New Order - Vox "Republic" Review

VOX - GETTING THEIR HOUSE IN ORDER

NEW ORDER
Republic
(London tba)

When New Order last filed a despatch -with 1989’s Technique, recorded in a suitably blissed-out state in Ibiza - they set the mood for a brief era. Then, having released the perfect album to usher in the age of indie/dance crossover, they stepped back and watched an entire scene come and go under their benign gaze.

Four years later, the backdrop to their return is one of upheaval, of Madchester’s visible disintegration with the Mondays burn-out, growing violence in the city, and, of course, the collapse of Factory.

Rumours of splits have plagued them these past few years, fuelled by the varying degrees of success enjoyed in their respective solo projects but, seemingly against the odds, Republic is testimony that New Order are still together. It was not, however, a happy project, and people are already saying it may be their last.

Nevertheless, Republic doesn’t exactly find New Order descending into the gothic gloom that was their previous incarnation. Pet Shop Boys’ producer Steven Hague was brought in as peacemaker, and his contribution has been to leaven the sound considerably. It was he, after all, who worked with the band on possibly their finest moment, ‘True Faith’.

The album opens on a sublime note of ‘Regret’, possibly the finest song dedicated to first time home-buyers ever written, and proceeds to strike, via the ensuing ten tracks, a precarious sense of metamorphosis.

Gone is the sun-kissed imagery and joie de vivre of Technique. Instead, the lyrics return continually to themes of pressure, transition and upheaval. New Order’s Republic doesn’t come cheap, everything is continually measured out and tallied up-as ‘World’ maintains, even love has its price here. Freedom, too, comes at the cost of lost independence: “This is how it feels to be/ On a payroll company,” spits Sumner sourly on ‘Chemical’.

The mood may be fretful, but this is balanced by New Order’s still sublime ear for melody. The songs emerge almost unscathed through the trauma, buoyed by hallmark classical keyboard flourishes and Hook’s tender (yes!), free-spirited bass playing. Occasionally, as with ‘Spooky’ and ‘Young Offender’, the Techno rumble threatens to take over, but it is rapidly soothed by swathes of synths. If one track stands out, it is the synoptic ‘Times Change’ where, ironically, Sumner’s Electronic excursion appears to have left its mark most obviously.

Republic concludes with the chilling grandeur of the Gillian Gilbert/Stephen Morris composition ‘Avalanche’ leaving only a suffocating silence. It all sounds desperately final, but it’s to be hoped that this is not New Order’s parting shot.  7

Mike Pattenden