Today let us consider the lyrics of the song Disorder by the band Joy Division. The words were written by Ian Curtis, who’d hanged himself at the age of 23 in 1980. His suicide is puzzling because it happened at the threshold of artistic success. As time goes on, it becomes increasingly fashionable for young people to listen to Joy Division’s music. Curtis was a prodigious intellect, so it takes more than adolescent anger and rebellion to understand him, and many young intellectuals do understand him. It is easy to see why unfulfilled, creative intellectuals find themselves genuinely attracted to Curtis’ lyrical content, and not merely the sounds of Joy Division’s music.
Here are the lyrics to Disorder:
I’ve been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand.
Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?
These sensations barely interest me for another day …
I’ve got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away.
It’s getting faster, moving faster now, it’s getting out of hand.
On the tenth floor, down the back-stairs, it’s a no man’s land.
Lights are flashing, cars are crashing, getting frequent now …
I’ve got the spirit, lose the feeling, let it out somehow.
What means to you, what means to me, and we will meet again …
I’m watching you, I’m watching her, I’ll take no pity from your friends.
Who is right, who can tell, and who gives a damn right now?
Until the spirit, new sensation, takes hold, then you know …
I’ve got the spirit! But lose the feeling …
Feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling!
What do we see in these lyrics? First, it is important to understand that these lyrics were reflective of Curtis’ thoughts, more accurately his conflicting thoughts. His words let us into his mind, and there we see what his thought is like. Curtis was like a confessional poet, and was a fan of confessional poets. It is good to isolate his words from the music and examine them here. They are a confession of his inner dilemma. He was a religious artist, and his religious convictions saturate his lyrics, as well as Joy Division’s album-art. Although he was a believer in Christ, he struggled greatly within his body and mind. Notice that Curtis emphasizes his physical or bodily experience over that of the spiritual reality he is aware of. For whatever reason — his own reasons — he thought his earthly experience could be straightened out by the tangible. As intelligent as he was, he’d “missed the mark” in his thinking here, which is the definition of “sin.” He associates normalcy with sensation, feelings, and pleasure. In fact, this song “Disorder” is from the Joy Division album entitled Unknown Pleasures. This inner dilemma which Curtis articulates mirrors the plight of our youth, and is rooted in a fundamental suppression of spiritual realities. If we give ourselves over to our emotions, our feelings, and every whim which our factory-like imaginations produce, we will be tossed to and fro, just as we see Curtis being tossed to and fro by his conflicted mind in these lyrics. We must control ourselves, and impose self-discipline if necessary. One moment Curtis was bored; the next moment he is elated … One moment he is earthly-minded and defeated; the next moment he is spiritual, and has achieved the transcendence of his dilemma. One moment he is at peace; the next moment he has lost his grip on peace of mind. It takes hard and unceasing work to sustain peace of mind, and to govern our thoughts. Curtis, although he held spiritual convictions, nevertheless found spirituality to be unstimulating. Thus, he swung back and forth between the body and the spirit with regularity. The only guide who can effectively lead us toward true liberation is God, and this Curtis knew, but he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. One cannot enjoy the true freedom which spirituality grants — even if he believes in it — unless he practices those beliefs. In the Bible, Samson was a spiritually liberated man who, regardless, sought a life of earthly pleasures, and he ended disastrously. Such an outcome is inevitable for a possessor of the truth who disregards it. Curtis mentions “shock.” The sense of shock or fear is often the result of confusion of the mind. He is confused; his mind is not in a sound condition. Sensation is not the answer to life’s problems; logical consideration of spiritual truth alone is capable of supplying a man with personal peace, as well as the mental armor he needs to endure harsh reality.
Curtis describes the mental consequences of his misguided thinking in these lyrics. He even speaks of both auditory and visual hallucinations. This is reminiscent of the 19th century French poet Gérard de Nerval, whom Curtis was knowledgeable of. Nerval had also hanged himself. We must never view such artists as these as victims. They were not victims, but rigorous defenders of art, symbol, the imagination, and an unrealistic perspective of the world. An analysis of their autobiographical lyrical content, and the biographical work on them, inescapably discloses their understanding of their dilemma, their ability to distinguish between fantasy and reality, and their refusal to accept reality over dream. Both men spiraled out of control because they refused to renounce the imagination. Thus, Rimbaud was better off than both men combined. Imaginative men who sing the song of freedom are always the slaves of their unfeasible dreams. In all their uncertainty, through pride, they still assert themselves dogmatically. The suicidal acts of dreamers reveal their true interest in the concept of liberty: freedom from themselves, which they project onto the world. It could be that, in histrionic fashion, Curtis mimicked Nerval.
Curtis voiced a recklessness and a carelessness in this song which is compatible with a suicidal one. His conscience is muddled, and it doesn’t matter to him. He doesn’t even want the sympathy of others. He foreshadows his own death. Clearly his romantic relationship has been negatively affected by his disorderly state of mind. Curtis did not title this song Disorder as a pretext. Remember, he wanted no pity.
The spirit is not a sensation, nor is it a feeling. Curtis was still striving for a novel experience … Out of the depths of his frustration and despair — like Baudelaire, like Nietzsche, like Camus, etc. — he lamented and cried, “Feeling!”