Peter Hook talks a good fight. But where he was once notorious for fiery outbursts and surly interviews, the former punk rocker turned Manchester music mogul is a much calmer chameleon nowadays, a recovering alcoholic and mellow family man. The Joy Division and New Order bass guitarist insists he is "still easily provoked", but he says this with a dry laugh. In truth, at 55, Captain Hook is more domesticated teddy bear than belligerent buccaneer on the stormy seas of rock. All the same, Hook still has a flair for provoking anger in others. His former colleagues in New Order, the band he quit acrimoniously in 2007, rarely miss an opportunity to attack him in interviews. The bass player says relations began to thaw recently with singer Bernard Sumner, who now fronts the band Bad Lieutenant, but then "hit a bump". Ho hum. Back to square one. Meanwhile, Hook is steeling himself for more flak from music critics and Joy Division fans, having recently re-recorded several of the legendary Manchester quartet's classic archive tracks with his own new band, The Light, including a previously unheard song. The long-lost "new" number, <em>Pictures in My Mind</em>, is a scrappy minor relic from Joy Division's early days, but it has an attractively punky energy. It originated on a scratchy rehearsal-room tape unearthed by an obsessive group of superfans. Hook filled in a few lyrical gaps before adding his own gruff vocals to this new studio version. "Ian Curtis was one of those people who said whenever you had an idea for a song, you should always finish it because somebody will love it," Hook says. "The guy was wonderful at telling a story, whether it was his own story or somebody else's. In all the lyrics I've looked at in more than 30 years, there aren't many people who can do what Ian did, in a few words. I very rarely hear lyrics as evocative as Ian's, or music as evocative as Joy Divisions." Three decades after Curtis committed suicide, Joy Division are still globally revered by fans and musicians alike, which makes Hook's new project particularly sensitive. He is acutely aware that re-recording their back catalogue will be anathema to some hardcore fans. Indeed, several male vocalists declined his offer to stand in for Curtis, scared off by the prospect of harsh criticism and unflattering comparison. Only Rowetta, a Factory Records veteran and former Happy Mondays vocalist, defies potential naysayers with her rousing remake of <em>Atmosphere</em>, still one of the band's greatest anthems. Hook admits he is "as nervous as anybody" about hostile reactions, but he also points out the overwhelming demand that greeted him last year when he played Joy Division's debut album <em>Unknown Pleasures</em> live. Initially a one-off event, it ballooned into a global tour. He is now touring a live version of their second album, Closer. "Something I've learned is that the people who come and pay generally want to hear it," he says, "and they are delighted when you do it justice." In one sense, Hook's bolshie disregard for critical consensus is pure punk rock, a throwback to the days when Joy Division were the unloved runts of the Manchester music scene. "The last thing you want to do is agree with someone," Hook laughs. "Ian Curtis, I know for a fact, would explode at criticism of Joy Division because he felt we were a fantastic group. And it was that strength that enables you to keep going when you couldn't get a gig or sell a record." Reviving Joy Division's music is just one of Hook's ever-growing stable of Manchester music projects. Since the death of New Order manager Rob Gretton in 1999 and Factory Records founder Tony Wilson in 2007, the bass player has taken over as self-appointed curator of the much-loved post-punk label's legacy. Starting with his sideline as a club and festival DJ, which he calls "the second best job in the world", he has built a business empire on his hometown's rich musical history. Wilson's tireless civic pride once earned him the nickname "Mr Manchester", a mantle that Hook now seems keen to inherit by cleverly reviving Factory and its legendary loss-making nightclub The Hacienda as lucrative brands. "Tony Wilson and Rob Gretton believed n Manchester because of the people," Hook explains. "Without a doubt, Tony was right when he said the Hacienda and Factory were responsible for making Manchester more appealing to the world." Early last year, Hook published the first of three planned memoirs about his music career, titled <em>The Hacienda: How Not to Run a Club</em>. He also opened his Factory club in Manchester, a hi-tech music bunker housed in the company's erstwhile office-block home. The stark modernist interior was even designed by Ben Kelly, who was also responsible for the Hacienda. Of course, the original club was a notorious financial disaster, helping to bankrupt the label. But The Factory is a more professional joint venture with the established club chain Tokyo Industries, whose managing director Aaron Mellor is himself a former Hacienda DJ. This time, Hook insists he has got his sums right. "There is an aspect of getting it right," he nods, "but the main thing is doing something worthwhile." But for some, all this rebranding and recycling only proves how much Hook is shamelessly cashing in on Manchester's pop past. Last year, he even launched a limited-edition run of bass guitars carved from the maple wooden slats of the Hacienda's dance floor. Around the same time, fellow Mancunian rock legend and Stone Roses veteran Gary "Mani" Mounfield publicly accused his long-time friend of "living off Ian Curtis' blood money" when their joint band project Freebass collapsed. The pair soon reconciled, but Hook remains defensive. "Mani phoned up the next day and apologised," he says. "It was obviously about Freebass, nothing to do with Joy Division, I just caught him at a bad moment. People do have their opinions, but this is survival to me. I still have to work for a living. And I'm very lucky in that what I've revived, I'm very proud of. It's not like selling Heinz baked beans, it's actually something culturally significant that changed the world of music, the world of business, the world of clubbing. I'm delighted by it and - I hate to say this - but it doesn't make a lot of money." In the current harsh economic climate, Hook insists, exploiting his own musical legacy is more about necessity than luxury. He also claims he plans to invest in Manchester's musical future, too, signing new acts to Hacienda Records and showcasing young bands in the Factory club. But having seen illegal downloading drain away more than 90 per cent of New Order's album royalties, he is also fiercely keen to maintain a career by other means. And Captain Hook is not going down without a fight. "There are many starving artists suffering for their art, but I tried that when I was a kid and I didn't like it," Hook laughs. "You do weigh it up, you do look at the pros and cons of everything, but it is about survival. It's all about opportunities for me. I've had a lucky, wonderful life. I'm spoilt rotten, I get to play the rock star at the grand old age of 55. And I ain't giving it up, mate!" <em>Follow us on Twitter and keep up to date with the latest in arts and lifestyle news at <a href="http://twitter.com/LifeNationalUAE" target="_blank" title="Twitter: Opens in a new window">twitter.com/LifeNationalUAE</a></em>