No language, just sound, that's all we need know
They mention him here, and as I read that (excellent) text I realize there's little less for me to say about Ian Curtis, the imortal voice of Joy Division. One of my favourite bands, Joy Division. Curtis' voice has that uncanny quality that one can find ionly n a few voices, like Leonard Cohen's, Thom Yorke's, or Elizabeth Fraser's (Cockteau Twins, This Mortal Coil). Listening to Joy Division (or to any of the others I mentioned) is to feel a magnetic pull, to feel something within me revolving without understanding what caused that sensation, or the sensation itself. I noticed it the first time I listened to Love Will Tear Us Apart. Or She's Lost Control. Or Atmosphere. Or Transmission, my favourite of their songs. There's something about it - it might be the lyrics, that deep and hurt voice singing. I don't know what it is, there's simply something about it. Something hidden perhaps that make me listen to it on and on, restlessly.
Radio, live transmission.
Radio, live transmission.
Listen to the silence, let it ring on.
Eyes, dark grey lenses frightened of the sun.
We would have a fine time living in the night,
Left to blind destruction,
Waiting for our sight.
And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Well I could call out when the going gets tough.
The things that we've learnt are no longer enough.
No language, just sound, that's all we need know, to synchronise
love to the beat of the show.
And we could dance.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Radio, live transmission.
Radio, live transmission.
Listen to the silence, let it ring on.
Eyes, dark grey lenses frightened of the sun.
We would have a fine time living in the night,
Left to blind destruction,
Waiting for our sight.
And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Well I could call out when the going gets tough.
The things that we've learnt are no longer enough.
No language, just sound, that's all we need know, to synchronise
love to the beat of the show.
And we could dance.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.
Joy Division, Transmission
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