What is Rock & Roll without artifacts?

Years ago, my friend Jesse and I were hanging out after hours in the guitar shop he worked at, noodling away at the choosier instruments hanging around us. At one point I played a bit of Joy Division’s “She’s Lost Control” on a Rickenbacker bass. Jesse got up and disappeared into the back room. He returned with an ungainly 6-string bass. “Shergold,” read the badge on the headstock. He handed it to me to play.

After a minute it came to me: “Oh hey! This is one of those Peter Hook basses!”

“Uh, no,” he said. “I think this actually IS his bass!”

I can’t be sure, of course, but knowing Jesse’s boss and his connections, it’s highly plausible. I do know this: I played that ugly bass the rest of the night, willing just a whiff of Hooky’s savage brilliance to somehow transmit into my fingertips.

Arguably, Peter Hook is an artifact himself now—last Friday, he turned 70. I’ll always be grateful to him, his knack for infusing bass lines with relentless emotion and drive. Long may he rock.