Paperjam

Morrissey, You Are The Quarry

Music // Jim // 18th May 2004

I usually play badminton a couple of times a week. It is a great game; good fun and a chance to get a bit of a sweat on while making numerous jokes about “cocks”. I only mention this because after a particularly one-sided bout the other day I was chatting with my vanquished opponent and mentioned that the new Morrissey album was out soon.

“ Who?”, she responded to my surprise.
“ Morrissey, you know out of The Smiths...”
“ The Smiths,” she pondered, “are they those two comedians on the telly?”

Later, as I was cleaning the blood off my racquet, I wondered why the stock of Mozzer and The Smiths seems to have diminished so much in recent times. Certainly the musical stylings of The Smiths are still being ripped off left, right and centre by all sorts of indie chancers and Morrissey’s lyrics chart loneliness, despair and being ripped off by record companies with far more style and wit than any number of nu-metal wankers could muster.

Morrissey: Back, Tooled up

It could just be that I am getting older and that the world has moved on to bigger and better things, casting an eye at the charts or any recent copy of the NME will show that of course this is complete bollocks and that if The Libertines, Coldplay and that Fuck You Right Back bird are considered to be cutting it then surely there is space in the collective cultural conscience for the creative forces responsible for The Queen Is Dead, Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me, The Boy With A Thorn In His Side, Panic, Bigmouth Strikes Again, This Charming Man, Handsome Devil, to name just a few.

Of course, the reason that only those who have been fans for ages are really bothered could be a complete lack of significant Smithular activities in recent times. Marr did the Electronic thing and the guitar for hire thing. Morrissey released some really very good and some really rather patchy records. The other two were in a few other bands, I’ve got a record called Stimulator by Delicious, who Andy Rourke played bass for.
As you may know The Smiths got back together some time ago in order to have a really nasty courtroom set-to which ended in drummer Mike Joyce pocketing a large amount of Morrissey and Marr’s cash whilst Mozzer got something of a telling-off before the beak.

Prior to all this Morrissey released what is not only his best solo album, but one of the best records going, the sublime Vauxhall and I, followed by the not-as-great-but-still-worthwhile Southpaw Grammar. After the court case he reached his nadir, the Morrissey album that even I won’t attempt to defend, Maladjusted (although Wide To Receive is a total killer, a diamond in the rough). Following this he lost his record deal and fucked off to live a life of obscurity, exiled in Clark Gables old house in LA.

Recently there were stirrings; word was Mozzer was after a record deal. The NME dropped the whole racism thing and started sucking him off once again by naming The Smiths the best thing ever. There was a documentary where he drove round on a scooter and went to strip clubs while celebrity fans gushed like broken fire hydrants in the background. The Smiths and Morrissey were starting to make a bit of a stir in celebrity circles once more, the fan boy sites all went a bit mental when a photo of Kirsten Dunst in a Rank T-shirt popped up somewhere.

Dunst: T-Shirts, Fan boy excitement

To cut a long story short, Morrissey has now released a new album preceded by the super Irish Blood, English Heart, languishing stylishly at number 3 in the charts as I type. He’s back, he’s older, wiser and quite frankly looks like he could give you a bit of a kicking even without the Tommy Gun he brandishes with no sense of menace whatsoever on the cover. Clearly looking to shift a few units this time round he has acquiesced to the NME and even put in a nervous but ultimately amusing appearance on Jonathon Ross (capped of with a triumphant Every Day Is Like Sunday). Remember this is the man who vetoed The Smiths going on Wogan by not turning up. So with all this effort going in, it is time to find out: Morrissey, You Are The Quarry is it any good?

America Is Not The World
The USA is a naughty boy with some bad habits here comes headmaster Morrissey to deliver a damning lecture. This complete slagging is Book-ended by “I Love You”, a plea to immigration to let him back into L.A. to drive round in his Jag.
Typical Moz theme spotted early doors: “You know where you can stick your hamburger”

Irish Blood, English Heart
The first track is musically un-involving but things liven up here with Moz getting all strident about how he wishes the English would show a bit of backbone before offering out the government and the rest while spitting on the grave of the genocidal founder of parliament, Oliver Cromwell. All this in a belting two and a half minute rock tune with big crashing guitars at the end. The dogs bollocks.

I Have Forgiven Jesus
Back into mid-paced territory for something of a standard, no-one loves me, Morrissey effort. All very pleasant and inoffensive but just not that good, on the plus side it does have one of the finest song titles ever. Doesn’t sound like he’s forgiven him much by the end.

Come Back To Camden
Waltz-timed piano backed balled where we get Morrissey’s grudging reminiscences of North london. All gets a bit soaring in the chorus and the yelp/yodel is let off the leash for the first time on this album.

I’m Not Sorry
Sounds a bit like Jack the Ripper at the start doesn’t it? Takes a while to warm up to the catchy chorus where Morrissey complains that he still can’t get his end away.
“The woman of my dreams, she never came along” wails Moz, knowing all too well that the debates surrounding his preferences in the trouser department will be springing up all over the web. Awful flute bit at the end, really.

The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores
Ah, this is more like it, big anthem with a soaring chorus showcasing the fact that he still has one of the best voices going. The verses bang on about the police being “uniformed whores” and slags off “lock-jawed pop stars, thicker than pig shit” before the the climactic finale when Mozzer asks us all for a hug like the big ponce he is.

How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel
Now he’s upset, she told him she loved him and now he feels like he’s “had my face dragged in fifteen miles of shit”, well we’ve all been there. This is a much heavier track, a really rather angry leave me alone you sad cases sort of thing. Once again the boys in blue are held up for ridicule before we draw to a close.

First Of The Gang To Die
Another great title. Like the retro gang tales of Piccadilly Palare and Spring Heeled Jim transferred stateside. Sounds like this could be a single to me, guitars speed along and Moz yodels “away a hey a hey” into the infinite void of the fade out.

Let Me Kiss You
One of those rare statements of sexual intent he makes occasionally. Not quite up there with “Let me get my hands on your mammary glands”, but Moz is definitely up for a bit of action. Unfortunately the object of his affections thinks he is something of a minger and as usual in the world all is left unrequited and unanswered to an intricate guitar backing.

All the Lazy Dykes
Musically this is reminiscent of several Morrissey songs of yore, while he bleats on about how some mate of his should jump out of the closet and join in the fun with all the other “lazy dykes”. Who could this person be? Pretty dull track to be honest.

I Like You
Slushy but catchy tune with big chorus and anthemic leanings. Over a pounding backing and some electronic noises Morrissey gets all coy and romantic: “You’re not right in the head and nor am I, this is why I like you”. I can see the indie couples singing this at each other at the end of the night in the student union. Super.

You knew I Couldn’t Last
Morrissey bemoans his premature ejaculation issues while Brazil legend Pele freestyles wildly about erectile disfunction over a ragga backing.Only joking, we are back in the land of big chorused anthems as Morrissey gets a few things off his chest regarding record companies, accountants, teenagers and all the nasty things that get said about him. Deploys a few worlds class “oooohhs” and yelps before the curtain is brought down on the album by some jagged guitar and piano while we are reminded about “The squalor of the mind”.

Overall what do we think?
Well it is certainly good to have him back and there are some really good tunes on this. The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores is an instant classic, Irish Blood, English Heart is an angry, political pop song of the type that no-one else has the balls to do this well. At this stage I reckon the album will get better on a repeated listens, there are few less than inspiring moments, but this really makes the good bits stand out further. The lyrical barbs of old are still here but age does seem to be mellowing him a bit. Having said that I never thought I'd hear Morrissey banging on about being repeatedly dragged through miles of shit, we'll put that down to the American influence.

If you are a fan get it immediately you will love it. However don’t be fooled by the publicity, Vauxhall and I still rules supreme as Morrissey’s finest moment.

Moz Links

Morrissey Music.Com

Official site, bit shit really

Morrissey Solo

Comprehensive fan site with all the latest news and ranting

Passions Just Like Mine

The Smiths and Morrissey complete discography