Ian Curtis Quotes

How unhappy does one have to be before living seems worse than dying?

Existence is.. well.. what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future. The present is well out of hand.

I can now see everything falling to pieces before my eyes.

Existence— well, what does it matter? I've existed for the best use i can The past is now part of my future The present is well out of hand.

I struggle between what I know is right in my own mind, and some warped truthfulness as seen through other people's eyes who have no heart, and can't see the difference anyway.

I used to work in a factory and I was really happy because I could daydream all day.

Existense, well what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can.

I'm sure we all have dreams of leaving at some time in our lives, but when we reach the bottom, most of us go running home.

Reality is only a dream, based on values and well worn principles, whereas the dream goes on forever.

Two ways to choose, which way to go Decide for me, please let me know Pictures all around, of how a good life should be A model for the rest, that bred insecurity Everything seemed easy but I didn't have the heart Me in my own world, yeah you there beside The gaps are enormous, we stare from each side

Ian was living in fairyland and in our own way we all helped him to stay there.

Nothing seems real anymore. Even the flames from the fire seem to beckon to me, drawing me into some great past life buried somewhere deep in my subconscious, if only I could find the key..if only..if only. Ever since my illness, my condition, I've been trying to find some logical way of passing my time, of justifying a means to an end.

Pictures all around, of how good a life should be, a model for the rest, that bred insecurity, I walked a jagged line and then came back for more, it's always in my mind, an institution with no law.

Autumn arrived and life was in danger of becoming boring again.

The music was so mournful and emotional that it seemed like the only suitable thing to play.

The things that we've learned are no longer enough.

Now I don't know why, but Morrissey had always hated Joy Division. Maybe Rob got it right when after a lively debate as the cameras were turned off he turned to Morrissey and said, 'The trouble with you, Morrissey, is that you've never had the guts to kill yourself like Ian. You're fucking jealous.' You should have seen his face as he stormed off. I laughed me bollocks off.

We don't want to give people straight answers. We'd rather they question things for themselves.

No one realized that, being left out in the cold, I was also very much in the dark.

Oh, I'll break them down, no mercy shown, Heaven knows, it's got to be this time, Watching her, these things she said, The times she cried, Too frail to wake this time.

Why must we be put down when we try to get away? Why must we all grow up when we could just play and play? Good things in life are free, can't buy everything, that's true Only one thing wrong with that, what it don't buy I don't use " "A change of speed, a change of style. A change of scene, with no regrets, A chance to watch, admire the distance, Still occupied, though you forget. Different colours, different shades, Over each mistakes were made. I took the blame." "It's just second nature, It's what we've been shown, We're living by your rules

Music does propagate myths and people have tried to make that myth more than it was.

Watching her, these things she said, The times she cried, Too frail to wake this time.

When routine bites hard and ambitions are low And resentment rides high but emotions won't grow And we're changing our ways, taking different roads Love, love will tear us apart again.

Suggested Reading Atkinson, Kate. Behind the Scenes at the Museum; Binchy, Maeve. Tara Road, The Copper Beech, and Evening Class; Bloom, Amy. Come to Me; Edwards, Kim. The Memory Keeper’s Daughter; Ferris, Joshua. The Unnamed; Flynn, Gillian. Gone Girl; Foer, Jonathan Safran. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close; Franzen, Jonathan. The Corrections; Ganesan, Indira. Inheritance; Hanilton, Jane. Disobedience; Jonasson, Jonas. The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared; Joyce, Rachel. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry; Kidd, Sue Monk. The Secret Life of Bees; Mapson, Jo-Ann, The Owl & Moon Cafe; McEwan, Ian. Atonement; Miller, Arthur. All My Sons; Morrison, Toni. Love; O’Neill, Eugene. Long Day’s Journey into Night; Pekkanen, Sarah. The Opposite of Me; Porter, Andrew. In Between Days; Quindlen, Anna. Blessings and One True Thing; Rosenfeld, Lucinda. The Pretty One; Sittenfeld, Curtis. Sisterland; Smith, Ali. There But For The; Tan, Amy. The Joy Luck Club; Tyler, Anne. Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant; White, Karen. The Time Between; Williams, Tennessee. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof; Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway; Yates, Richard. The Easter Parade.

They were also the tracks on which we channelled a love of Kraftwerk and Giorgio Moroder. Ian Curtis had first introduced us to the icy Germans, and that was quickly followed by an even greater admiration for Moroder, particularly his work with Donna Summer on ‘I Feel Love’ and his production of the wonderful Sparks track ‘Number One Song in Heaven’. His solo record E=MC2 became a big inspiration and definitely led us into ‘Temptation’. All we had to do was work out how they bloody did it.

Formed in 1976 and disbanded in 1980 when lead singer Ian Curtis died by suicide, Joy Division were Manchester’s saddest post-punk goths. Which is saying a lot for a city that also produced The Smiths.

Joy Division was scheduled to play at Tier 3, but Ian Curtis killed himself a week before the gig.

She presses play and Andrea listens to the song. A guitar starts playing, then another and then drums; it’s an unusual sound; it seems like rock music but is strange, somewhat gothic and punk. It’s a melodic song, though, and his foot taps the beat without him realizing. A man’s voice, full of sadness, sings the first words:   "When routine bites hard And ambitions are low And resentment rides high But emotions won’t grow And we're changing our ways Taking different roads..."   Andrea knows it! He hears the song arrive from his distant past with a suitcase full of memories. He sees himself as a child, sitting in the living room, his little legs dangling from a chair. His father has just received a new CD from abroad and couldn’t wait to receive it so Gina the caretaker has sent it on to him in Clusone. He’s really excited and tells mom all about it. She’s happy too. Barbara has pigtails and is eating a piece of focaccia with olives, sticking her fingers inside to take them out one by one. She’s tiny, five years old or maybe younger. Andrea sees the CD on the table and wonders what is so special about it. There's a very pale guy on the front, with dark hair and a strange fringe. His mouth is right up to the microphone and everything else is black. It’s written in a language that he can’t read, though he knows that it’s English. His parents are so happy that he decides to take it and have a listen. He snatches the disc and CD player and runs off. He runs very fast...   "Then love, love will tear us apart again" sings Ian Curtis, the voice of Joy Division, his parents’ favorite band. It’s a compilation that came out in 2000, containing a special song, "Love will tear us apart again." Andrea runs to a little girl that he loves very much. He has fun all day long with her in the mountains. He runs to his inseparable friend, his dear... "Susy!" he exclaims, eyes open wide. She smiles and nods. He

Most people felt either drawn to Ian or rejected by him, depending on how they interpreted his demeanour. He is described by Mike Kelly, a childhood acquaintance who lived nearby, as a person one would cross the road to avoid, merely because his eyes said: 'Stay Away'.

Meeting Frankie Curtis was one of those fortuitous moments you couldn’t plan for or expect. When we met her, she was just a fan who’d come to one of our concerts with her boyfriends and her best friend. Ian wrote music, something Frankie had shared with us. I offered them a chance to listen. To be another ear. Nine times out of ten, a fan never takes you up on the offer. Frankie had.

Interpretar un alma torturada sobre el escenario era más fácil para Ian sin el ojo vigilante de la mujer que lavaba su ropa interior.

in the shadowplay, acting out your own death knowing no more as the assassins, all grouped in four lines are dancing on the floor

He was kneeling in the kitchen. I was relieved – glad he was still there ‘Now what are you up to?’ I took a step towards him, about to speak. His head was bowed, his hands resting on the washing machine. I stared at him, he was so still. Then the rope – I hadn’t notice the rope. The rope from the clothes rack was around his neck. I ran through to the sitting room and picked up the telephone. No, supposing I was wrong – another false alarm. I ran back to the kitchen and looked at his face – a long string of saliva hung from his mouth. Yes, he really had done it.

Love will tear us apart