New Order - Dublin Point Depot 05 June 1993

NME - REPUBLIC INCONVENIENCE

NEW ORDER
DUBLIN POINT DEPOT

THERE WERE no lucky breaks for this show. With fewer than 2,000 of the 8,000 tickets sold in advance, the Peace Together organisers were hoping for a large walk-up on the night. But with a city-wide bus strike, a sunny bank holiday weekend, poor local publicity and Sinéad O’Connor's dramatic 11th hour withdrawal, the omens were not good.

O’Connor had said at the outset that she would crawl over broken glass to be there. A last minute fax to the Peace Together office indicated a rethink, though: “i have to pull out of the show," explained Sinéad. “Personal problems too large to overcome at the moment.” Maybe she was tired or had a sore throat: she had, after all, sung with Peter Gabriel here a week before, and was ligging with An Emotional Fish last night.

Inside the venue, a vox pop reveals that nine out of ten punters are here for New Order and know very little about the cause. They’re also waiting for the support bands to leave: Engine Alley throw crap pseudo-glam poses; Something Happens provide yet another solid but oh-so-boring set of retro guitar gunk; while The Stunning start moody and bright but end up dull and bloated. In Live Aid terms, they are Adam And The Ants, Status Quo and Spandau Ballet respectively.

Hardly surprising, then, that when Gillian Gilbert strolls nonchalantly over to her keyboards the atmosphere becomes a bit frenzied. Barney Sumner picks lip his guitar, says hello and apologises for Sinéad - “She was going to turn up but it was a bank holiday” - before pounding into ‘Regret’.

It doesn't sound great. The drums are rolling ahead of everything else and there are a few odd grimaces. They’re brought under control halfway through, but Stephen Morris still keeps his head down, while - true to tradition - Peter Hook’s bass isn’t so much off-the-hip as off-the-ankle. ‘World In Motion’ comes out muffled and technical problems continue to bite. Again, it takes until the chorus for the song to find Its punch and a focus. it’s plain to see that New Order haven’t played live for four years.

There are some more monochrome bouts of light and shade before ‘True Faith’ takes a step up into glorious technicolour. The keyboard lines shimmer and glow and you can finally hear what Barney is singing. By ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ New Order are sounding majestic and looking as if this is fun. ‘Fine Time’ coasts in with plenty of panache and a few more stylish Hooky poses. Barney grooves around the stage and the band look as though they’ve snatched a victory from the jaws of defeat.

Encore ‘Blue Monday' drags us back to ’82, even if many here were pram-bound when it first crashed into the charts, and Hooky is the last to depart, squeezing the final bursts of feedback from his bass after four years, 45 minutes and eight songs.

The crowd drift away, leaving about 500 to hear Andy White recite poetry and the Hothouse Flowers to do whatever it is they do these days. Meanwhile, backstage Barney is gulping from a can of beer and holding court on the evening, saying It was “really, really great” - despite only a week’s rehearsal. As for Peace Together itself...

“We’re just four thick bastards who got into this music business to have fun, it’s not our job to sort out political problems. We’re not doing this to promote ourselves, it’s more to raise awareness about what’s happening. Like, 50 per cent of the people here in Dublin are under 25, but do they know what it’s like in Belfast? We just want to make people aware. it’s not fair to blame kids for things their fathers have done.”

With that, he’s off to join The Other Three. The Peace Together organisers are left to count tonight’s costs, plan the album and reschedule the shows in London and Belfast.

They’re still determined, and maybe even Sinéad's problems will be sorted out in time for one of  those outings. For now, it’s a qualified success.

Jim Carroll