45 Minutes, 1 Album, 0 Distractions
Bec Morris
Creative Director and Brand Consultant
Pitchblack Playback: Experiencing Joy Division’s Closer on its 45th anniversary… in the dark.
Friday 18th July saw the 45th anniversary of Joy Division’s final album, Closer. I actually spent that evening watching Transmission, a tribute band at Band on the Wall in Manchester (highly recommended), but had already booked my ticket to my very first Pitchblack Playback experience the following week.
I’d been intrigued by the posts I’d seen for a while — an event held in a cinema where all the lights are turned off, you’re handed an eye mask, and an album plays in its entirety while you simply sit and listen.. I initially followed after seeing a Tears for Fears - Songs from the Big Chair event but sadly couldn’t make the date, so when I saw that Closer would be featured I knew I had to try it.
The lost art of listening
I have vivid memories of being a teenager, lying on my bed in the dark listening to my favourite albums through my giant headphones. Gold Mother by James was one of my favourites, and a moment listening to Walking the Ghost, with goosebumps and a feeling that I wasn’t alone in my room still sticks in my mind to this day. I posted a while ago about the fact that most people rarely listen to albums from start to finish anymore — we hear select songs on Spotify playlists, shuffle compositions that were carefully curated to follow a journey, and skip the tracks we’d rather not hear. Gone are the days of buying an album with my pocket money and playing it front to back on repeat until I could afford the next one.
When we sit and watch a movie or TV series, or read a book, we are fully focused and involved in that task (if we can avoid picking our phones up every 10 seconds). How many people sit and listen to music in the same way? It’s usually something we do whilst working, driving, chatting, dancing, drinking… but rarely ever as an exclusive activity. Yet this is an artform that deserves our undivided attention — at least once, and preferably the first time we really listen.
Why Closer?
Closer is an album that I rarely play single tracks from. It feels like it should be heard as a whole, each one being a sum of the larger part. I know you can argue this about most albums, but Closer feels more like a full story to me. Dave Haslam released a fantastic Substack prior to the anniversary, telling the story behind each track — this just served to make my experience even better as I seemed to feel each track a little deeper, knowing where it came from.
I must admit I did pause before buying my ticket, thinking — isn’t this just something I can do at home? But actually no, it isn’t. I can’t blast my music as loud as I’d like to as I’m a considerate neighbour. I could wear headphones, but I know my mind would wander. There’s always something to be doing, something to be aware of. But if you’re sitting in a cinema around other people, you are forced to focus.
And this brings me to Cultplex. Somewhere I’d never been before — an independent cinema in Manchester’s Green Quarter. An unpolished space (but that’s how we like it) with classic red velvet curtains either side of the screen — it felt like a fitting venue for the experience. I chose my seat (funny how people always avoid the front row, even when it’s a ‘blind’ event) and slid on my blindfold.
The experience
Steven Morris’ rolling drums of Atrocity Exhibition began, and already I understood. I had heard these songs played live just days earlier, but it can’t be compared with the recorded version, produced by Martin Hannett. It took a mere seconds for the goosebumps to arrive, and already I was hearing this music in a way I never had before.
Every track had something different that stood out to me, and it wasn’t until A Means to an End that the vocals really came through to me (usually the main event). Twenty Four Hours blew me away. The Eternal was haunting. I was finally listening to this album as it was intended to be heard, and I was hearing things I’d never heard before. Nothing else to see, feel or do. Just me and the music.
But that’s the thing — how often do we fully focus on one sense and block the others out? My hearing was heightened by the fact that it was all I had. We were instructed not to sing, and of course movement was out of the question. Now, I’m a mover — so I found this really difficult. A foot tap could make a noise, a shuffle could distract me, so I settled with a gentle nod and head sway while I crossed my arms and legs.
Meditation, distraction, and the magic of surrender
A few years ago, I taught meditation and had a strong daily practice myself. If you’ve ever meditated yourself, you can already relate to a part of this listening experience and the journey it takes you on. You go through all the stages — initial excitement, full focus and presence. Then you start to notice things, focus in on smaller details. Then, frustratingly, your mind wanders. I started to wish I could make notes on the experience, take off my eye mask and see what others were doing. Thinking about what I’d write in this piece, how many songs were left…
And then the shift happens. Your reward for pushing through the discomfort — you slip in, and get lost. This feeling coupled with the droning tones and repetitive drum beat is other-worldly. At one point, I felt as though someone was sitting in the chair next to me despite it being empty. In that moment, I see shapes behind my closed eyes and feel as though I’m fully present inside my own head. Weird, but true.
I hadn’t read anything about Pitchblack Playback aside from the event description, but whilst writing this I took a look at their website. They mention that meditative experience: “In today's stressful modern world, we all need spaces where we can cut ourselves off from the noise and distraction of daily life, and we're proud that our events can provide them. A different take on sound healing, if you will.”
I’ve tried sound healing a few times, and I just can’t get on with it. But reading this really opened my mind — this is the artist’s take on sound healing. You’re not just experiencing the album in the most present way — you’re being taken on your own journey alongside it. How many of those people in the room with me carried memories, feelings and opinions throughout that 45 minute session? Were their experiences like mine, or totally different? What will they go on to do or create afterwards? And this is before even bringing Ian Curtis’ story into the conversation.
I’ll never hear it the same way again
I’ll never listen to this album in the same way again, and for that I’m thankful. I would do this with all of my favourite music, and even pieces I’ve never heard before. Imagine hearing your favourite album for the first time in this heightened state of presence? Imagine hearing Welcome to the Pleasuredome like this… Although I don’t think I could sit still for that one. You’d have to blindfold me in a padded room for my own safety.
When I design for music in the future, I will make sure that I listen to the music in this more focused and sensory way before I even begin to think about the visuals. I already know that it will increase my connection with the piece and the artist, which can only be a good thing.
If you do one thing this week, make it this. Whether you can get to a Pitchblack Playback event or just slip on your headphones and turn out the lights — try listening to your favourite album as if it were the first time. No distractions, no visuals. Just you and the music. You might be surprised by what you hear.
Pitchblack Playback:
Cultplex
