Chapter VII

Bournemouth skool

Peter Hook

I turned up in the early afternoon (a spotty seventeen year old) only to find The Stockholm Monsters, who I was down to interview,  were being chaperoned by Joy Division idol Peter Hook. (Not that he was around much – he seemed somewhat pre-occupied by the mini-skirted Promoter keen to bag New Order to play locally – and negotiations were ongoing).

But there was one brief moment when finally I was face to face with Hooky.

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There was a service lift to bring gear up into the building and I was roped into helping out. It was one of those metal cage lifts and I was the last one in.

Finally, here I was in the presence of one of my heroes. It felt as if there was an instant unspoken connection between us, an implicit transference imbued with profundity. After all, had there not been all those walks in the rain and maram grass undertaken by the muskateers wreathed in our black Crombies, the hours spent deciphering Joy Division’s more arcane lyrics in the back-room (eternal  ‘rites’), those readings of Proust, Burroughs and Ballard.

Words came to his lips, directed at me, and I awaited their import.

“Are you going to shut the door of the lift? Or are we going to wait here all night?”