?” His reply is both grounding and surreal. “Just like you, I tell them.” Hook’s memory of Curtis will be familiar to fans; the ‘lad’s lad’ that enjoyed a few pints and a laugh, but also a bookish type that read Burroughs and Gogol in his downtime. Reality and myth often blur, but suffice to say, Curtis was mortal.
“He was 19 when I first met him. He didn’t know what he wanted to do in life, he just formed a band with no real thought other than banging out a few tunes with friends.”
Peter Hook // Adam Kennedy
Curtis’ artistry would inspire future musicians from Henry Rollins to Danny Brown. With his legacy in mind, Hook’s initial revival of Joy Division walked a tightrope between tribute, reclamation, and “aping”, in his own words. Rowetta [Happy Mondays] convinced him to sing, for no-one else had “the guts.” Fourteen years on, Hook has settled into frontman duties and is willing to make a bold claim that might irritate a fan or two:
“The Light have played Joy Division for so long it sounds like they actually wrote it. They play it so naturally and if you compare it, you’ll find some parts of it are better than Joy Division simply because they’ve been finished off.”
For this reason, the band have made ample time for Substance. On the New Order side, Substance (1987) forms a collection of pop hits sure to get the most cranky concert-goer going. In contrast, Joy Division’s Substance (1988) comprises everything from early B-sides to iconic standalones. The material speaks to their prolific output over four brief years, but ultimately lacks the polish of Unknown Pleasures (1979) and Closer (1980).
“You can still hear inconsistencies in the [Substance] recordings. Back in those days you didn’t have the money to record it again so you were always capturing a rough edge. Forty-four years on, you correct those little errors.”
The Light do not wish to usurp the original takes; they’d prefer to reinterpret them with the same “heart and soul,” as Hook puts it. Headline shows make for epic love-letters to a rich discography, often spanning 150 minutes with a small breather between sets. “It’s pure indulgence on my part,” Hook admits, “but it pleases me greatly.” The success of this format has materialised in a notable crowd shift:
“When we first played New Order as The Light, all the Joy Division fans went to the bar. When we played Joy Division, all the New Order fans went to the bar. Now, they don’t move.”
Since 2010, The Light have powered through both catalogues. Inspiring this approach was a fifty-four song set at Ian’s local church in Macclesfield where the band blitzed through every track Joy Division had recorded. Curious as to whether Hook faces any lingering difficulties with the material, I’m reminded of that decades-long argument:
“The Joy Division stuff is very natural, very easy. New Order sounds like you’ve got someone missing, which I quite like in a way. Gillian [Gilbert] tried valiantly but she could never replace Ian. The songs are good but you have to put a lot of things together to make up for them. It’s like a table with a wobbly leg. Joy Division was perfect and New Order always had a bit of a wobbly leg, but the songs are great.”
As with most breakups, the feelings from both sides are complex and often contradictory. In the space of five minutes, Hook can go from describing creative differences (“I was losing my bass lines by the bar!”), to then compliment the result of Sumner’s stubbornness.
In-group tensions, ecstatic club nights, sunny adventures on the side of madness. The Ibiza recording sessions were eventful to say the least. So much so, Hook initially resisted his memory of this period and the work it produced. These days, however, he speaks of Technique with reverence. “‘Fine Time’ sticks out, dunnit?” The acid-house opener epitomised the group’s changing dynamic. After a night out, Sumner penned the song “more-or-less on his own.” Hook awoke the next morning to a largely electronic track, fighting tooth and nail for his brief, yet effective bass cameo. Nowadays, he can appreciate the final work.
Meanwhile, ‘Run’ forms the centre-piece to a one-of-a-kind anecdote that Hook seamlessly recalls:
“I was in Heaton Park with my kids a few years ago. Beautiful summer day. You remember how people used to walk around with ghetto blasters? This topless kid had one with him and it was blaring this great music. I thought, “my god, that’s fantastic!” I thought, ‘whoooo is that??’ Anyway, I ran up and got hold of him. I go “mate, mate, who’s that yer playing?” He pressed pause and went, “Hooky… it’s Technique.”
Decades on, Hook’s ready to embrace it all; from a rowdy Joy Division track of their Warsaw days, to a forgotten Republic (1993) deep-cut, the passing of time has been rejuvenating. Reestablishing his relationship with the wider discography reminds Hook of an ideal that Rob Gretton lived by:
“When we used to moan about money to Rob he’d turn around and go, ‘I’ve given you something that will last forever and you’re moaning about half a million quid (…) You can’t buy a heritage like this!’”
Sure enough, 2024 has seen The Light touring everywhere from Perth to São Paulo, Prague to Toronto. “In a funny way,” Hook admits, “Rob was right.” Likewise inspiring these adventures is a grounded mindset that keeps him working tirelessly throughout the years. Hook points to his upbringing and the work-ethic it installed:
“When I was 12, my mum used to cut a piece of cardboard and put it in my shoe to cover the holes. If it was raining, you were screwed (…) Maybe sometimes I’ve worked too hard because I don’t want to go back to that. That’s why my wife says I’ve got so many pairs of shoes now, more shoes than I could ever wear!”.
Now, at the age of 68, I’m curious how Peter Hook would define success beyond his shoe-rack. The question catches him a little off-guard; he’s had an easy ride so far. For this one, he’s contemplating his words before speaking. “You can answer however you’d like,” I assure him. Ultimately, the answer lies somewhere between the two Movement (1981) tracks that Hook sang: ‘Dreams Never End’ and ‘Doubts Even Here’. I’ll leave the final words to Hooky:
“When I look at what I have – a beautiful wife, wonderful children – I count that as success. I still have to work for a living, but I have loads of shoes with, not without, holes, so I’m very happy about that. Success is intangible, really. If I wake up in the morning, mate, that’s a success – I’m like, ‘wow, another chance to f*ck it up!’.
I still have the same problems and doubts that everybody else in the world does. I’ve learned that nobody is one thing (…) I’m very proud of what I’ve achieved. Bit of a blip with the others in ‘New Odour’, which probably still needs remedying, whether it’s Henry Kissinger or however, but yes, life’s good. Life is good.”
Watch and listen to the full chat below:
Tour dates below:
