40 Years on: Low-Life
A look back at the creation, reception, and legacy of New Order's third studio album.
40 years ago today—May 13th, 1985—New Order released their third studio album, Low-Life. In honor of this occasion, let’s look back at the creation, reception, and legacy of this outstanding record.
New Order?
New Order? What’s that? A frequently heard exclamation among Americans. Sure, New Order may not have achieved the international success or staying power of other legendary British acts of the ‘80s—like The Cure, The Smiths, or Depeche Mode—but hell, their music is just as good.
Most people today who actually do know New Order recognize them for their string of electronic hits in the ’80s including “True Faith,” “Bizarre Love Triangle,” and the legendary dance anthem “Blue Monday.” However, the Manchester-based band did not have its roots in Britain’s flourishing synthesizer-based New Wave movement—as most would expect. New Order actually got their start in a radically different setting: the post-punk scene. This confusion—no pun intended—stems from the fact that New Order wasn’t known as New Order then. In fact, they weren’t technically even the same band. From 1978 to 1980, the group that would become New Order helped change the face of alternative music under a different name: Joy Division.
This article isn’t intended to be a history of Joy Division—I’ll tackle that eventually. So, to keep it brief: after creating two masterworks—Unknown Pleasures (1979) and Closer (1980)—Joy Division’s lead singer and chief lyricist Ian Curtis committed suicide on the eve of the band’s first North American tour. In the face of this tragedy, the band’s three remaining members—Bernard Sumner (guitar), Peter Hook (bass), and Stephen Morris (drums)—quickly reformed under a new name: New Order. With Sumner now on vocals, the trio also enlisted the help of keyboardist Gillian Gilbert.
Those Early Years
In their early days New Order struggled to find their footing—to separate themselves musically from Joy Division. Their first single, “Ceremony” (1981), was technically a cover of a song they recorded with Curtis just days before his death. Later that year, New Order released their first studio album, Movement—a solid record, though one lacking a cohesive sound, gazing backwards rather than forward. It feels like a Joy Division record without its most essential ingredient: Curtis. And we can be sympathetic; the band was still figuring things out—unsure themselves of what they wanted New Order to be.
The following year, they found steadier ground with their single “Temptation,” embracing a synth-pop sound—among the roughest in the genre. In 1983, they continued down that path with the dance track “Blue Monday”—which would eventually become the best-selling 12-inch single of all time—and their second studio album Power, Corruption & Lies. Here, New Order really began to hit their stride, heavily integrating synthesizers with their guitar-driven post-punk roots, cultivating a sound unlike any band of the era—or any since. Granted, the album still has its Joy Division-esque moments—like “Age of Consent,” “Ultraviolence,” and “Leave Me Alone”—but in these songs, Sumner’s vocals are more expressive, no longer attempting to mimic Curtis’s as he had on Movement. A new, brighter—albeit not elated—band emerged in ’83 from the despondent ashes of Joy Division.
It Even Has Frogs…
My drawn-out backstory is now over—apologies for that. Come May 1985, New Order had just released their third studio album, Low-Life, on the heels of the 1984 single “Thieves Like Us”—my all-time favorite New Order song. Low-Life represented a departure for the band in a number of ways. First and foremost, they broke their long-standing tradition of not putting their singles on their studio albums. This time around, Low-Life contained two singles: “The Perfect Kiss” and “Sub-Culture”—the latter released that Fall. To hammer in how crazy this is: for the first five years of the band’s existence, their singles—what were objectively their strongest songs—weren’t included on their albums. And still, those were two solid albums. The financial difficulties of the band’s label, Factory Records, influenced them to go this more commercially appealing route with Low-Life.
This record is also the first—and only—to feature the band members on its cover—or really, just one: Drummer Stephen Morris. Fortunately, images of the other three are included in the CD release, so you can swap Stephen out for a different, less intimidating photo (see below). The image is sandwiched between a folded piece of translucent paper with “New Order” written in metallic lettering—another cool touch (also see below).
Low-Life is immediately more polished and crisper sounding than Power, Corruption and Lies—the product of a larger production budget and a band growing ever more confident in its musical and technical abilities. Indeed, advancements in synthesizer technology played a huge role in shaping the album’s sound. Not to get too technical—for an in-depth dive see Substance: Inside New Order by Peter Hook—but essentially, new synthesizers and samplers allowed for a richer, more textured soundscape. And yes, it even has frogs.
Track by Track
First up is “Love Vigilantes”—arguably both the most and least New Order-sounding song on the record. It’s got melodica—harmonica’s reedy cousin—melodramatic lyrics, and Sumner on acoustic guitar. It’s part country, part punk, and conspicuously devoid of synths—what more could you ask to kick off a New Order album? And yes, while “Love Vigilantes” remains one of the band’s most beloved songs, it’s certainly hard to explain in the context of the seven tracks that follow on Low-Life—but that’s part of the New Order charm, I suppose.
Up next is “The Perfect Kiss”—where the lack of synths on the previous track is repaid with interest. This song has a lot going on, beginning with perhaps the best bass hook the band ever produced—and that’s saying something—courtesy of Peter Hook. Sumner’s vocals are clumsy, frequently off-key, and nonsensically deliver lines about “pretending not to see his gun,” though he’ll still go out and have some fun. Add in a distorted synth solo, a moment of tranquil weirdness featuring those famous eerie frog noises, and Hook’s bass to round it all out, and you’ve got a New Order track for the ages. You may not love it on first listen, but its awkward genius grows on you—ultimately making it the standout song on the album.
“This Time of Night” offers a lull from the energy of the previous two tracks. As is a common theme on this record, Sumner’s vocals are painful on this cut—though in a slightly less charming way than on other entries. Hook’s bass is the saving grace of this track, accompanied by a refreshing keyboard solo. Overall, “This Time of Night” stands as one of the weaker tracks on Low-Life—though by no means a bad song. Instead, it finds its strength in adding a new, mellower flavor to the record, counterbalancing the surrounding entries.
The quintessential alternative rock track of the album—“Sunrise” better than any other encapsulates New Order’s evolution from its post-punk days. It’s got an oomph—a jolt of electricity—that’s wholly absent from their first two records, or from any of Joy Division’s discography, for that matter. Their versatility as musicians is on full display—just compare Sunrise to the electronic tapestry two songs earlier, “The Perfect Kiss”; it barely sounds like the same band.
That minute-long fade-in… to an instrumental track? “Elegia” may not pique interest like “The Perfect Kiss” or “Love Vigilantes,” but musically, it’s perhaps the best of New Order’s output—try learning to play it on piano. It’s truly a captivating five-minute experience—though in all its glory, “Elegia” stretches over 17 minutes and would feel more at home in sci-fi film than on a synth-pop album. It’s the band’s tribute to Ian Curtis, carried off by that chilling guitar solo—no flash, all fading atmosphere.
One of my favorite slices of Low-Life, “Sooner Than You Think” finds the perfect fusion of electronic and rock elements. It’s catchy synth-pop—like “This Time of Night”—that doesn’t take itself too seriously, yet it retains the passionate, alternative rock magic of “Sunrise.” It’s truly the best of both worlds. “Oh, you know what I mean… yes, you do.”
“Sub-Culture” is easily the most danceable track on the album—remixed as a single specifically for club play. The album version, however, sits somewhere in the middle—fun, but not as innovative or compelling as earlier tracks, and slightly drawn out. Sumner’s vocals are once again underwhelming, though largely obscured by the instrumentals. “Sub-Culture” stands as the most commercial track on Low-Life—and, for that reason, the least New Order-like.
Last—but maybe actually least—on the record is the eighth track, “Face Up”: a disjointed, bombastic, yet admirably ambitious part-synth, part-punk effort. As the most vocally demanding song—with all that erratic shouting—Sumner delivers a predictably uneven performance—though it’s softened by the low expectations already set by the first seven tracks. His guitar solo in the final 90 seconds is a welcome surprise, carrying “Face Up” to a polarizing conclusion. It’s a bit of an enigma—like the band itself—and winds down Low-Life at the 40-minute mark, leaving the listener wanting just a little bit more.
Reception
Low-Life was released on May 13, 1985, to much critical acclaim and fanfare. It peaked at #7 on the UK charts—where it remained for 10 weeks—and became the first New Order album to chart in America, reaching #94. Neil Tennant—then of Smash Hits—gave it an 8 out of 10 rating, writing that “the songs are much stronger than usual—not just doomy electronic workouts but memorable melodies with a sense of humour lurking in the words.”1 An apt summary, giving Low-Life official Pet Shop Boys—and Electronic—approval.
Of course, the album had its detractors too. It was often said that Low-Life lacked the profundity of Joy Division’s output—shifting from the gravity of a track like “Love Will Tear Us Apart” (1980) to the absurdity of “Love Vigilantes” in a span of five years. Unsurprisingly, Sumner’s strained vocals drew ire from listeners far and wide. And for some, the flip-flops between post-punk, synth pop, and dance were off-putting, making the album feel incohesive—much like Movement, or even Power, Corruption & Lies. Yet these critiques were few and far between, and were drowned out by near-universal praise for the band.
Legacy
Today, Low-Life remains one of—if not the—most beloved New Order albums. NME ranked it second on their list of the band’s best records, surpassed only by Power, Corruption & Lies.2 And yes, their second album is the only one that can truly give Low-Life a run for its money—although its lack of polish, in my opinion, makes that difficult to justify.
Turning to fan consensus, the community-driven website RateYourMusic gives both albums identical ratings on a five-point scale: 3.84—making them the sixth- and tenth-best records of ’83 and ’85, respectively. New Order would follow Low-Life with their fourth album, the well-received Brotherhood, in 1986, along with the popular standalone single “Shellshock.” And then in 1987, they released the single “True Faith” and the compilation album Substance—netting them their first major success in North America. Yet in retrospect, regardless of chart success, the release of Low-Life in 1985 clearly marked a creative peak for the band—halfway through the decade whose music they helped define.
On Spotify, Low-Life is New Order’s third most-streamed studio album—distantly behind Power, Corruption and & Lies and Brotherhood—with 77 million total streams and 21 thousand daily.3 This is dwarfed by their contemporaries’ releases around that time: 162 million total, 64 thousand daily for Depeche Mode’s Some Great Reward (1984);4 260 million total and 152 thousand daily for The Smiths’ Meat is Murder (1985);5 and a staggering 713 million total and 265 thousand daily for The Cure’s The Head on the Door (1985).6
So, does this make Low-Life an inferior album—and New Order a lesser band? No. It just makes listening to this hidden gem of an album, by a grossly undervalued band, all the sweeter.
Some Final Thoughts
New Order toes the line with Low-Life: between too grave and too flippant; too post-punk and too synth-pop; and too indie and too commercial. Really, there’s something for everyone on this album—if you look carefully enough.
Some bands make music that’s quick to unravel. On the first listen, you understand it for exactly what it is—all that it will be—with everything laid right out in the open. Other bands make music that is tougher to crack: you might come around to it after several relistens, or you may never grow to appreciate it. Low-Life—and its precursor, Power, Corruption & Lies—are two powerful examples of why New Order belongs to the latter camp.
Truth be told, I was slightly disappointed by Low-Life after my first listen. That signature New Order sound—the blurring of genre lines—felt abrasive, not helped at all by Sumner’s vocals. Moments of brilliance—like “Love Vigilantes” and “Elegia”—were surrounded by what felt like filler, shuffled about and only occasionally surfacing. Yet this wasn’t a matter of distaste, but of unfamiliarity. With each subsequent listen, some new quality stood out to me: the bassline of “The Perfect Kiss,” the infectious energy of “Sunrise,” or—most recently—the pure catchiness of “Sooner Than You Think.”
I haven’t quite cracked every track yet—still waiting on “Sub-Culture” and “Face Up”—and who knows if I ever will? But with the element of surprise still drawing me in, I’ll keep coming back to this record—hopefully for years to come.
So, happy 40th birthday, Low-Life…
https://www.flickr.com/photos/51106326@N00/14382433732/in/album-72157644680700008
https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/new-order-best-albums-ranked-2296251
https://kworb.net/spotify/artist/0yNLKJebCb8Aueb54LYya3_albums.html
https://kworb.net/spotify/artist/762310PdDnwsDxAQxzQkfX_albums.html
https://kworb.net/spotify/artist/3yY2gUcIsjMr8hjo51PoJ8_albums.html
https://kworb.net/spotify/artist/7bu3H8JO7d0UbMoVzbo70s_albums.html