Thanks to my new pal Jarv for requesting this one......
Summer 1989. New Order have gone mainstream. Susbstance is suddenly an album everyone seems to possess. True Faith is known by all. Fine Time has been all over the radio, its cover mirroring the hail of Ecstasy falling across clubs in Britian. New Order’s popularity is increasing worldwide. The summer is spent on a massive American tour, with support from Public Image Limited and The Sugarcubes.
My University holidays were spent in America, working as a football coach on a summer Camp. As soon as I knew this would coincide with New Order’s tour, I realised this could lead to an opportunity of a lifetime. When I got to the States, I checked out the itinery. One of the gigs was in Connectcut, my state. In those days I had nothing even resembling a credit card, so I seem to remember pulling some favours with an American friend who swung me two tickets. Another English friend from the camp agreed to come. Summer camp work is bloody hard work, and it was all I could do to beg the night off, but eventually I persuaded the camp controller that New Order were my friends and I had to attend this gig. I couldn’t wait – especially to tell my mates back home.
When the day came I was shocked that it took most of the day to drive to the venue. When we arrived I was totally confused. We were at a Theme Park, very like Alton Towers in England. Our tickets were accepted and we stood, disoriented and out of place, as huge rollercoasters screamed around us. Immediately, someone approached me. “Hey, Buddy, nice t-shirt!” he said. I was wearing my finest “Manchester: Born in the North, Live in the North, Die in the North” t-shirt which Mancunians of a certain age will remember. He was wearing a Joy Division t-shirt. We were in the right place. Chuck explained that the gig venue was in the amusement park, and that the ticket price included free use of the rides. Weird. He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Manchester music scene and seemed genuinely starstruck to meet a real life Mancunian. He took us on some of the maddest rollercoasters I had ever seen then took us through to the gig venue.
Here things got even stranger. I had, naturally, insisted that my ticket was for the standing area. The venue was totally outdoor, like a permanent Reading festival. However, the area in front of the stage was seating and the standing behind. Damn. We were miles away. We went for a beer. You couldn’t buy one. You had to buy beer vouchers by showing ID, then hand these in to the bar areas. I was only 19, but tried to blag a voucher by claiming I was English and showing him a doctored photocopy of my passport. He was having none of it.
So, no beer and I was going to be miles from the stage. Things were not looking good. Then I saw it. On a merchandise stand was, quite simply, the coolest New Order t-shirt I had ever seen. Neworder USA 89, it was labelled, and it had a lovely, psycadelic stars and stripes. It looked Factory. It was cool. I had to buy one.
On came The Sugarcubes, a band I liked, and played a decent set. Then on came Johnny Lydon and PIL. He played the crowd like a fiddle and the Yanks lapped it up. Then on came New Order. I cannot remember what was played. What I do remember was that Barney said virtually nothing to the crowd and I could tell this seemed to distance them from the all-American audience. There must have been 15,000 or so there but the gig was a bit of an anti-climax. Chuck was visibly disappointed they were so quiest. It was actually the first New Order gig I attended where I left disappointed. Probably because of the lack of beer and my distance from the stage, but also because I sensed America hadn’t really got New Order.
But it was all worthwhile when I got back to Blighty. My T-shirt was the envy of all, and I was stopped in the streets many times. One Friday, in a rush to get it dry before a night out, it set on fire. I was heartbroken.
love it.
