Tuesday 2 April 2019

The Maladjusted Outsiders


These past few weeks have undoubtedly been busy and exciting for Morrissey fans. Quick on the tail of the upcoming 9-date Canadian Tour, a 7-night residency on Broadway has been announced, selling out instantly. Following the release of swoonworthy lead California Son single, It’s Over (a dreamy Roy Orbison crooner), Moz has released a dazzling Jobriath cover, Morning Starship, and Wedding Bell Blues, featuring Billie Joe Armstrong, will debut on Radio 2 UK, April 8th.


Morrissey singing I Bury The Living, London, 2018

pic via @officialmoz on Twitter



Morning Starship

A lifetime fan, Morrissey released a Jobriath compilation, Lonely Planet Boy, in 2004, and takes the next step in honouring him on California Son with a stunning cover of Morning Starship. Opening with silvery chords and plush lush vocals, 2019’s Morning Starship catapults us into a glistening 1970’s time capsule, while simultaneously offering a modern, polished sound. Morrissey’s vocals glide over Jobriath’s decadent yet ethereal lyrics and he honours the original vision while adding signature Moz-esque nuances that make the song his own. I am living for his heavenly sighs and la la las, naturally.


Pic via MorrisseyCentral.com

Often, there is a snooty veneer of pessimism from naysayer fan-wannabe-critics when an artist, particularly a more mature one, releases a covers album. Some will whine such a venture means one is having “a last hurrah” or has “run out of ideas,” and I’ve seen such regurgitated notions dribbling around social media on occasion. However, Morrissey has once again shut the mouths of armchair critics with these otherworldly covers – showcasing his immense attention to detail, emotional core, and his timeless voice that gets mesmerizingly better with time. The talented musicians surrounding Mozzer have also shown their chops with these covers, demonstrating their aptitude for glittering, fresh arrangements that meanwhile capture the true essence of classic songs.

What makes Morrissey’s covers so brilliant? Everything I mentioned above is certainly a huge part of it, but, I believe a special facet he also brings is that he is at heart a true music fan himself; he’s never lost that wonder and fascination with his favourite artists.



Photo by Kevin Cummins


Before the release of Morrissey’s Morning Starship, I was not tremendously acquainted with Jobriath and his music. With devastating talent and dazzling cheekbones, Jobriath evaded cookie-cutter notions of 70’s rock star ‘shoulds.’ In a time where being an openly gay artist signed to a major label (Elektra) was simply unheard of, Jobriath did just that, and his life story makes even some of the most daredevil rebels seem like yawn-a-thon basic bitches. Tragically, he died quite young of AIDS, but in his 36 years, his life was never flat: he went from devastatingly talented young piano prodigy, to AWOL from the army, to baroque folk artist, to military psychiatric hospital, to prostitution, and this was all even before his emergence as glamorous Jobriath Boone, with the release of Jobriath.*


Jobriath via Wikipedia

Jobriath cut his own path in an industry where many artists simply become constructs of someone else’s vision. Unfortunately, the beige 9-to-5 masses were not prepared for him, and after two albums, he found early retirement as a Manhattan Lounge singer, dying alone at his piano in 1983. Now, Morrissey honours him, and introduces his work to a new generation; as we already knew - he has incredibly good taste.


TOP 50?

About a week ago, I noticed some other fans discussing a SPIN TOP 50 list of Morrissey songs. I clicked the article, which was over a year old, and scrolled through to check out the ranking, but the writing itself was so wilted by character-attacking negativity and bland pepperings of “Morrissey is SO controversial,” that I quickly lost interest. Needless to say, I won’t link to SPIN’s humdrums, but the concept of a Top 50 did pique my interest in attempting my own list – how hard could it be? I tweeted that I was considering making my own, and received positive feedback about the idea, along with a few good-natured threats from online friends about my placement of favourite tracks, and that I would do it ‘right’, right? Eek, what had I gotten myself into?

Never one to shy away from semi self-destructive behaviour, I dared to give it a shot, and began listing my most adored tracks. Well, I soon realized this was more arduous than I had imagined: for every single song I would try to cut, I’d add three more to my list (which certainly speaks to the strength of Morrissey’s catalogue). This initial ranking process was about as calming as Ticketmaster’s new queue system (I’m not sure I’ve recovered from that!), and I burned through at least an entire notebook and pencil, agonizing over revision after revision... I even nearly passed out in a Starbucks – not once, but twice! Apparently compiling a top 50 list is incredibly challenging. Perhaps my relationship with the music is just too personal – and too many feelings and memories are hinged on these songs that saved my life... so, needless to say, after 5 days of stalling and sighs... I felt I had accomplished very little.


Sloth notebook exhausted


But then... out of crossed-out page after page – it suddenly struck me - that one very interesting criteria I had for songs making the cut was: “Could I imagine anyone other than Morrissey writing these lyrics?” Many of the songs I had chosen were unique in that the lyrics featured protagonists who were outcasts, broken, possibly even dangerous – not the typical lovestruck heroes of your basic pop song. In several of his most engaging tracks, Moz sings of criminals, the tormented, and the criminally tormented – and he does so with unwaveringly astute psychological depth, twists of humour, and, at times, strokes of empathy. His songwriting stands out from many other artists as a form of poetic storytelling. So, in lieu of my top 50, I bring you a list of Morrissey’s top solo tracks about outcasts: those who, for whatever reason, live on the fringes of society’s outskirts.


The Youngest Was The Most Loved
Morrissey/Tobias

Opening with wailing sirens, Ringleader Of The Tormentors’ The Youngest Was The Most Loved tells the tale of a cherubic featured child, spoiled and shielded by overprotective parents, only for it all to backfire as he grows up and becomes a ruthless killer. Seemingly perfect people turning to dark fates are often met with ‘shock’ by news media hinged on the notion of traditional sunshiney families. Things are not always as they appear, even if you do have a retrousse nose and lovely wife. Musically, the song features an Italian child’s choir, juxtaposed with grinding guitars and a throbbing bassline. The refrain, “there is no such thing in life as normal,” strikes me as comforting: we may be doing a lot better in life than those we consider successful, or ‘perfect.’ ‘Normal’ is nonexistent - a completely unrealistic expectation.


Gif via Tumblr



Jack The Ripper
Morrissey/Boorer

Set in the looming soot-blackened back alleys of 1880s London, Jack The Ripper’s first guitar notes evoke chopping knives slicing through thick-hanging fog. My take is that the lyrics are the voice of Ripper himself: “your face is as mean as your life has been” expresses his repulsion towards his victims, yet also he hovers on the edge of romanticization, or at least strange desire: “crash into my arms, I want you.” While muted longing and disgust frame his vision of the prostitutes he kills, he tends to justify his actions: “you don’t agree, but you don’t refuse,” in an act of psychological twisting. Here, both the killer and the victims are outcasts, or... is Ripper’s resentment built out of his own dehumanization of such outcasts? Regardless, the musical atmosphere, combined with Morrissey’s haunting vocals, make this one of the most deliciously creepy romantic songs ever written.


The Last Of The Famous International Playboys
Morrissey/Street

Another song that delves into the killer’s psyche, The Last Of The Famous International Playboys is more focused on the glamorization of crime, and parts read like a fan letter to notorious Ronnie and Reggie Kray. The speaker claims to not be “naturally evil, only killing in order to make himself appear “more attractive.” With swaggering guitars, roguish vocals, and a powerful bass drum kick, the feel of the track is quite sexy, with a dusting of 60’s glamour. Morrissey’s take, according to Mozipedia: “Within the song, the quest to be an international playboy is a myth. Just simply by being notorious and wanting to be extreme and a part of the criminal underworld, desperate to be so. A lot of people, in order to be famous, and in order to be acknowledged, do something destructive. Or commit murder” (216). The lyrics also offer critique of the media’s treatment of criminals: “in our lifetime those who kill, the newsworld hands them stardom.” Yet another reason to “stop watching the news”? Perhaps.


The Krays via The Spectator



Ambitious Outsiders
Morrissey/Whyte

Over a vintage horror-show creeping instrumental complete with sinister strings, the lyrics to Maladjusted’s Ambitious Outsiders inform you that no amount of security can protect you or your family from a motivated, calculated attack: think scare-mongering news stories gone wild. The speaker appears to be part of a child killing gang, lurking around blank-faced suburbia, tapping into the fear – and knowledge – that murderers exist among us, relatively unnoticed. “There’s not really much point in making safe music,” Morrissey argues (Mozipedia). While the mood is undeniably disturbing, I feel some lines border on amusing: “you’re giving, giving, giving...” feels like a play on the commonly touted notion that procreation itself is a melodramatic act of selflessness (often with no consideration of how well one’s children are cared for once they are brought into the world). Again, like Ripper, the killer applies a certain level of mental gymnastics to justify their behaviour: “we’re just keeping the population down.”


Maladjusted
Morrissey/Boorer

Of course, not all of our outcasts are killers, many are simply Maladjusted. The title track off Morrissey’s 1997 album, with gently wailing guitars haunting below a rolling imagery-rich story, Maladjusted mainly speaks from the perspective of a young protagonist living in outskirtish impoverished London. Perhaps a prostitute, or “working girl,” she has little idea how to cope or exist in a world that keeps those who are down, down. “With my hands on my head, I’ll flop on your bed, with a head full of dread for all I’ve ever said,” speaks to me as someone who has struggled with mental illness, particularly anxiety, as every word uttered, thought, or action, seems to condemn one to a lifetime of overthinking and self-loathing. The song’s format deviates from typical verse-chorus-verse, creating the perfect musical topography to reflect the vagabond life of a restless, wandering outcast. The metaphor: the gulf between all the things I need and the things I receive is an ancient ocean wide, wild, lost, uncrossed” punches you to the core.


The Father Who Must Be Killed
Morrissey/Whyte

Another gem from Ringleader of The Tormentors, The Father Who Must Be Killed tells a gripping gothic short story in under 4 minutes. Menacing percussion and carnivalesque guitars frame the stepchild’s beyond-strained relationship with her repugnant stepfather – (oh, how the food chewing image burns). Magical is Morrissey’s ability to sing words akin to their action – RIPS, or the frantic description of stabbing. The stepchild’s racing thoughts lead her to the knife in the drawer downstairs, then to the father who must be killed in his own bed. She then kills herself, her own death the only fathomable way to feel free of her own shame and guilt, for lives are short and filled with pain anyway: “this death will complete me” drifts into a beautiful, peaceful image: “just as motherless birds fly high, then so shall I...” As stunningly clear as a master’s painting.


Morrissey in Rome cerca Ringleader



November Spawned A Monster
Morrissey/Langer

Yet again Morrissey brings topics into pop music that are rarely touched by any other. A quick tempoed, chaotic instrumental with eerie flutes and tumbleweed guitars meld with Morrissey’s lyrics examining the frustration of someone who is visibly disabled. Attuned with empathy, Moz describes the suffocating pity hurled upon the girl, which leads to palpable exhaustion, particularly from being the root of whispered and not-so-whispered gossip. It is yet another stifling burden for her to face, along with the “wheels underneath her.” Morrissey received thank you letters for his treatment of the topic: “After November Spawned a Monster, 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’” (Len Brown, 180).


Something Is Squeezing My Skull
Morrissey/Whyte

Unlike the character in November Spawned A Monster, the protagonist in Years of Refusal’s Something Is Squeezing My Skull suffers invisibly, with mental illness. While one benefit to an invisible illness is the possible ability to appear ‘normal,’ this can also be a drawback in the sense that people often accuse one of faking, or react with the unbearably patronizing “it can’t be that bad." The manic tempo and gritty guitars drive through a punk rock quick 2 1/2 minutes of dismissive interactions filled with the character’s exasperating and isolating experience with mental health, particularly the faux-positive affirmations and nosiness of others: “I know by now you think I should have straightened myself out – thank you, drop dead.” “There is no love in modern life” and the modern world does little to soothe a sensitive soul. The song concludes with a chaotic, crescendoing avalanche of Rx.


Photo by seemserene on Instagram



I Bury The Living
Morrissey/Tobias

The newest song on our list, Low In High School’s I Bury The Living is a long semi-operatic storytelling masterpiece of strings, combat-boot drums, high tension instrumentals, and an exploration of the darker side of human nature. Our “wretched outcast” is uninspired and lacking thought, but with a deranged edge – the perfect sponge for military brainwashing. Morrissey delves into the disturbing psychological side of warfare: unquestioning, the soldier takes orders to kill, which he seems to do with gusto and blood lust: “give me an order, I’ll blow up your daughter.” Played live, this song is even more powerfully exquisite.


Morrissey singing I Bury The Living live in Dublin


Morrissey takes us on multiple journeys with his songs, luring us into psychological and emotional depths we rarely, if ever, find in popular music. In some instances we may empathize or feel more understood, and in others we may feel haunted or disturbed, but the fact remains – Morrissey inspires us to think and feel on another level – and he is never, ever a crashing bore.


Thank you for reading: the tour begins in less than two weeks. Viva Moz!


Chicken friend I met the other week:
Friends, not food!




Sources: Mozipedia and Meetings With Morrissey