Op 18 mei 1980 pleegde Ian Curtis, de zanger en tekstschrijver van Joy Division, zelfmoord. Eigenlijk was ik van plan daar een artikel aan te wijden, maar ik zou het bij benadering niet zo goed kunnen zeggen als Dorian Cope:
“….if we accept the idea of a ‘myth’ not as a falsehood but as a sacred narrative that can provide a broader insight into life, then the Ian Curtis/JD myth is justifiably compelling as evidence of humanity’s profound relationship to art and our artists, and our ability and/or need to be deeply touched from a distance.”
“RIP Ian Curtis. Ian Curtis Forever”
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.
Then love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Why is the bedroom so cold?
You’ve turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there’s still this appeal
That we’ve kept through our lives.
But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
You cry out in your sleep,
All my failings exposed.
And there’s a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Just that something so good just can’t function no more.
But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
