Factory Worker: Tony Wilson

Earlier this month, Tony Wilson announced that he had cancer. I don't know how bad the illness is; Tony apparently has been fairly coy about it, so there's a feeling that it may be worse that what is known. For a guy that's had a lot of ups and downs in his life, there's a sense that Mr. Wilson will overcome this obstacle and live for many more years.
I'm hoping for this.
The ups and downs are fairly notorious and well documented in one of my favorite rock and roll movies of all time, "Twenty-Four Hour Party People." Highly recommended. Put it on your Netflix list immediately if you haven't seen it, or better yet, buy it.
Tony's initial notoriety was as a television personality in Britain. But on June 4th, 1976, Tony was with about 40 other people at the Free Trade Hall in Manchester, England to witness the Sex Pistols perform live. He wasn't the only one on that night who walked away inspired. Indeed, the small crowd present seems like almost a "who's who" of rock history: Howard Devoto (The Buzzcocks/Magazine), Pete Shelly (The Buzzcocks), Morrissey (The Smiths), Ian Curtis (Joy Division), Bernard Sumner (Joy Division/New Order/Electronic), Peter Hook (Joy Division/New Order), Mark E. Smith (The Fall), and others all saw the show and, more importantly, did something about it afterwards.
What Tony did was start the independent record company known as Factory Records.
The band that Factory Records first signed was Joy Division.
When the label experienced financial problems (an occurrence that happened more than once), they were approached by a larger company for a potential buy-out. When it came time to discuss the legalese that comes with any merger, Tony explained that none of his artists ever signed a contract with Factory. The bands on Factory, it seemed, were the ones that owned the label.
Tony also started the legendary Hacienda club in Manchester. The club, which was essentially ground zero for the rave culture back in the late 80's and, despite having little trouble drawing sold out crowds, it too faced financial issues and subsequently closed. On the final night of operation, Tony encouraged the patrons to loot the place on their way out.
On every step of the way, it seems that Mr. Wilson finds no problem picking up the pieces and starting over. This is most assuredly a characteristic that many of us should strive to emulate.
But cancer is a tough broad, and in many cases, thoughts and well-wishes are what's needed to help overcome such an adversary.
After losing Ian Curtis. After losing Martin Hannett. I wanted to make sure my own well-wishes were heard before some online epitaph was created. This isn't a eulogy and I don't know Tony Wilson personally. I do know what he's done for me personally, and if his actions have made an impact in your own life, that verbal strength can be shared with him in the hopes of a speedy recovery.

Factory Records
Anthony Wilson
The Loft, 10A, Little Peter Street
Manchester, England M15 4PS
ahw@factory.u-net.com

One of these days, I'm going to get around to writing that massive undertaking of how fucking brilliant Joy Division were to me.
And I just want Tony to be around to read it.