As a group of people, New Order acted like a divorcing husband and wife: we couldn’t even be bothered to hate one another any more. We’d simply stopped caring about each other. We played our guts out most nights – I like to think we didn’t let our band politics affect the performances – but as soon as we were offstage all our heart was lost again.
The fine arts once divorcing themselves from truth are quite certain to fall mad, if they do not die.
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