Written between August and September in 1979 and debuted during their fall tour opening for Buzzcocks, “Love Will Tear Us Apart” existed only briefly before it became christened as Ian Curtis’ last will and testament. It has since become one of the most recognizable independent songs ever, has been covered by dozens of artists (including U2, Arcade Fire, Thom Yorke, Broken Social Scene, Bloc Party, and The Cure), named the “best single of all time” by NME in 2002 and rightfully shows up just about every list of the greatest songs ever recorded. Though some bristle at the idea of tying the song’s brittle lyrics to Curtis’ short and troubled life, there’s ample evidence he was searching to excise his own demons in the song, saying In a rare audio interview that his approach to writing stresses “personal relations.” 

By 1980, just three short years after forming, Joy Division were one of the most vital rock groups in the world. Their first album, Unknown Pleasures, was released in late 1979 and was hailed as an instant classic, while their live shows, on the strength of Curtis’s intense performances, were drawing ever-larger crowds. But even as the group’s star was on the rise Curtis was suffering from an overwhelming onslaught of personal traumas: His epilepsy was exacerbated by his lifestyle and his doctors told him to avoid drinking, drugs, and too much excitement. To make things worse he was prescribed a series of barbiturates (such as phenobarbital and carbamazepine) to help control his epilepsy that only further clouded his senses and may have amplified his depression and sense of isolation. But it was the failure of his marriage to Deborah Curtis, whom he had fallen in love with at the age of sixteen and who was also the mother of his daughter, Natalie, which stalked the corners of his mind. He oscillated wildly between obvious affection for his family and the rush of intense feelings he was feeling for Belgian journalist Annik Honoré, whom he had met in October 1979. To compound his health and relationship troubles, he was also feeling at odds with his part in Joy Division. According to Deborah Curtis in her biography of her late husband, Touching From a Distance, the singer had no interest in recording anything beyond the “Transmission” single and Unknown Pleasures, writing that the singer’s “aspirations had never extended to recording ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ or Closer.” The group’s initial salvos had fulfilled his desires and his interest in the group was waning even as he felt a sense of dependence from the other members of the group and Tony Wilson and the people at Factory, but Deborah Curtis insists he was little more than “a music industry puppet” at this point. Commenting on the song’s appearance during a February 8, 1980 University of London show, NME called it “a staggeringly melodic and momentous piece,” while Melody Maker curiously asked, “Optimism on the way?” Little did everyone know that the troubled singer had little more than three short months left. 

“Love Will Tear Us Apart” was first caught on tape during the group’s November 1979 appearance on John Peel’s Radio 1 show and subsequently recorded twice in-studio: First in January 1980 and again in March. The reason for the two studio sessions resulting primarily from Curtis’s vocal and Tony Wilson’s request that the singer envelope himself in Frank Sinatra’s Forty Great Songs and give his second attempt more of a hopeless croon—the second take is noticeably slower and is the more popular version of the song. “Love Will Tear Us Apart” was first released as a single in April 1980 with “These Days” as well as the initial, faster version of the song on the flipside. The cover art, which featured nothing more than the title of the song nd the Factory Records catalog number (23), was created using acid-etched metal and had the appearance of a weathered gravestone, which gave Deborah Curtis pause in retrospect her husband “was already well ahead with his plans for his demise.” Melody Maker praised it immediately as “a powerfully original piece of music.”  

The song is unabashed pop for a group as resolutely downtrodden and confrontational as Joy Division. Opening with an iconic thrum of guitar (the post punk version of the instantly recognizable chord that introduces “Hard Days Night”), which quickly gives way to a simple synthesizer lead, Peter Hook’s melodic bass, and Stephen Morris’s mechanical beat, creating a lively and sterile mid-tempo bed for Curtis’s languid vocal. The lyrics spell out the stark and heartbreakingly simple ways in which relationships fade, marking love’s demise through routine and failure. He asks “Why is the bedroom so cold?” recognizing that something has disappeared even as “there’s still this appeal we’ve kept through our lives.” But it’s in the final verse that his confusion closes in with all his “failings exposed” his “desperation takes hold” capped off by the quixotic truth “that something so good just can’t function no more.” The dichotomy between the severe truths Curtis is dredging up and his monotonous, robotic delivery is at the heart of the song’s appeal. The faster studio recording, as well as the quickstep live performances in existence, aren’t imbued with the same icy and detached confusion. They barrel forward while the March 1980 studio take walks hesitatingly forward; it knows how everything ends and its not rushing to get there.

Curtis had already attempted suicide at least one other time, writing a note and ingesting a large number of Phenobarbital, before confessing to his wife and being rushed to the hospital to have his stomach pumped, but on May 18, 1980 he succeeded in ending his life, hanging himself in the kitchen of his Manchester home. Deborah Curtis chose the song title for the words inscribed on her husband’s memorial stone in the crematorium where his ashes rest. Following Curtis’s suicide the single was re-released—Tony Wilson almost collaborating with the singer from the grave on an unspoken plan to build his dark mythology—and it climbed to #13 on the UK singles chart. It was re-released in 1983 and charted again, peaking at #19. The song was released again in 1995 to mark both the release of the “best-of” album, Permanent, and to commemorate the 15th anniversary of Curtis’s death; again in 2007 to celebrate expanded, re-mastered editions of the band’s three albums; and in 2009 in alternate versions culled from Martin Hannett’s master tapes. The song’s enduring appeal will no doubt lead to more cover versions and even more re-issues of this post-punk cornerstone, but its hard to imagine that any will come close to the heartbreaking appeal of the version everyone knows and, yes, loves.