This is not a memento, this is a gig. This is not a souvenir or shifty "not the best of", this is a gig. This is not bootleg chic, this is just a gig. Just a gig by one of the greatest bands that ever lived and wrote and played.

   It was Preston. It seems to me that whenever our bands went North, or even slightly North, we got trouble. Blackburn meant serious violence for Stockholm Monsters and Happy Mondays. Bastards. Bury meant the night of the J.D. riot. I blame Gretton; and the guy who threw the pint pot 'cause Ian only did three numbers and he didn't like the sight of Simon Topping coming back on stage... And this gig in Preston. Equipment malfunction. Mostly no function. "One of the tape's the Preston - gig worse ******* gig we ever did. Complete breakdown of bloody everything. A shambles". Pause. "You'd probably like it, got what you call attitude." Sneer. Grin. The Preston Gig. You'd feel privileged if you ever went to this gig; privileged to have been a youth in Preston in 1980. Like everyone I ever met from Hoboken who remember N.O. at Maxwell's on Main Street. It's called having a well time life. We hope that this is well timed. Rarely do appendices, footnotes to history, which is all this is, feel like history. Feel like a piece of time breaking apart. * As the world changes, electronically, we might ask "Why do we have 70 minute CDs". Because Karajan tod the Sony Boys that was the length of his new recording of Beethoven's fifth? No, we have 70 minute CDs so you and I can go to a Joy Division gig. **And this also gets Robert Leo Gretton on record for the first time - check out the interlocution between track 7 and track 8. Better than the bloody miserable bow on that miserable Touched video.

   Incubation, Wilderness, Twenty Four Hours, The Eternal, Heart and Soul, Shadowplay, Transmission, Disorder, Warsaw, Colony, Interzone, and She's Lost Control.