Viva Moz Vegas - A Review

How do I know this is all real?

I’ve never been very good at living in the moment. My brain is always swirling, chattering, past, present, here, there, and anywhere. Excitement for the next gig was often what got me through tough times, or even simply dull times. But this time, with Morrissey’s Las Vegas residency postponed for over a year, in a world of ‘new anything-but-normal,’ I couldn’t let myself get too excited, or even very excited at all, because I knew, if it didn’t happen, the crash would be too painful.  It felt like the odds were stacked against me.

Booking flights, hotel, and planning with friends, I couldn’t allow myself to believe. The Canadian and US border was still a shifting list of incongruent rules and complexities. It felt daunting. I’m going to meet the one I love, so please don’t stand in my way... Even packing my suitcase 2 days before flying... I still can’t allow myself to believe. We have to pass negative covid tests to board our trans-border flight, or it’s not gonna happen. It’s virtually impossible to find a place that even offers the tests and documentation, and fairly last minute, we find one. It's a travel agency where the lone agent stands up from his palm-tree pamphleted desk to dress in PPE: a face shield, mask, gloves, and gown to administer our testing vials. It’s beyond Kafakesque absurdity. Welcome to the Knockabout 2020’s.

Our tests are negative; it finally feels more real, yet I still can’t allow myself to believe it is. I awake from a short restless nap to arrive at the airport in time for our flight. Canadian airports remain relatively empty for summer travel, yet even masked and with new tensions, precious memories of past tours begin trickling into my consciousness, prompted by elements as seemingly inert as the carpet pattern at Vancouver airport, or the feel of sun pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows as planes crawl out of gates. The sight of a wind sock almost makes me cry. Do I need help? Possibly... but who doesn’t these days?

Touching down in Las Vegas via triple connection, it still feels like Vegas. Pandemia Vegas – flashing lights, busy casinos with chirping slot machines, just be-masked and sanitized. It’s quite busy too, which, after years of not doing very much, takes some getting used to. We are staying at the Paris, and I can see Caesar’s Palace Colosseum’s marquee from across the street: my eyes are blessed by a giant glowing Morrissey - Viva Moz Vegas - an angelic handsome devil in white. Is it real yet?

On gig day I can hardly eat, which isn’t anything shockingly new. I preen with great care in preparation for the show: if I’m nervous inside, I may as well look as nice as I can. Hours tick down, down, down, and then, through scorching evening desert heat, the surreal walk to the venue begins. Crowds saunter, and suddenly my legs burst with more energy than they have had since 2019. I feel as if I’m emerging from a chrysalis, and my wings ache to move as I weave between barely-moving drunk tourists, smoky poker sugar daddies, and glitzy showgirls. Oh, the butterflies. I’m going to see the one I love, so please don’t stand in my way!

In Caesar’s Palace, a blur of reproduced Roman gods and goddesses, lovely smooth marble physiques, and jewelled carpets all reel past, a backdrop to our true purpose, and we arrive at the tall, heavy wooden entrance doors to the Colosseum – does it feel real now? Familiar fan faces approach – and giddy reunions of disbelief occur. I missed my friends.  And then... the clock strikes, and doors swing open.

Talk about nerves – the contents of my purse fly everywhere as I race into the lobby, but I'm way too giddy to feel embarrassed.  Thunderous pounding makes my veins pulse with life and - deep breath – I take the walk through lush darkness down velvety steps to the stage. My seat is front row, Jesse’s side of the stage. There is no barrier, no distance, and in a strange moment, my elbows once again touch the cool embrace of the stage. It feels like home.

Looking up at the backdrop star, who I later learn is actor Steve Cochran, it suddenly seems as if time, with all that endless waiting and worrying, hasn’t passed – and I am in the moment. Pre-show songs begin and I’m back where I was in 2019.  In my worst waves of pessimism (of which I admittedly endure many), I worried this would never happen again, for, ultimately – governments - operating under varying levels of incompetency, have more control over us than I ever, in my naivete, realized, and, without getting more political than I need to be, as this isn’t my purpose here, I had lost a lot of hope.

As Lypsinka’s wails fill the screen, I feel as if I have at least 5 hearts coursing through my body and pulsing through my hands. I think this is how it feels to be alive – all passion and nerves. And then, from the depths of backstage, through lights and misty smoke, Morrissey appears, looking absolutely gorgeous, his silver quiff catching glimpses of light, his blue eyes once again reunited with his audience. He wears a beautifully tailored grey double-breasted suit jacket, a t-shirt cut at the neck to reveal a delicate white rosary, and dark wash jeans. Good looking man about Vegas indeed!

“When you walk without ease...on these... streets where you were raised,” his voice pours, so longed for, so smoothly, better than gold, into our yearning, starved ears. The guitars phrase, swelling and sparkling: it is nothing short of mystical. This is the first time Never Had No One Ever has been played live since 1986. It's one of my favourite Smiths songs, and once again, I can’t quite believe anything is real. On the backdrop, young Morrissey watches over in black and white, as he sings his life to us.

The band lineup has changed since I last saw Morrissey back in 2019, with the addition of Alain Whyte on guitar, Solomon Walker on bass, and Brendan Buckley on drums. As in 2019, Jesse Tobias is on guitar and Gustavo Manzur is on keyboards. The band is fierce and energetic, with just the right amount of swagger, and it’s particularly enjoyable to observe how much fun Alain and Solomon have as they interact: the makings of a great team. The group is tight and energetic, and I can’t wait to hear more out of them.

Photo by @mischievousnose

It’s a night of live debuts from Morrissey’s extensive catalogue, including many from his most recent album, I Am Not A Dog On A Chain. Knockabout World is especially brilliant live, and Mozzer's voice soothes the most jagged and ragged of souls. Fans sing along ardently, as he shakes hands, reconnecting with us, accepting our gifts, and life feels like life again, not merely existence. This Night Has Opened My Eyes is an emotional surprise, another Smiths track not aired since 1986: save your life... because you’ve only got one. I cannot believe my ears, eyes, heart!

Photo by @mischievousnose

The night is not without some Las Vegas bedlam, for it is a Saturday night after all, and drinks are plentiful, and at one point a long-lasting stage invasion occurs, as some fans, including a woman donning gilded platform shoes, join the frenzy. I feel fairly fortunate not to get a disco boot to the face in all the limbs and craziness. As the night rolls on, the towering walls of the Colosseum pound with energy through a spirited cover of The Pretenders’ Back on The Chain Gang and the defiant mic cord whips of Irish Blood, English Heart. It is vibrant, fearless, raw. 

“This microphone is my headstone” ... and the night draws to a close, with a moving double encore of I’ve Changed My Plea to Guilty, and Jack The Ripper, where Morrissey flings a pale pink blazer into the clutching, hungry hands of the audience.

And the next night... we get to do it all again.

Sunday, August 29^th

I would say it’s beginning to feel real now... but I keep feeling afraid I’ll wake up from this exquisite dream. We have our own little party going at the rail, snapping selfies, and catching up with friends, enjoying the pre-show music. While not all international playboygirls are able to make it due to travel restrictions and many are dearly missed, it is wonderful to see so many familiar faces, and the love of Morrissey has brought many great friendships into my life.

Pre-show videos add to the burgeoning, volcanic excitement, showcasing Morrissey’s influences and loves. I enjoy the Supremes’ Reflections especially, as it reminds me of a childhood cassette and long-ago kitchen singalongs. Human League’s Sound of The Crowd and The Ramones’ Loudmouth inspire surges of energy in an already exuberant crowd. These videos are truly a big part of the ritual of a Morrissey concert, building up to the coveted moment he appears on the stage.

Twin James Baldwins appear on the towering backdrop and delicious wisps of fog bloom, and the moment arrives, when Morrissey and the band emerge from backstage.  Tonight, Morrissey wears an embroidered navy blue suit, and as he walks closer and my eyes adjust, I see he is wearing a gift I've given to him - a little humpback whale pin. I feel my heart overflow with immeasurable joy: it means everything to me to see him wear it.

The band erupts into How Soon Is Now?, chords aflame and lights aflicker, and the son and heir croons those beloved, familiar lines, always a lifeline. It’s otherworldly. Allow me to gush: there’s no possible way I’m 40 years old and feeling so vividly alive, and my spirit soars like I am 20, as my ears are dazzled by surrounding screams. The experience, after months upon months of hiding indoors, feels like being thrust into another, seemingly impossible realm, celestial and perfect. It is surreal. I don’t have the exact words, so I won’t even try to...

Tomorrow, not played live since 2008, is an atmospheric addition to the set. With its driving tempo and accented guitars, it gives a great sense of how well Alain and Jesse play together. Tomorrow, will It really come? And if it does come? Will I still be human? speaks to me about how time has felt over the past 18 months ... so motionless, wondering if the days would ever even pass. It is divine healing at its best.

Call me morbid, call me pale... Morrissey sings softly, over weaving guitars, with the New York Dolls pouting glamorously on the backdrop behind him. Half a Person, played here on US soil for the first time since 2000, is pure magic: merging sombreness and self-deprecation with a dash of humour, yet clinging to that small flicker of hope that keeps one going. I’m not sure any other artist speaks to that very human experience the way Morrissey does. And the crowds luff him - as he grasps hands, signs records, and fans cry, sing along, scream with excitement. The venue is a rare fireball of life and passion, so far removed from the dismal, distal outside world. Morrissey, in fact, broke records for merchandise sales at Caesar’s Palace on opening night. The press, unfortunately, rarely mentions such triumphs, or these outpourings of love, painting a vulgar picture of untruths.

Love Is On Its Way Out, from I Am Not A Dog On A Chain, is a potent, poignantly relevant number. Never one to admire the 'royals,' Morrissey’s backdrop for the song is a photo of sad rich Prince Harry, who smiles dumbly while holding a rifle over a buffalo he has just killed. Love Is On Its Way Out is a song of few words, masterfully simple yet striking; it laments the pain permeating the world, where our daily news is saturated with death and destruction. The lyrics, sung so smoothly and beautifully, jar with images of suffering : Did you see the headlines? Did you see the grablines? Did you see the nerve gassed children crying? Did you see the sad rich... hunting down, shooting down elephants and lions? How isolating to exist as a sensitive soul in such a toxic world, and yet, deep down, hope for love. Once again, Morrissey captures this condition so purely. “Take time, be mine, and gaze with fondness on the wrong one.”

"Art is not a crime."

September 2nd

While the residency will continue for a total of 5 shows, I must return home after Night 3. For me, this show was very emotional, as it is never easy to say goodbye-for-now, especially in this current world of such uncertainty. “I’m happy just to be here”

How Soon Is Now? opens the set as an adrenaline punch to the chest, and as Morrissey thrashes the stage with his microphone cord, I feel rejuvenated, alive, exorcised. How can I possibly convey what these nights have meant to me, with mere words?  Tonight, he wears a finely tailored navy blue suit, a floral tie, an almond-toned shirt, a beautiful, sparkly bracelet, and the humpback whale pin (my heart <3). His voice is impeccable and the band is fierce, as the night continues with Everyday Is Like Sunday and Irish Blood, English Heart.

Ouija Board’s haunting notes dance like teardrops on spiderwebs, and as he takes my hand during the song, every second of my life feels worth it to get here, to this moment. Now My Heart is Full.

“When you’re finished here tonight, do you scuttle back to the casinos?... I think there were more nos than yesses, which is very sad.” And muted trumpet notes indicate Morrissey’s cover of Melanie’s Some Say I Got Devil, a rich, dark piece of music, so well suited to the one who penned I Am Two People. Dramatic percussion and luxuriously dark piano beguile.  Morrissey's voice captivates, every note blessing the air it meets. Awestruck, as the spotlight falls across his face, I am reminded of seeing him sing this in Canada back in 2019. My heart is in knots in the most beautiful way possible.

You Are The Quarry’s Let Me Kiss You makes a comeback to the setlist – and it’s super-ultra-dreamy (sorry, I can’t help it!) With playful lyric changes like “I’ve heard that you’ll try anyone twice” and a mesmerizing mini-striptease featuring his tie, the live experience is deliciously rapturous. Towards the end of the song, he flings the tie into the audience, which a friend of mine is lucky enough to acquire part of, and we moon giddily over it with glasses of bubbly prosecco after the show.

And then... after Jack The Ripper and “I luff yous”, he disappears into the smoky darkness, out of my sight, yet rooted deeply in my heart.

These shows were everything to me, and I feel so, so lucky to have been able to attend. They reminded me that there is still beauty in the world, that there is still music, art, and life. Yes, the modern world can be, and is perhaps more than ever, an ugly, fearful, isolating place... but we have music, and we have an artist who still has the courage to be himself, speak his mind, and sing his life. And for that, I am so very grateful.

all photos by me unless otherwise credited