Peter Hook – the Joy Division, New Order, Revenge and Monaco bassist is either very brave or very stupid.
Through the 80’s his club The Hacienda helped turbo charge the acid house revolution before it exploded in financial meltdown and hedonistic come down.
His auto biographical account – ‘How Not to Run a Club’ – told of all the massive errors and disregard for convention. He laid it out in unashamed terms in his own direct and lovable ways.
But now he’s back re-opening the building that crushed his last empire.
Yet we aren’t talking about The Hacienda, instead its the former Factory Records building, the architectural indulgence befitting Icarus that’s come alive once more to host Manchester’s party people. And Ben Kelly once again is the architect spending the cash – though you can guarantee they’ll be no more zinc roofing that no-one will ever see getting splashed from eyesight.
Designated as ‘Fac 251’ as its new moniker, the re launch night of this historic venue (formerly The Paradise Factory) saw Hooky play host to all his musical ghosts as his various bands amalgamated to travel the length and breadth of his long and varied career.
Opening with a seething monologue, an ode to hedonism from Howard Marks the 15 track set saw Mani play on bass, his son Jack play bass, Gary Briggs sing and Rowetta step into the limelight to drench us in her haunting voice.
Rowetta indeed shone as she sang the Joy Division anthem ‘Atmosphere’ radiating a coy desperation that captivated before following it up with ‘Insight’ to a massive reception. Worth the train journey down memory lane alone.
Other notable moments were the classics such as ‘Transmission’, ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ and a re-worked ‘Blue Monday thundering from the venue’s Funktion 1 sound system. It seems Hooky’s misspent years in the Hacienda at least taught him the necessity for a belting system.
Hooky also flanked the faithful by uncovering a lost Joy Division track ‘Sisters and Brothers’ that he had recently been reclaimed from what he called ‘a Joy Division tape smuggling ring’ and then completed by Hooky himself; adding perhaps a tad more modern snarling rock than Ian Curtis would have envisaged had he been alive.
As bullish as ever, when some front row commented on the song he roundly declared ‘It’s my fucking club so I’ll do what I fucking want!’ and launched into ‘Warsaw’ as the image of Tony Wilson looked down from the same photo that used to hang from behind the cash desk at the original club owned by New Order and Factory. It was an evening of dancing with memories and testaments.
Emblazoned in a Fac Tee-shirt proclaiming ‘We Made History Not Money’ – perhaps this time around the lack of an acid house storm may make for calmer waters in which this venue may sail into the hearts of the Mancunians once more.
We’ll certainly be there to see what happens.
Keep it loose.
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