Tuesday 29 March 2016

Favourite Compilation Album and Loose Ends

Okay... deep breath. I can already HEAR everyone inwardly and outwardly rolling their eyes.  I am inwardly and outwardly rolling my eyes also.  However, I am providing you with yet another blob link as I've decided to set up a personal Morrissey blog at this address for the articles I pen... or rather, type.  My collaborative articles can still be found at The Real And Proper World Of Moz.  And hopefully some more will come one day.  But for now I shall post ones that I write myself up here on this site.  To be honest, at this point I think I just write articles because I enjoy writing them, although I have heard the odd kind comment about my posts.  To me, writing is cathartic. Anyway, as any writer knows (I feel weird calling myself one in a way as I don't write professionally), one must always write for oneself. Regardless, I'm done waffling on about how I go through blog sites faster than Liz Taylor goes through husbands; let's get to some more interesting topics.


So, the other night when I couldn't sleep (surprise, surprise) I posted a twitter poll asking my followers what their favourite Morrissey compilation album is.  If you are on twitter, which most of you are, you'll know that polls can only have four options, so I chose: Bona Drag, My Early Burglary Years, Greatest Hits, and Swords.  The results are below:



Out of 48 votes, Bona Drag was the clear favourite, with 52% of the votes.  Swords was second, at 23%, followed by My Early Burglary Years (17%) and Greatest Hits (8%).  I thought it might be interesting to talk a bit about the album, which was released in October 1990.  According to Mozipedia, the title is "a nod to the Julian and Sandy 60s radio sketches."  The expression 'bona drag' means 'good clothes' in palare slang.


I always like to hear people's personal perspectives on albums.  There's a certain wealth to looking at our own experience of music and other art forms - as we all experience things differently.  Songs may mean something all together different to us as listeners than what their initial meaning was to the original artiste. That said, I thought I'd say what some of the songs on this album mean to me.  I hope, but of course don't expect (as many of you are shy when it comes to commenting, judging by the usual disparity in hit count to comment count) some of you might give a crack at saying what the songs mean to you as well.  But, in the end I'll just about explode with joyful disbelief to see merely a few hits as I'm gambling by making my own rambling blog for now.

Let's get started; under each song title I'll link to a live clip:

November Spawned a Monster:

Live in Dallas, 1991

Well first off, I must say I really like this video. Mozza writhing around in the desert in a sheer black shirt certainly isn't hard on the eyes, although it can be quite hard on the heart - as my heart rate soars just at the mere thought of it.  But, going a little deeper, and looking at the lyrics, as I love to do, it speaks to me on a few different levels.



Sleep on and dream of love
Because it's the closest you will get to love.

Wow - that really tugs at the broken shreds and shards of one's heart.  The misfits of the world, the disfigured, the loners - whether our brokenness is visibly apparent or not, can relate to this feeling, or perhaps, to be more bruisingly accurate, this truth.  These lines grip me personally, as inside I feel somewhat of a fragile, unique, broken misfit, certainly mentally, although the song itself is actually about someone who is disabled in the sense of being wheelchair-bound. Imagine that life for a moment. The hushed whispers... the constantly being "felt sorry for" and discussed. Morrissey sums it up in a couple of lines:

"But Jesus made me so Jesus save me from
pity, sympathy, and people discussing [often changed to idiots live] me"

Being a constant conversation centerpiece must add a whole other facet of exhaustion to a life that is already fraught with its own numerous challenges. And who else had ever written songs about the wheelchair bound? In an interview with Len Brown, Morrissey discusses that he received many letters from people who were in such a position, and who loved the song:

"I had letters from people who were wheelchair-bound and they expressed enormous support and understanding and thanks for the record. It's not just a matter of 'thank you for including us because no one else does' but 'thank you for involving us in the right way.'"

He goes on to say: "...If you see someone in what we oddly refer to as an unfortunate situation, someone who's wheelchair bound, if you're very perceptive and sensitive you can fully imagine the lifelong frustrations of constantly being discussed by other people, and constantly having people being irritatingly kind to you." (p. 180, Brown)

The truth is there's such a fine balance between demonstrating concern and just being overtly nosy to the point of suffocation. Even with demonstrating concern, especially if it's done in an overbearing way, do we somehow strip people of any semblance of autonomy?  And over-dosages of saccharine kindness, while at times seemingly well-meaning, can smack of patronizing artificiality. It's certainly not all for debate here, as this isn't my purpose with this article, but... Morrissey's music gets us thinking.


Will Never Marry

Live in Chile, 2015



With this song, in some sense, I believe Moz is telling the ho-hum status quo to get stuffed, in a gentle way, of course.  In this sense it makes me think of (I'm) The End Of The Family Line.  It also, of course, reads like a refusal to a marriage proposal, so whether it's a little bit of both, or possibly neither, I'm unsure. Now...wait for it - I love to complain about advertising - and those of you who follow me on twitter will know where I'm going with this - as I probably have become far too predictable about it - BUT - many people seem to be of the mindset (still in the 21 century) that there is a predetermined structure for how we should live our lives: school - university - work - get married - buy a house - have kids - retire - have grandkids. Should. Should. Should.  Perhaps some people are quite happy with such a lifestyle; who am I to question. But, and this is another capital BUT - if one does not want such a lifestyle, then why should one feel forced into it because of external pressures?  These pressures radiate both from the media, and often our friends and family (in the latter two cases perhaps under the guise of well-meaningness, but again, the word 'nosy' comes up, if you ask me)

My view on this is going to sound semi-extreme, but I believe advertising is nearly virulently violent when it comes to this life 'recipe.'  Repeatedly sending a message of what's 'normal' and 'desirable' through advertising is indeed a form of low-grade propaganda - and for those outside the neat little boxes readily pre-determined for us, closed-minded views can induce personal and interpersonal havoc. Certainly some people want these lives, but others slip into these lives with tacit placid acquiescence, not truly wanting them. As for the people who try to unchain themselves, or the people who never want such lives to begin with, ridicule can be abundant, simply for hoisting themselves from the herd. And perhaps, in some strange way, no matter which life direction we take or don't take, a sense of guilt or questioning catches up with us.  Anyway, enough of my rambling. What I adore about Morrissey is that he provides an alternative to the mindset many of us are force-fed. Love and marriage are not the same thing.  And, yes, loneliness and being alone are two different things as well.

It's also quite simply a beautiful song - and very moving to see live.

I'll leave you with this quote:

 “Everyone is, in fact, alone. Being contractually tied to another person—in marriage, for example—accentuates the loneliness, because you have effectively allowed the state to determine your obligations to someone, as if you can’t trust and manage your own feelings by yourself. Anyway, I see humans as essentially solitary creatures, and this is not changed by surrounding ourselves with others, because they too are solitary. Life is a very serious business for the simple reason that nobody dies laughing.
—  Morrissey, from Rookie Mag, 2013



Short and sweet with this one - but this song always makes me think of landing at Heathrow and then going on a coach ride through downtown London last September.  I had it playing in my earbuds and was mesmerized by the architecture - as we don't have many beautiful old buildings where I live, in North America. For me it was a sensory feast.

"Here is London, giddy London
Is it home of the free or what?"

Morrissey appearing live at Hammersmith Apollo in giddy London - photo by Burak Cingi



Everyday Is Like Sunday

Live in Honolulu, Hawaii, 2012

I already discussed this one in my blog post last month at Real and Proper World Of Moz. I'll just recap here:  

EDILS is the first Moz solo song I listened to TONS, as in several times a day when I first discovered Moz.  What I initially found so remarkable is how the lyrics are so bleak yet also quite funny.  They really exemplify Morrissey’s ability to weave this grey, disenchanted experience of life, with lines that showcase his impeccable sense of humour; in fact, many lines achieve both.

Also, this song is always so powerful live.


Yes, I Am Blind

Live in Seattle, 2015

I saw this live at the first Morrissey concert I ever went to and I was in awe, and became rather tearfulL (and not just because of my name).  The instrumentals frame Morrissey's vocals in a way I can't quite describe: my words cannot capture it; the guitar runs, for some reason, make me think of a sad, lilting, spinning breeze.

"Yes I am blind,
No I can't see the good things,
Just the bad things... oh...
Yes I am blind
No I can't see, 
There must be something
Horribly wrong with me"

I spend a great portion of my life feeling this way, so when I first heard this song I felt as if Morrissey was speaking directly to me.  Being chronically depressed, I have trouble seeing good things in life much of the time.  I cannot fathom exactly what this abstract concept of 'happiness' means, in anything other than fleeting moments (which I feel very lucky to have had considering how often I'm low).  The modern world is fraught with pressures and pains, and the poetic side to life is minimal.  We are bombarded with horrifying images from the news media of war and death and power-hungry-self-aggrandizing fools like Donald Trump are somehow 'successful' (successful in what, I'll leave you to decide); images of greed and fast-food, fast-technology, plastic-bodies and plastic-emotions are thrust upon us repeatedly.  It's all very depressing, and then when we consider our many other daily struggles, it can be hard to see the joys in life.  This song is like a life preserver for me in that it makes me feel less alone.  

I'll end this one with a quote from the Larry King interview:


Disappointed 
The last song I'm going to write about here is Disappointed.  I won't ramble on. I adore this line - because - isn't this so astute about so many of our many dealings with other people?

"Don't talk to me, no
About people who are 'nice'.
'Cause I have spent my whole life in ruins
Because of people who are 'nice'."

Admit it - I'm sure you've known a few of these 'nice' people yourselves.  As long as I can remember I've felt this way - I can think of more than a few examples just from high school, but oh... let's not go there.




Goodnight - and thank you!