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Ryan Seacrest
Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. It's stock up savings time now through March 31st. Spring in for storewide deals and earn four times the points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Hunts, Nerds, Pillsbury, Lowry's, Breyers, Quaker and Culture Pop. Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Stack up those rewards to save even more. Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in store or online for easy drive up and go pick up or delivery restrictions apply. See website for full terms and conditions.
Public Investing Representative
Support for the show comes from Public, the investing platform for those who take it seriously. On Public you can build a multi asset portfolio of stocks, bonds, options, crypto and now generated assets which allow you to turn any idea into an investable index with AI. It all starts with your prompt. From renewable energy companies with high free cash flow to semiconductor suppliers growing revenue over 20% year over year, you can literally type any prompt and put the AI to work. It screens thousands of stocks, builds a one of a kind index and lets you backtested against the S&P 500. Then you can invest in a few clicks. Generated assets are like ETFs with infinite possibilities, completely customizable and based on your thesis, not someone else's. Go to public.com podcast and earn an uncapped 1% bonus when you transfer your portfolio. That's public.com podcast paid for by Public Investing Brokerage Services by Open to the Public Investing Inc. Member FINRA and SIPC Advisory Services by Public Advisors llc. SEC Registered Advisor Generated Assets is an interactive analysis tool. Output is for informational purposes only and is not an investment recommendation or advice. Complete Disclosures available at public.comdisclosures
Poshmark Advertiser
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Jake Brennan
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Ryan Seacrest
O D O O.com there's no championship league for small business owners, but if there was, you'd be at the top of the standings. Because going pro with Lenovo Pro means you've got the winning formation. One on one advice IT solutions and customized hardware powered by Intel Core Ultra processors help you stay ahead of the competition. Business goes pro with Lenovo Pro Sign up for free at Lenovo Dot Slash Pro.
Jake Brennan
Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. The stories about New Order are insane. They hired a notorious crime family to police their Manchester nightclub when it became overrun with gang violence. Their manager did so much cocaine that he suffered a mental breakdown and fought eight police officers when they fitted him for a straight jacket. Their bass player struggled with his own drug habit that led to an undercover police sting and an arrest at the height of the band's fame, they proved that a rock band could make dance music and actually become cooler in the process. And the musical hybrid that they created not only defined part of what the 1980s sounded like, it remains great music. Some of the best music of all time. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset lute from my Mellotron called bathtub grits MK1. I played you that loot because I can't afford the rights to Upside down by Diana Ross. And why would I play you that specific slice of round and round cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on September 20, 1980. And that was the day that the Manchester band formerly known as Joy Division played their first show in the United States, just months after the sudden death of their former lead singer. On this episode, Notorious Crime Families Mental Breakdowns Police Stings Round and Round Cheese and New I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgrace. What did they want? Weed, Pills, Coke? Paco could get them some coke. Paco hooked up all the rock stars when they came to the island. Like Ronnie Wood, Animal Ronnie Wood was. He did an entire gram in one line. Just one hit to the body and you're off your tits all night. So what would it be? Paco waited for an answer. He couldn't say he was a fan of New Order's music, having never heard it, but he was starting to like these four Mancunians all the same. Cause they're about to make him a few extra bucks. Peter Hook, AKA Hooky, the band's bass player, quickly shook his head full of shoulder length hair in response. Nah, they didn't want coke. They wanted the new drug they'd heard about, the one that was readily available here in Ibiza. They wanted ecstasy. Paco was true to his word. He knew a guy. And then New Order were rolling deep. The drug came as advertised. It made music sound sublime, made late nights blur into early mornings. It made you fall hard for Balearic B. The anything goes ethos of DJ culture that throbbed from every sound system on the island. When a DJ made a smooth transition from a hard hitting acid house jam into Queens, another one bites the dust. It felt like it was meant to be, especially when you were on E. Everything old was new again. Everything's gone green. No wonder they called it ecstasy. You wanted to hug everyone, even strangers, even the people who were supposed to be your closest friends, but had gradually become the people you couldn't hardly fucking stand to be around. In 1988, eight years after they had risen from the ashes of Joy Division, redefined themselves and invented the sound of a new decade, the members of New Order hated each other. Well, their drummer, Stephen Mars, and their keyboard player, Jillian Gilbert, were a couple, so they got along just fine. But specifically, Hooky hated Barney. The feeling was mutual. Barney was Bernard Sumner, the band's guitar player and lead singer. Barney was a synth man. More sequencers, more drum machines, less of Hooky's trademark melodic bass. Hooky took great offense at what he saw as Barney's attempt to slowly stage a mutiny in the name of art. This drama, of course, both personal and musical, was what made New Order incredible. It's there in era defining songs like Blue Monday, True Face, Thieves Like Us and the Perfect Kiss, Yin and Yang. Hooky's bass, which he ran through a chorus pedal and played high up on the neck, so high that people still mistake it for a six string guitar, remains the perfect musical foil to Barney's synthesizers. New Orleans Order proved that a rock band could be a dance band and not lose any of its cool. When it came to losing one's actual cool, however, routine drug use was a great equalizer. Copious amounts of ecstasy made Hooky and Barty forget about their differences. It also made them forget about what they were in Ibiza to do in the first place. Make a new album. Three months later and tens of thousands of pounds down the drain, they returned to their hometown of Manchester, England with only one song called Fine Time to Show for It. Tony Wilson, co founder of New Order's label, Factory Records, saw the glass as half full. He later said that the band's time at Ibiza was the most important working holiday they ever took because they brought the island's energy and Technicolor musical palette back to industrial Britain. Balearic beat became the template for the Hacienda, the local club the band co owned with Factory Records and Tony Wilson. At the Hacienda, Manchester became dungarees. Baggy shirts, bandanas, the omnipresent yellow smiley face. The Hacienda was where the likes of the Smiths, the Stone Roses and Oasis collided with acid house music and rave culture. But a rejuvenated nightclub wasn't the only thing Ibiza was good for. The band's fifth studio album, Technique, which they finished at Peter Gabriel's Real World Studios, put their Mediterranean experience on wax. Released In January of 1989, Technique was New Order's first album to reach number one on the UK charts. In the US it peaked at number 32, their highest position to date. And with great success came great excess. When New Order toured to promote the record, they no longer traveled in cars and vans. They traveled in limos and planes. Every night ended with a rave and people danced on tables, fucked in bathroom stalls. Cocaine and paranoia made the rounds until you couldn't see straight. Just like back in Ibiza. Everything felt so goddamn good. You could close your eyes and forget about all the problems. You could actually believe that it was good to be in a New Order. And for a moment, maybe, it was. Dominic Noonan knew at least one of the other guys standing across from him at the pub had a shotgun. Some punk from Moss side or Cheatham Hill, maybe Salford. Little twat thought he owned the place. He thought he owned any place he walked into, like the Hacienda Club that Noonan had been hired to protect. And protect it he did, even when he was somewhere else. Noonan could hear the dog barking outside this little pub. It belonged to one of these pricks that stood before him. They wouldn't stop bringing their gang violence to New Order's club. It was Noonan's job to make them stop. He got an idea. He walked outside. The door swung shut behind him. The dog's incessant barking was suddenly silenced and there was a high pitched squeal. And then nothing. Moments later, Noonan walked back inside. He held a machete in one hand. In his other hand, the dog's severed head. He dropped the bloody head on the Pool table. Noonan looked the guy with the shotgun in the eye. Stay the fuck away from the Hacienda, he said. For the next time, it'll be a human head on this table. By 1991, things had changed. The scene at the Hacienda had gotten out of control. A bigger profile meant bigger problems. Bouncers and patrons were routinely stabbed. Shots were fired in the club's foyer. A DJ was held at gunpoint and told to surrender his records. The cops did. All New Order had no choice but to employ the services of the Noonans, an infamous Manchester crime firm. For those in America listening, Crime Firm is the same as Crime Family, just the English version, not Crime Family or Gang. Crime Firm. That's why I'm using Crime Firm, okay? So save your angry letters. Gang conflict wasn't the only issue, though. The Hacienda was hemorrhaging. Money had been for years. Too many free drinks. That's what happens when 24 hour party people are given a business to run. Every time New Order had a financial windfall, their earnings were funneled directly into the club to keep it alive. And when rave culture hit, the very culture that New Order helped usher in, they found they could no longer give the booze away. That no one wanted to get drunk. They just wanted water. Free water, so they could stay hydrated while rolling on ecstasy. La Hacienda was in serious trouble. And that meant the Factory Records, which effectively underwrote the club, was also in serious trouble. The four members of New Order were facing financial ruin. They were guarantors on the loans for both the Hacienda and Factory, which meant that if the club or the label went belly up, they were personally responsible. And they stood to lose everything. And there was only one way to save it all. New Order had to make a new record. A hit record. A record that was even bigger than technique. Only then could they generate the kind of cash flow needed to keep things running. It wasn't going to be easy. Barney was fucking off with Johnny Marr, Morrissey's former foil in the Smiths, on a side project called Electronic. Which suited Hooky just fine. Because now that all the Ibiza Ecstasy had properly worn off, he was back to hating Barney's guts like it was his job. Hooky knew they'd have to bury the hatchet one more time and figure out how to get along long enough to make something great. How the hell were they going to do that? Easy drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.
Ryan Seacrest
Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. It's Stock up Savings time now through March 31st spring in for store wide deals and earn four times the points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Hunts, Nerds, Pillsbury, Lowry's, Breyers, Quaker and Culture Pop. Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Stack up those rewards to save even more. Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in store or online for easy drive up and go pick up or delivery restrictions apply. See website for full terms and conditions.
Public Investing Representative
Support for the show comes from Public, the investing platform for those who take it seriously. On Public you can build a multi asset portfolio of stocks, bonds, options, crypto and now generated assets which allow you to turn any idea into an investable index with AI. It all starts with your prompt. From renewable energy companies with high free cash flow to semiconductor suppliers growing revenue over 20% year over year, you can literally type any prompt and put the AI to work. It screens thousands of stocks, builds a one of a kind index and lets you backtest it against the S&P 500. Then you can invest in a few clicks. Generated assets are like ETFs with infinite possibilities, completely customizable and based on your thesis, not someone else's. Go to public.com podcast and earn an uncapped 1% bonus when you transfer your portfolio. That's public.com podcast paid for by Public Investing Brokerage Services by Open to the Public Investing Inc. Member FINRA and SIPC Advisory Services by Public Advisors llc. SEC Registered Advisor Generated Assets is an interactive analysis tool. Output is for informational purposes only and is not an investment recommendation or advice. Complete Disclosures available at public.comdisclosures
Poshmark Advertiser
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LifeLock Advertiser
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Capella University Advertiser
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Jake Brennan
1985 somewhere in England Rob Breton, New Order's manager, squirmed uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the Audi 200 Turbo Quattro. He had a problem. The cocaine was gone. That was the thing with Rob and coke. One bump was too much and two bumps were never enough. But he had a solution. It was coke. On the tour bus just a few kilometers up the road, Rob looked over at Hooky sitting in the driver's seat and told him to floor. They're gonna catch that bus. Fuck they were. The bus was long gone by now. It was a fool's errand. That was the other thing about Rob and coke. You just couldn't fucking reason with him anymore. Hooky sank his foot into the gas pedal, shifted up a gear and felt the Audi roar to life. The English motorway stretched ahead. Hooky buried the needle with resentment. He didn't really want to chase a bus full of drugs, because at this point in his life, Hooky had little interest in those drugs. But at the same time, he didn't want to wait and find out what was going to happen if Rob's nose went unpowdered for much longer. Another car came up quickly on the right side. It gained on them. A Jaguar. Not just any Jaguar, driven by any bloke. A cop. Shit. The last fucking thing they needed. The Jag sped ahead slightly and then angled in front of the Audi. Its tires squealed across the motorway. Hooky slammed on the brakes. He brought the Audi to a stop on the side of the road. Then he braced himself for what would happen next. The cop did the whole do you know how fast you were going? Thing. And Hooky did the whole I'm very sorry, officer, it won't happen again Thing. But then the cop let Hooky go with a warning. Strange, even stranger. After the cop sped off, Rob wouldn't stop staring at Hooky. The fuck was the matter with him? You told him I had dope, Rob said finally. Hooky couldn't believe his ears. He told who Rob had what. Rob pointed a shaking finger at Hooky. I was reading your lips, Rob said. He told that copper I had dope. That was the first moment Hooky realized that Rob absolutely had a problem. And it wasn't the bus full of coke that they'd never catch up to. Throughout 1985, Hooky and the other members of New Order watched as their manager descended into full blown drug addiction and full blown paranoia. Heavy drug use wasn't part of New Order's regular routine in 1985. They drank, they did speed, they partied like the rock stars they were quickly becoming. But coke was their manager's bag. Rob's habit was costing £3,500 a week, money that would have gone straight back into the Hacienda's till if it wasn't busy going up his nose. It brought back bad memories of Martin Hannit, New Order's original producer, entitled twat, Martin Hennett. When the band went to make their debut studio album, movement in 1981, Martin refused to get to work until they found him a gram of blow. But he never pulled that shit when Ian was around. Ian, of course, was Ian Curtis, singer for New Order's former group, Joy Division. Dynamic frontman, doom and melancholy in his voice, a perfect match to the coldly detached sound of their instruments. Martin made Stephen Morris record each part of his drum set separately. Bass drum, then snare, then hi hat, take after take, until eventually the human performance was completely drained and they were left with the sound of a machine. Joy Division's new sound paved the way for a whole new genre that would become known as post punk, before it eventually splintered off into new wave, goth rock and more. But before all that, on the eve of Joy Division's first American tour in 1980, Ian Curtis hanged himself with a clothesline in his kitchen. The memory of their late singer hung over the band like a lead blanket. They could barely crawl out from under it on that first tour. Of America, where they were still billed as Joy Division or Extraordivision, or even used to be Joy Division. But they weren't Joy Division anymore. The name New Order reflected that. A creative choice to start over. The name was also deliberately provocative with its inescapable Nazi connotations. Just like how Joy Division was inspired by the name of a brothel in Hitler's concentration camps. Stephen, for one, defended their choice of names, explaining that they always sympathized with with the victims, not the villains. But both Hooky and Barney admitted to more than a passing obsession with the idea of fascism. Hooky acknowledged the quote, certain physical sensation you get from flirting with something like that. That's a quote. Barney, on the other hand, was fascinated with how beautiful art and design could emerge from a culture of hate. The COVID art for New Order's singles and albums, created by Factory Records graphic artist Peter Seville, were inspired by these Italian futurist movement, which had its own relationship with fascism and which, like Bernie's vision for the band, rejected the past and embraced the future. It was all part of an ambiguous aesthetic. The band members weren't identified on record sleeves and they refused to be photographed. They gained a reputation for avoiding interviews. They opposed the cult of personality. But at the end of the day, New Order were a band. Don't fool yourself that bands are democratic. A dictator always emerges. And that person in New Order was Barney, because he was the one who stepped into Ian's shoes first. He wasn't a singer like Ian. His voice was fragile and soft, where Ian's was more assertive and confident. But the more he did it, the more comfortable he became. And the more comfortable he became, the more he felt empowered to steer New Order away from their past. On tour in New York City in the early 80s, he heard and saw the post disco Latin freestyle roll in 808s. Shep Pettibone's master mixes on Kiss FM. When Gillian Gilbert joined, she played keyboards, as did the other members of the group, with increasing frequency. Because guitar, bass and drums, those were instruments of the past. Synthesizers, triggers, pulses, sequencers, drum machines. They were the next movement. At least Barney thought they were. To Hookie, all these new devices were just a royal pain in the ass. So much time wasted on programming machines. Gillian worked for hours making a color coded chart of how the sequencer was programmed for their single Blue Monday. And why? Because if the machine shot the bed, they had a blueprint to reprogram it. In all his years as a professional musician, Hooky had never felt less like one why couldn't they all just play, you know, like a proper band? Couldn't even be a proper banded soundcheck. Soundcheck was now devoted to troubleshooting drum machines and sequencers and finicky samplers that used for floppy diss. The setup alone was labor intensive, and if your name wasn't Bernard Sommer, it most definitely wasn't a labor of love. Still, as frustrating as New Order was becoming for Hooky, he couldn't deny that their song Blue Monday was a massive success, not just for the band, but for factory records. DJs couldn't get enough of the 7 1/2 minute version of the 12 inch single. It's still often called the biggest selling 12 inch record of all time. How did it feel? Pretty fucking good, man. His bass sounded pretty fucking awesome on it too. In that same year, 1983, New Order released Power, Corruption and Lies, their second full length album and first masterpiece. Lowlife and Brotherhood followed in 1985 and 1986, but Brotherhood reflected the division that had developed within the band. One side of the record was a little more dance oriented and the other side was a little more rock and roll. New Order's love for the music had once brought them together, back in 1980 when they lost one of their own and longed for purpose, longed for direction and the strength to carry on. But that was then and this was now. Love couldn't fix this. Love created a divide and love would tear them apart.
Public Investing Representative
We'll be right back after this.
Jake Brennan
Word, word, word.
Ryan Seacrest
Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. It's Stock up savings time now through March 31st. Spring in for store wide deals that earn four times the points. Look for in store tags to earn on eligible items from Hunts, Nerds, Pillsbury, Lowry's, Breyers, Quaker and Culture Pop. Then clip the offer in the app for automatic event long savings. Stack up those rewards to save even more. Enjoy savings on top of savings when you shop in store or online for easy drive up and go pickup or delivery, restrictions apply. See website for full terms and conditions.
Public Investing Representative
Support for the show comes from Public, the investing platform for those who take it seriously. On public you can build a multi asset portfolio of stocks, bonds, options, crypto and now generated assets which allow you to turn any idea into an investable index. With AI, it all starts with your prompt. From renewable energy companies with high free cash flow to semiconductor suppliers growing revenue over 20% year over year year, you can literally type any prompt and put the AI to work. It screens thousands of stocks, builds a one of a kind index and lets you back test it against the S P500. Then you can invest in a few clicks. Generated assets are like ETFs with infinite possibilities, completely customizable and based on your thesis, not someone else's. Go to public.com podcast and earn an uncapped 1% bonus when you transfer your portfolio. That's public.com podcast paid for by Public Investing Appropriate Services by Open to the Public Investing Inc. Member FINRA and SIPC Advisory Services by Public Advisors llc SEC Registered Advisor Generated Assets is an interactive analysis tool. Output is for informational purposes only and is not an investment recommendation or advice. Complete Disclosures available at public.comdisclosures
Poshmark Advertiser
we all have different styles. I may be into Levi's and you may be into Fendi or Miu Miu, but we all should be into poshmark.com? right? Because we can all find exactly what we want to fit our style. Poshmark has millions of new and pre lived pieces. Vintage, luxury, men's, women's, children's, everything from Carhartt to coach. Download the Poshmark app and sign up with code podcast10 and get $10 off your first purchase.
Capella University Advertiser
You've never been one to settle, stand down or stand still. You're a lifelong learner, energized by excellence. There's a fire inside you you can't ignore. You've got competition to outrun, momentum to build on, and your own high standards to meet. Stop now. Not a chance. At Capella University, we help you catch what you're chasing because you've always had the drive. Now go earn the degree. Capella University. What can't you do? Visit capella.edu to learn more.
Danielle Roubaix
This is Danielle Roubaix from Bookmarked by Reese's Book Club. Nothing compares to the anticipation of something new. A new start, a new year, a new home, or a new car. When it's time to get a new car, where do you start? Car shopping can honestly be a little overwhelming, but it should be fun. Buying your next car should be exciting. And it can be if you remember one thing. Cars.com cars.com has the tools and expert advice to help you figure out what vehicle is right for you. Their advanced search filters allow you to explore 2 million new and used cars so that you can find the perfect car. The site is so easy to use. Looking for an electric vehicle with a third row and leather seats for easy cleanup, Cars.com has you covered. A variety of tools and badges are used to Help shoppers understand the price of a vehicle and find the best deal. And every review is written by a real person reflecting a real life experience, so don't take any chances. Do car shopping the easy way. Start your search with cars.com where to next?
Jake Brennan
By the end of 1986, Americans had finally caught on to New Order. And they had some unexpected advocates to thank for that. Music legend Quincy Jones, best known for his work with legends like Frank Sinatra and Michael Jackson, signed the band to a licensing deal. His label, Quest, was Now distributing New Order's album albums in the U.S. meanwhile, John Hughes and Jonathan Demme included New Order tracks on the soundtracks to their movies Pretty in Pink and Something Wild. The band was suddenly a hot UK import, which meant the temptation was harder than ever to resist. For Hooky, there was temptation and there was frustration. It's hard to say where one ended and the other began. He was tired of arguing, tired of wrestling with synths. He worried that this would be the last time his wife would believe all the lies he told her whenever he returned home from abroad. Of course he didn't sleep with other women. He only had eyes for her. What bullshit. He knew that deep down she knew, and yet she let him carry on the charade anyway, whether it was temptation or frustration. On this night In December of 1986, almost 10 years into life as a professional musician and now in his early 30s, Pookie did a of lot line of blow that would change his life forever. And not in a good way. Hooky saw firsthand what cocaine could do to a man. Drove Rob Breton to a full psychotic break. Rob attempted to fight off eight cops when they fitted him with a straight jacket. He was committed for a short period of time, after which he returned. And of course New Order welcomed him back into the fold, though he was never the same. But Hooky wasn't robbed. Or so he thought. It was late. The after party in the Tampa nightclub was electric. The line went up his nose quickly and then everything was on fast forward like he had pressed that double arrow button on a VHS remote and the tracking on the screen went all fluttery and herky jerky images scattered by. Some girl flirted with him. He flirted back. She disappeared, probably playing hard to get. Some kid took her place and said, hey man, that's my sister. Leave her alone. Leave her alone. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hooky gave the boy some lift service and told him to off. The girl came back and Hooky worked his Manchester charm again. Once more she left and the kid was back and he was screaming now. I told you to leave my sister alone. I swear to God. Hooky got a little nervous this time, that maybe this American kid was going to nut him if Hooky got fresh. And when the girl turned up again, Hooky told her that they should go their separate ways. He didn't want any trouble from her. Brother. She furrowed her brow. What brother? Brother. She didn't have a brother. Hooky saw it. Red, miserable, lying twat, cock blocking, Yankee fucko. Hooky found the kid in the crowd and made a beeline. The coke sizzled on the back of his throat like an egg on the hood of a car in late summer. He grabbed the kid by his shirt collar, hit him without warning, and the kid crumpled to the floor. Hooky lifted his leg and stuck his boot in the kid's throat and the kid struggled on his back, his face going red and then blue, his arms lashing wildly. When the club's bouncers finally pulled Hooky away and the kid grasped for air, the kid was thrown out. Peter Hook was in fucking new order, the ones hosting this after party. Hooky didn't need cocaine to tell him that he could do no wrong. But it didn't hurt. What did hurt was overindulging. Two years later, it was 1988, and hooky, like Rob before him, was officially an addict. In a hotel room in Brazil last night of the tour, someone passed him a plate loaded with coke. Hooky hoovered it up. His brain went into overdrive. He rambled. All he could hear was the sound of his own voice. The sun came up and he found some more powder in the pocket of a jacket and snorted it. Someone was unconscious in a bathtub. Half naked girls walked by. Hooky was still fucking blabbering. Jesus Christ. He needed a few hours of shut eye. It was back on a plane tomorrow, back to England, back to reality. His muscles spasmed, his head pounded, his mind raced, but his brain couldn't communicate with his limbs. And later that morning he needed a wheelchair to get on the airplane. All he could think about was how shitty he felt. He didn't want to think about everything else. Like what Barney had recently told the band and New Order were at the height of their burgeoning worldwide success, about to reach heights they never thought possible. And Barney wanted to take a break, pursue other creative endeavors, work with other people. Hooky dealt with it by getting super up, so up that he thought he could never feel worse if he tried. He was wrong. August 1991. Hooky met Stephen and Jillian at their farm in Macclesfield to begin writing New Order's next record. Their future was riding on it. Their club, the Hacienda, was overrun with gangsters and was in serious financial trouble. Ditto for their label, Factory Records. Their asses were on the line. But something was missing. Someone was missing. Barney didn't show up, at least not at first. Too busy with Johnny Marr. It seemed selfish to the rest of the band to leave them hanging in their time of need. But the other three carried on. They wrote and the songs took shape. They sounded fucking incredible. Even more incredible was how the three band members felt. It hadn't felt this way in years. A true closeness, an unbreakable bond. And not having Barney, their de facto leader, there to fuck it all up, that felt best of all. Barney had instructed them to work on new material and he'd come at the end to add his vocals. Brilliant. So that's just what they did. But when Barney finally did show up, he didn't just add his vocals. He rewrote bridges, he rewrote choruses. He rewrote entire songs. In his book, Substance Inside New Order, Hooky claims that Barney endeavored to write him, Stephen and Jillian off the album and effectively make a Bernard Sumner solo record. Hooky got lucky when their producer later had him double back and had his bass guitar in a lot of the places where Barney had taken it out. Still, little mercies such as those didn't relieve the tension that continued to build up within the band. The highs were incredibly high, like in 1990, when the band was tapped to record World In Motion, a song for the England national football team's FIFA World cup campaign. They made amid something that was universally meaningful, and it became their only number one song on the UK singles chart. But a song. You can't stay number one forever. The lows were waiting there. When things settled down, you were made to feel like your opinion was no longer valued, like your input was no longer required, like you were disposable. To make things worse, in late 1992, before the band could finish their new album, Factory Records Wedding went bankrupt. Factory could have been saved, it turned out, if their competitor, London Records had actually bought them, as was the plan. But when it was discovered the Factory didn't actually have contracts with its artists and that the artists owned their own work, London just waited for the inevitable. Factory quickly succumbed to its financial burdens and London swept in to claim New Order for their own brilliant quote. Tony Wilson. Capitalism without bankruptcy is like Christianity without hell. Republic. The band's sixth studio album, the one that had put Barney at even greater odds with the rest of the group, was released on London Records in the spring of 1993. It was the commercial success the band hoped it would be helping to relieve some of their looming fiscal hardships. It was their second consecutive album to top the UK charts, and in the US it reached number 11 on the Billboard 200, led largely by its leadoff track and single, Regret, which stormed the charts on both sides of the Atlantic. But the success came at a cost. Only one member of New Order loved the album when he listened to it, and the other three only heard frustration, disappointment and heartbreak. Stephen Morris later ranked it as his least favorite New Order album simply because it brought back awful memories of an awful time. Hooky Hooky once again partied. In order to block those awful memories out, he got high and danced to the acid house soundtrack at the Hacienda. He hung out with drug dealers and they became close. So close that when one of them asked Hookie to be a guarantor on the purchase of a phone for them, he gladly supplied his home address and credit card number. Not close enough for Hooky to know that the dealers were big time. Like a million pounds of dope. Perfect deal. Big time. Like the subject of an extensive undercover police thing. Big time. And before Hooky knew it, the party would come crashing to a halt in more ways than one. In hindsight, it was a horrible idea, but at the time it made perfect sense. Hooky arrived at the courthouse simply to offer his support. His drug buddies were on the hook for moving a shit ton of dope. You just don't let your friends hang out to dry in a time of need. So he attended their sentencing and witnessed as they all caught serious time at a Manchester prison. Strange ways. Here we come. Outside on the courthouse steps, Hooky suddenly got that sinking feeling that he was headed for a similar fate. Three cops talked amongst themselves and motioned in his direction. Hooky felt the hairs on his neck go up. And then the cops began to move. First a determined stride and then they got faster and they were headed straight for him. And then he remembered. Fuck, it was the the phone. That fucking phone. Drug dealers being drug dealers, they didn't tend to open bank accounts or credit cards, but they did have phones. And Hooky, in his fucked up state, thought it was a good idea to purchase a mobile device for his drug dealing friends. With not only his famous name, but with also his money, he underwrote the drug trade just as transparently as he underwrote the music business in Manchester's nightlife. Cocaine. It's a hell of a drug. The cops caught up to Hooky outside the courtroom and placed him under arrest for conspiracy to supply controlled drugs. They brought Hooky to an interrogation room inside the courthouse and he was sweating, not because of the charges before him, but because he was carrying three grams of cocaine and a handful of speed stuffed inside his wallet. When the cops weren't looking, Hooky massaged his ass against the chair and slowly worked his wallet out. He grabbed it discreetly with his hand and from behind his back, felt around inside until he located the baggies. He moved slow, no sudden movements. The table had a large base, thank fucking God. So again, when the cops weren't looking, he lifted the table up slightly with his knee and tossed the baggies safely underneath. No harm, no foul. Thankfully, no harm, no foul was essentially the police department Martin's assessment of the situation. After Hooky was released on bail, they actually decided not to search his home. When they showed up. It was too fucking big. Hooky was no drug czar. They told him to stay out of trouble. It was like that time on the Motorway all those years ago when he was chasing a coke filled tour bus at illegal speeds and was let off with a warning. It was good to be Peter Hook. But it was no longer so good to be a member of New Order. The divide was getting wider. On August 29, 1993, while touring behind the Republic album, New Order played the final gig featuring their original lineup at the Reading Festival. It wasn't planned, but the band took some time off after that. But when they finally did reconvene at the end of the century, Gillian Gilbert decided not to continue on. Hooky, for one, was shocked that he and Barney were actually getting along for once, even if that didn't last for long. And maybe it was an attempt to reclaim reclaimed the things they'd lost, like Ian Curtis, or the collaborative high water mark of their mid-1980s work. Or the Hacienda Club, which finally followed in the Factory's footsteps when it shut down in 1997 after a final year in which Hooky himself paid 7,000 pounds a month to keep it open. For a band that defined the future, being tethered to the past did them no favors. But the future that lay ahead for New order in the 21st century wasn't the future of old. It was riddled with less groundbreaking music and more conflict, more acrimonious splits and even lawsuits that divide between rock and roll and dance music. It's now a permanent one, with Bernard Sumner carrying on the New Order name, while Peter Hook fronts his own band, the Light, which performs many of New Order's classic songs. Barney and Hooky forever torn apart. Susan Such a disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgraceland. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis Co. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page@gracelandpod.com if you're listening as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to Disgracelandpod.com membership members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland Ad Free. Plus you'll get one brand new exclusive episode every month. 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Host: Jake Brennan
Date: July 18, 2023
This episode of DISGRACELAND dives deep into the tumultuous and pioneering journey of New Order—focusing on the darkness, excess, and chaotic innovation that came after the tragic end of Joy Division. It explores how New Order both reflected and created the ecstasy-fueled dance culture of the 1980s and 1990s, survived (and suffered through) violence, addiction, financial ruin, and ever-deepening personal rifts—all while leaving a lasting imprint on music history and pop culture.
Joy Division's End, New Order's Birth
“The name was also deliberately provocative with its inescapable Nazi connotations... Stephen, for one, defended their choice of names, explaining that they always sympathized with the victims, not the villains." (19:40)
Post-punk to Synth Innovators
“Guitar, bass and drums, those were instruments of the past. Synthesizers, triggers, pulses, sequencers, drum machines—they were the next movement. At least Barney thought they were.” (20:20)
“Hooky hated Barney. The feeling was mutual... This drama, of course, both personal and musical, was what made New Order incredible.” (06:00)
"He held a machete in one hand. In his other hand, the dog's severed head. He dropped the bloody head on the pool table... For the next time, it'll be a human head on this table.” (09:00)
“Copious amounts of ecstasy made Hooky and Barney forget about their differences. It also made them forget about what they were in Ibiza to do in the first place. Make a new album.” (07:03)
“When the cops weren't looking, Hooky massaged his ass against the chair and slowly worked his wallet out... and tossed the baggies safely underneath.” (35:00)
"Only one member of New Order loved the album when he listened to it, and the other three only heard frustration, disappointment and heartbreak.” (36:45)
Breakdown and Disintegration
Legacy and Division
“Barney and Hooky forever torn apart. Such a disgrace.” (41:45)
DISGRACELAND’s portrait of New Order is both tribute and cautionary tale: a story of innovation born from tragedy, artistic evolution pushed by internal conflict, and the immense personal and professional costs of hedonism and ambition. Their enduring legacy can be heard every time rock merges with the rhythm of the dance floor, but the personal wreckage—and Manchester’s lost clubland—still reverberates as a reminder of music’s messy, glorious past.