I’ve always wanted
to visit Italy – and ever since becoming a Morrissey fan – this
desire has increased even more so. In the mid-2000’s, one of my favourite Morrissey records: Ringleader of the
Tormentors, was recorded in Rome, so when I learned that Moz and
the band are back there and appear to be recording a new album, my
excitement began to crescendo.
We don't have truly old buildings where I live (not the kind of old you'd find in Europe, anyway), so mere photographic glimpses of the beautiful, intricate architecture and art found in Rome feels romantic, and exotic (well, at least to me). As a University student, I even studied Italian language (let's just say this was errr... some time ago), and while I've naturally forgotten nearly everything I learned, I remember it being a poetic language that I lamentably stumbled over grammatically at times.
I'd adore feeling surrounded by such history - this atmosphere of centuries of sonnets and paintings - centuries of muses, passions, and unrequited love - would be so dramatic and romantic. I'd certainly love to visit the Sistine Chapel, the Spanish Steps, lush fountains, hushed museums... Oh, but who am I kidding - the first place I'd check out is Pizzeria La Montecarlo...
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| Via 8stitches9lives on Instagram |
There have been some fantastic photos appearing on Twitter and Instagram of fans meeting Morrissey in Rome. Here are just a few:
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| "Always meet your heroes" via seang2012 on Instagram |
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| via @manuSsn on Twitter |
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| Via mozzerie_dean and Matteo Contigliozzi |
I am SO living vicariously through the lucky people in Rome right now... but at least where I live we do have ducklings. I feel I've become a bit of a part-time duck mum (or possibly nanny) as I go check on them. I've even named one of them Spooksy, after a run-in with a repugnant retiree and her off-leash dog. Thankfully, since then I haven't seen the woman, who wrongly believed her little lap dog chasing after wildlife was "nature taking care of itself." While she yapped more than her dog, I gently held the canine back and Spooksy got away unscathed, but I don't know why I'm calling him Spooksy, because he's brave and full of gusto every time I've seen him. In fact, in the following weeks, I can definitely say he's been the gutsiest guy at the pond.
I also had a scare with Moogly, the pet spider living on my window ledge for 8 months. One evening, I entered the room and at fear of sounding too graphic, let's just say it appeared Moogly had split in half... I had no idea I could grow so attached to a spider, or perhaps it's because the image was so traumatic, but I freaked out. Luckily, it turned out Moogly was undergoing a natural process called molting, where spiders basically rip their own skeletons off to grow. This was news to me; humans don't do cool stuff like this!
The molting process, also known as ecdysis, is actually quite strenuous, and when spiders first shed their old exoskeletons, they are extremely vulnerable; the change leaves them initially delicate before they externally harden once again. Therefore, if anything touches or disturbs them, they can be damaged very easily. This metamorphosis seems metaphoric for emotional times in life: when we are in a fragile state emotionally, often during a painful growth process, a lack of emotional armour leaves us in a place where we can be hurt more easily than usual. It takes us a while to feel strong again and negativity that ravages us in these times can affect us deeply. On the other hand, unlike the molting spider, it's also possible we can be reached more profoundly than usual in a way that may help us - perhaps through the kindness of others, or perhaps through art.
You never really forget the songs that saved your life, so imagine, like those magnificently fortunate people in Rome these past few weeks, if you had the opportunity to meet Morrissey.
Can you imagine it? What would you say? How do you think it would feel?
Dickie Felton's book, The Day I Met Morrissey, can give you a window into this momentous experience: http://dickiefelton.com/books/the-day-i-met-morrissey/
The Day I Met Morrissey
Dickie Felton
Printfine Ltd, Liverpool
2009
I was lucky enough to receive two of Dickie's books, The Day I Met Morrissey and Morrissey International Airport in the mail last month. I've just finished reading The Day I Met Morrissey and it's a tremendous read: it feels just like pulling up a chair, grabbing a pint and having a personal chat with each of the lucky fans who share their story within its pages. It's a glimpse into a moment where time stops: a taste and a touch of how it feels to meet your hero... and from these stories our hero sounds like an often-witty, ever-charming, kind, even humble and slightly shy man. Yes, while god-like, Morrissey is a human being, so building up expectations can be a tricky business (especially at time-limited events like signings, etc.) but I can honestly say after reading Dickie's book that it's clear Moz truly does care for us - and you can't help but feel touched by these interactions.
Published in 2009, The Day I Met Morrissey is 100 pages in length, and consists of interviews with Morrissey fans conducted by Felton over the two previous years. The format is slightly larger than a typical paperback to accommodate the numerous glossy photos within - and yes, a promise of loads of full-colour pictures picks up the pulse-rate of many a starry-eyed Moz admirer or collector.
Without giving too much away, the book begins with Felton's own experiences - from his initial discovery of Morrissey and the Smiths in 1988, thanks to his ripped-stockinged, spiky-haired punk rock neighbour, through to his first concert experiences in the UK during the 1990's. He continues in captivating storyteller form, describing the times he actually manages to meet Morrissey, including adventures such as travelling across oceans to catch some tour dates in far-off places. Dickie even accomplishes snagging the holy grail of tattoos, which is - of course - Morrissey's sprawling signature scrawled across the arm, hand signed.
The book's following 30 chapters are sorted chronologically, and our journey begins in 1985 at a Wilmslow train station with a shy, shaking sixteen year old and her mum. One thing I noticed right away is that Dickie includes a "Then-and-Now" inset with a short update of each lucky storyteller's current life; it's clear how Morrissey impacts the devoted to this day - which shows us how the songs that saved our lives are never really forgotten - and stay engraved in our hearts and minds.
Snapshots in time flash by and leave us hungrily turning the pages for more as chance meetings at fragrance counters, hotels, and second-hand bookshops give us glimpses of what Morrissey - the man - is like to meet on the street. Sometimes it's mere moments, while others have the luxury of full-on conversations. As Morrissey's home base switches from UK to LA, there are some brilliant tales from The Cat And Fiddle and Sweetzer Avenue. Snippets of Mozzer's wit shine through, as he urges one fan to "get back into" cardigans, or shares his view on the current state of music: "most bands are crap".
Another aspect of the book I absolutely enjoyed was learning the stories behind some photos I recognize from over the years: from Morrissey crooning while holding up a little girl wearing pink bows in her hair, to a playful backstage pile up with a group of fans. You, the reader, might even recognize some familiar faces from shows you've attended yourself.
Dickie does a tremendous job of compiling and telling the stories in The Day I Met Morrissey, and I feel I will keep coming back to this book every time I crave a taste of what it could be like to meet our hero. For anyone who truly knows how it feels to be a Morrissey admirer, Felton conveys the essence of Moz fan-love - and quite beautifully - I think the book also captures a sense of how much we mean to Moz too.
I'm not sure I've ever heard of another artist who treats their fans with such kindness and gratitude as Morrissey, whether it be in face-to-face meetings, or from the stage itself. Late to the party as always, the first Morrissey concert DVD I ever watched was 25 Live, and I was completely transfixed by his interaction with his audience, accepting presents and letters; it truly felt like an actual, mutual, and lovely correspondence- he didn't just perform like many other artists do. After watching, I remember feeling somewhat emotionally overwhelmed, but in a good way, maybe akin to a sense of catharsis. And this was simply after witnessing it all on my television screen; then when you're there in person... well you know the rest...
I've read that Morrissey sees it this way too: "the audience doesn't realize this but, I, in effect, come to see them, and my temperament depends on how they react and even how they look. I sing directly at the audience, and I look right into the audience - few singers do, I've noticed. I am addressing them with each line, and they react - one way or another - as if we are in conversation." Further, Morrissey has expressed he doesn't even like the word 'fan,' perhaps finding it a bit demeaning, and according to Mozipedia, he prefers calling us his audience, or in Smiths days, "apostles." Perhaps it's because at heart Morrissey is a music lover too - and understands the immense impact a band can have on your entire existence, particularly when this music shows up at certain times of growth, pain, or anything else that's particularly pivotal. Maybe this is why one of my favourite photos of Mozzer is him standing at the rail at a New York Dolls concert in Dublin:
Speaking of being late to the party, before I leave off, I'll share with you a poll I posted on Twitter the other week, asking my followers when they first discovered Morrissey. Admittedly, I feel a large degree of envy towards those who found him so much sooner in life than I did, yet I'm also interested in the phenomenon of fans who, like me, discovered him at a more... advanced age. I wonder if certain aspects of my life right now might be different if I had come across him sooner, and I really mean that, because I find his music, his words - have helped me understand myself - and life - more fully. That said, he came into my life at a very emotionally turbulent time, so in a sense, even though I found him at the tender age of 33 - yes - I did, in fact, grow up with him.
Here are a few of my favourite write-in responses to this poll:
"Late 20's w/ the Smiths, early 30's Solo. BUT I NEVER HEARD LYRICS BACK THEN. Rediscovered Moz 2 years ago and it has made my life!" - Pat M
"I was 15 (nearly 16) when I was captivated, nay mesmerised, by Everyday Is Like Sunday in Nineteen Eighty-Hate. It changed my life!" - Angie J Cooke (author of The World Of The Smiths And Morrissey)
"However old you are - it doesn't matter - our life is enriched for finding him at all." - Andy R
This takes me back to the featurettes in Dickie's book, updating where these fans from the 80's and 90's are now. At the core, kind of like Moogly the molting spider - we are the same underneath; music, and especially lyrics, never really leave you.
Thank You, Morrissey.
 |
| Spooksy: "A very brave bird" |
I also had a scare with Moogly, the pet spider living on my window ledge for 8 months. One evening, I entered the room and at fear of sounding too graphic, let's just say it appeared Moogly had split in half... I had no idea I could grow so attached to a spider, or perhaps it's because the image was so traumatic, but I freaked out. Luckily, it turned out Moogly was undergoing a natural process called molting, where spiders basically rip their own skeletons off to grow. This was news to me; humans don't do cool stuff like this!
The molting process, also known as ecdysis, is actually quite strenuous, and when spiders first shed their old exoskeletons, they are extremely vulnerable; the change leaves them initially delicate before they externally harden once again. Therefore, if anything touches or disturbs them, they can be damaged very easily. This metamorphosis seems metaphoric for emotional times in life: when we are in a fragile state emotionally, often during a painful growth process, a lack of emotional armour leaves us in a place where we can be hurt more easily than usual. It takes us a while to feel strong again and negativity that ravages us in these times can affect us deeply. On the other hand, unlike the molting spider, it's also possible we can be reached more profoundly than usual in a way that may help us - perhaps through the kindness of others, or perhaps through art.
You never really forget the songs that saved your life, so imagine, like those magnificently fortunate people in Rome these past few weeks, if you had the opportunity to meet Morrissey.
Can you imagine it? What would you say? How do you think it would feel?
Dickie Felton's book, The Day I Met Morrissey, can give you a window into this momentous experience: http://dickiefelton.com/books/the-day-i-met-morrissey/
The Day I Met Morrissey
Dickie Felton
Printfine Ltd, Liverpool
2009
 |
| Dickie presenting Morrissey with a copy of The Day I Met Morrissey |
I was lucky enough to receive two of Dickie's books, The Day I Met Morrissey and Morrissey International Airport in the mail last month. I've just finished reading The Day I Met Morrissey and it's a tremendous read: it feels just like pulling up a chair, grabbing a pint and having a personal chat with each of the lucky fans who share their story within its pages. It's a glimpse into a moment where time stops: a taste and a touch of how it feels to meet your hero... and from these stories our hero sounds like an often-witty, ever-charming, kind, even humble and slightly shy man. Yes, while god-like, Morrissey is a human being, so building up expectations can be a tricky business (especially at time-limited events like signings, etc.) but I can honestly say after reading Dickie's book that it's clear Moz truly does care for us - and you can't help but feel touched by these interactions.
Published in 2009, The Day I Met Morrissey is 100 pages in length, and consists of interviews with Morrissey fans conducted by Felton over the two previous years. The format is slightly larger than a typical paperback to accommodate the numerous glossy photos within - and yes, a promise of loads of full-colour pictures picks up the pulse-rate of many a starry-eyed Moz admirer or collector.
Without giving too much away, the book begins with Felton's own experiences - from his initial discovery of Morrissey and the Smiths in 1988, thanks to his ripped-stockinged, spiky-haired punk rock neighbour, through to his first concert experiences in the UK during the 1990's. He continues in captivating storyteller form, describing the times he actually manages to meet Morrissey, including adventures such as travelling across oceans to catch some tour dates in far-off places. Dickie even accomplishes snagging the holy grail of tattoos, which is - of course - Morrissey's sprawling signature scrawled across the arm, hand signed.
The book's following 30 chapters are sorted chronologically, and our journey begins in 1985 at a Wilmslow train station with a shy, shaking sixteen year old and her mum. One thing I noticed right away is that Dickie includes a "Then-and-Now" inset with a short update of each lucky storyteller's current life; it's clear how Morrissey impacts the devoted to this day - which shows us how the songs that saved our lives are never really forgotten - and stay engraved in our hearts and minds.
 |
| Fan Kenny meeting Moz outside his home in Hollywood |
Snapshots in time flash by and leave us hungrily turning the pages for more as chance meetings at fragrance counters, hotels, and second-hand bookshops give us glimpses of what Morrissey - the man - is like to meet on the street. Sometimes it's mere moments, while others have the luxury of full-on conversations. As Morrissey's home base switches from UK to LA, there are some brilliant tales from The Cat And Fiddle and Sweetzer Avenue. Snippets of Mozzer's wit shine through, as he urges one fan to "get back into" cardigans, or shares his view on the current state of music: "most bands are crap".
Another aspect of the book I absolutely enjoyed was learning the stories behind some photos I recognize from over the years: from Morrissey crooning while holding up a little girl wearing pink bows in her hair, to a playful backstage pile up with a group of fans. You, the reader, might even recognize some familiar faces from shows you've attended yourself.
 |
| Young fan Winter with Moz on stage in Atlanta |
 |
| Meeting Morrissey backstage in Tel Aviv |
Dickie does a tremendous job of compiling and telling the stories in The Day I Met Morrissey, and I feel I will keep coming back to this book every time I crave a taste of what it could be like to meet our hero. For anyone who truly knows how it feels to be a Morrissey admirer, Felton conveys the essence of Moz fan-love - and quite beautifully - I think the book also captures a sense of how much we mean to Moz too.
I'm not sure I've ever heard of another artist who treats their fans with such kindness and gratitude as Morrissey, whether it be in face-to-face meetings, or from the stage itself. Late to the party as always, the first Morrissey concert DVD I ever watched was 25 Live, and I was completely transfixed by his interaction with his audience, accepting presents and letters; it truly felt like an actual, mutual, and lovely correspondence- he didn't just perform like many other artists do. After watching, I remember feeling somewhat emotionally overwhelmed, but in a good way, maybe akin to a sense of catharsis. And this was simply after witnessing it all on my television screen; then when you're there in person... well you know the rest...
I've read that Morrissey sees it this way too: "the audience doesn't realize this but, I, in effect, come to see them, and my temperament depends on how they react and even how they look. I sing directly at the audience, and I look right into the audience - few singers do, I've noticed. I am addressing them with each line, and they react - one way or another - as if we are in conversation." Further, Morrissey has expressed he doesn't even like the word 'fan,' perhaps finding it a bit demeaning, and according to Mozipedia, he prefers calling us his audience, or in Smiths days, "apostles." Perhaps it's because at heart Morrissey is a music lover too - and understands the immense impact a band can have on your entire existence, particularly when this music shows up at certain times of growth, pain, or anything else that's particularly pivotal. Maybe this is why one of my favourite photos of Mozzer is him standing at the rail at a New York Dolls concert in Dublin:
Speaking of being late to the party, before I leave off, I'll share with you a poll I posted on Twitter the other week, asking my followers when they first discovered Morrissey. Admittedly, I feel a large degree of envy towards those who found him so much sooner in life than I did, yet I'm also interested in the phenomenon of fans who, like me, discovered him at a more... advanced age. I wonder if certain aspects of my life right now might be different if I had come across him sooner, and I really mean that, because I find his music, his words - have helped me understand myself - and life - more fully. That said, he came into my life at a very emotionally turbulent time, so in a sense, even though I found him at the tender age of 33 - yes - I did, in fact, grow up with him.
Here are a few of my favourite write-in responses to this poll:
"Late 20's w/ the Smiths, early 30's Solo. BUT I NEVER HEARD LYRICS BACK THEN. Rediscovered Moz 2 years ago and it has made my life!" - Pat M
"I was 15 (nearly 16) when I was captivated, nay mesmerised, by Everyday Is Like Sunday in Nineteen Eighty-Hate. It changed my life!" - Angie J Cooke (author of The World Of The Smiths And Morrissey)
"However old you are - it doesn't matter - our life is enriched for finding him at all." - Andy R
This takes me back to the featurettes in Dickie's book, updating where these fans from the 80's and 90's are now. At the core, kind of like Moogly the molting spider - we are the same underneath; music, and especially lyrics, never really leave you.
Thank You, Morrissey.
