There’s something about seeing Pete Hook play in Liverpool that just hits different. Maybe it’s the history, maybe it’s the crowd, or maybe it’s just that deep, emotional pull those basslines have had on us for decades.
District was rammed early doors. You could tell this wasn’t your average night out; this was full of heads who’d grown up with the music, standing shoulder to shoulder with younger fans who’ve discovered it through records nicked off their parents or late‑night rabbit holes online. The buzz in the room was heavy – that Scouse mix of excitement and knowing nods, like everyone was thinking, “Yeah, this is gonna be boss.”
When Hooky walked on, bass slung low as ever, the place erupted. No messing about, straight into it. That unmistakable sound – thick, melodic, and right in your chest – filled the room instantly. It’s mad how a bassline can carry so much feeling, but that’s always been his thing. You don’t just hear it, you feel it.
The set pulled heavily from Joy Division and New Order, and honestly, it landed exactly how it should. Tracks like ‘Transmission’, ‘Disorder’, ‘She’s Lost Control’ and ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ came thick and fast, each one sounding as vital now as it ever did. ‘Transmission’ had the whole place bouncing, while ‘She’s Lost Control’ felt raw and urgent, like it still had something important to say. ‘Disorder’ was chaos in the best way, all nervous energy and movement, while ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ turned the room into one big, off‑key choir. There was no sense of this being a nostalgia exercise either – it felt alive, proper and current.
‘Ceremony’ was one of those moments where you just stopped and took it in. Later on, New Order classics like ‘Age of Consent’ and ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ brought a different kind of lift – more groove, more smiles, but still that emotional punch Hooky’s known for. Arms round mates, a few misty eyes knocking about, and that chorus echoing back from the crowd like a football chant. Liverpool crowds have always known how to sing, and this was no different. Hooky clocked it too – grinning away, clearly buzzing off the love.
Between songs, the chat was minimal but warm. A few dry comments, a bit of thanks to the city, nothing over the top. He didn’t need to say much anyway – the music was doing all the talking. You got the sense he knows exactly what these songs mean to people round here, and he gave them the respect they deserve.
As the night rolled on, District just got sweatier and louder. ‘Blue Monday’ absolutely tore the roof off – pure chaos in the best possible way, with that opening beat sending the place into meltdown. Pints in the air, everyone dancing like no one was arsed who was watching. That’s what nights like this are about.
By the time the final notes rang out, there was that bittersweet feeling you get when you know you’ve just seen something special, and it might be the last time in that space. Long applause, a proper Scouse send‑off, and a sense of gratitude hanging in the air.
Pete Hook’s gig at District wasn’t flashy or overblown – it didn’t need to be. It was honest, loud, emotional, and full of heart. A legendary musician, in a city that understands him, playing songs that have soundtracked so many lives. Proper boss night, that.
