Good Looking Man About Tour

As I get ready to fly down to the US early next week, I thought I'd write a short update about the tour so far. I've been refreshing social media like mad, glued to the rectangular device that connects me to the world, hungry for snippets of film and audio from Morrissey's Fall Tour with Interpol. Luckily, some of my friends are already in attendance and have been kind enough to send me photos and video clips of our good looking Moz about town as he takes on North Eastern US, and now the Midwest.

photo by basia_ana

I'm happy to discover I finally have some quiet at home, as I'm currently no longer languishing under a  cement-soled family of 6, and am hoping the new upstairs tenants will be a little less trying. Needless to say, I feel a tad more refreshed to work on some blogging, and start packing... which is always a challenge as I tend not to pack light. My emotions and nerves are all over the place, and I just want to be present on the tour. I was hoping to attend some of the earlier shows, but am starting out with a Texas road trip, and for this West Coast Canadian, parts of Texas smack of virtually another planet, as one passes billboard after billboard slathered with Jesus and guns.

Now, let's get down to some Moz fashion updates from the tour!

Moz looking dashing on tour
Photo by basia_ana

Morrissey exudes style - he absolutely breathes it; from his iconic profile he is instantly recognizable. While getting better with age, he is simultaneously ageless. You can tell he puts a great deal of thought into his incredible style, yet he carries looks with ease: from the cut of his jackets, to his well-picked accessories. I am always excited to see what he will wear next: will it be a dapper suit, a charming cardigan, a smashing shirt?  My heart is aflutter!

In a recent interview, Morrissey shared some words about style:

(In reference to Bruce Lee, while talking to SER)... "Style. I said many years ago about never having seen a bad photograph of James Dean. Some people just ARE style. I know you feel the same way about Marilyn Monroe, which is also true. It wasn't possible to photograph her unflatteringly. Style is just there within certain people without anyone needing to point it out... Anne Sexton was another."

Anne Sexton

Sam: 
would you say this is true of you?

Morrissey: 
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

(Yes, I counted the number of O's!)

(Via Morrissey Central, A Lark's Tongue In April )

He is so modest, and maybe a liiiittle cheeky, as we all know he always looks fantastic! I think Morrissey is indeed one of these people who personifies style ... right down to the weave of his cardigan sleeve.

So far, this tour seems to be all about the suits, and Morrissey (and his bandmates) have been stepping out with some dashing looks.  In Maryland, Mozzer, with slightly longer locks, wore a sleek, classic black suit and a white shirt, making the look unique by adding some lapel pins and rosaries. Very handsome devil!

photo by basia_ana

In Queens, at Forest Hills Stadium, Moz rocked a sparkly forest green shirt/jacket (the top slightly reminiscent of a denim jacket cut) with matching trousers. Never one to shy away from shine and sparkle, he pulled it off masterfully.  For the encore, he switched out the glittery top for a merch tee featuring Coronation Street's Elsie Tanner, (complete with ducks), which he customized by cutting the neckline to a v, paired with a suit jacket.

Photo by @kayichi

Photo by Sacha Lecca

In Camden, New Jersey, Moz wore a black suit again, but mixed it up with an orange dress shirt and striped tie (the retro-feel colour palette is very autumn orchard fruits!), changing to a light blazer and yellow Bruce Lee tee for the encore.

Photo by mnemz22

Photo by @bruja_galaxia_

For last night's show, in Ohio, Morrissey brought back the beautiful Alexander McQueen jacket we saw in darker colours during the Spring tour, this time in a pale blue with red and white embroidery: I am loving the darling birds!

Ohio photo by basia_ana

Broadway photo by @sadglamour

Setlists for the tour are also looking fantastic, including a number of songs from California Son and Low In High School Deluxe that have never been sung live, and rarities that haven't been played in years. Here are some highlights I've gathered from the setlists and video clips:

- Never Again Will I Be A Twin (debut)
- Some Say (I Got Devil) (debut)
- Lady Willpower (debut)
- Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself (first time since 2009)
- Satan Rejected My Soul (first time since 1997)
- You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side (first time since 2007)
- I Am Hated For Loving (first time since 2000)

I am hoping Some Say I Got Devil appears in the set at some of the gigs I'm going to, and I have a feeling it's going to make me cry in the loveliest way possible. Along with Morning Starship and Suffer The Little Children, Some Say I Got Devil is one of my favourites from California Son: it is raw emotion and beauty. I've missed Morrissey and my friends so much, as I haven't seen everyone since Broadway, so thank you to all for the updates!

I'll leave you with my favourite quote from Morrissey's recent interview from Morrissey Central:

"You know my life, I haven't ever been married, and once I feed the birds, the foxes and the badgers then my day is over. I'm unlikely to ever be married to anything except bird-seed."

A big day for Franz the crow
as he finds a muffin

UPDATE:

Morrissey wore a dashing vest tonight in Rochester Hills, Michigan, and this might just be my next favourite look after my beloved cardigans as he looks VERY handsome devil <3 Gorgeous!

Thanks to basia_ana once again for the gorgeous pics!

California Son Shines - A Review

This week, I am immeasurably excited to find myself basking in a rare pocket of silence at my place, so I thought I’d take this time to work on a bit of writing I’ve been meaning to undertake for over a month now. Let’s rewind back to May, which to me feels like about three eternities ago. On May 24^th, two days after his 60^th birthday, Morrissey released his twelfth solo studio album, California Son. An eclectic mix of songs from the 60’s and 70’s, California Son is a departure for Morrissey in that it is an entire album of covers, ranging from protest songs to love ballads. While one of the strongest factors that draws me towards Morrissey is his own lyrics, it is riveting to get a window into his influences, as well as his unique interpretations of their music.

As a listener, it is somewhat understandable to delve into cover albums with a certain degree of skepticism, as historically, some artists have undertaken such ventures with lacklustre results. There is also the conundrum of how to make a song that is over 40 years old sound fresh and desirable to the 21^st century ear, whilst staying true to the original. Further, there is the inevitable game of comparisons by critics and fans alike: between cover songs and the artist’s original catalogue, or between the original artist’s and the cover artist’s renditions. In this sense, I think recording a covers album is a brave, bold undertaking.

During the release week of California Son, I was still dreamily chest-deep in penning my concert experiences from Morrissey’s Canadian Tour dates and Broadway Residency, so did not feel ready to begin reviewing the album. Needless to say, my ravenous ears were eager to listen as soon as the record was released, but I did not spend my free time reading professional reviews from music mags and rags, and thus, I feel rather untainted by the opinions or even language usage of others. Good.

New York Dolls videos often make the pre-show playlist
Source: YouTube

Anyone who has attended a Morrissey concert is aware that the man is a true music lover; it runs in his veins. Before each show reels a set of videos, hand picked by Moz himself, featuring some of his early influences, as well as newer artists who have captured his attention. Snippets of crackling black and white film, 70’s colour-strobed glamour and snarl, and spellbinding artistic rarities fill the screen and build anticipation, or... perhaps more accurately, an orientation into the church of Moz. Undeniably, Morrissey has incredibly good taste, and the artists he chooses typically boast unique musical flavour and compelling aesthetics. And this might just be why Morrissey was meant to do a covers album, and also why he does such a good job of it: he is a lifelong, ardent music fan.

A Review of California Son:

Ethereal chords evoke dawn’s earliest rays, which makes Morning Starship the perfect album opener. Originally recorded in 1973 by glamorous alien Jobriath, Morning Starship swells with romance, futuristic elements, and mystical lyricism. Tragically ahead of his time, high-drama and high-cheekboned Jobriath did not fit into the confining dictations of 70’s music industry execs, but he did capture the attention of a young Morrissey, who has been a fan since his early teens. Now, over 40 years later, Morrissey has honoured Jobriath’s Morning Starship, staying true to the core of the original, while updating its sound for 2019. The result is otherworldly, with Morrissey’s sensual, velvet-smooth vocals and his band’s sparkling instrumentals. Certain nuances make the song more Moz-like, with slight handsome-devil lyric changes: “you might as well sit down, and stay awhile” and a “boom, boom, boom” at the end. Morrissey’s vocals slightly soften Jobriath’s US twang, and guitars are updated from distinct seventies-ness, but both versions charm in their own right, as Moz introduces a whole new generation to the dramatic magic of Jobriath, whose debut album made his recent “Buy these today or drop dead list”.

Morrissey singing Morning Starship during his recent
sold out Broadway residency

California Son continues with four folk and protest songs. Joni Mitchell’s Don’t Interrupt The Sorrow is the record’s second track, and a marriage between Mitchell’s folksy style with Morrissey’s silky, crooning voice may seem unusual on the surface, but it functions quite beautifully. On California Son, Don’t Interrupt The Sorrow’s opening chords are warm and round as big juicy apples, and Morrissey phrases Mitchell’s imagery-rich words in smooth waves. The lyrical content exudes female struggle in a ‘man’s world,’ describing the “wind of change” against patriarchal notions of femininity deeply rooted in religion and tradition.

While writing, out of curiosity, I thought I’d take a peek at Morrissey’s 1997 interview with Mitchell for Rolling Stone: Melancholy Meets the Infinite Sadness (that title!) and soon felt my head implode as Mitchell stated “I’m not a real feminist,” and I realized that my interpretation of the song may well be off the mark, or perhaps not... must every song be confessional? Sure enough, on further browsing, I learned Mitchell has eschewed feminism in other interviews, seeing it as too divisive, and that this was nothing new. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn her opinion is also related to rejecting labels, but I found this tidbit of information interesting not only because of the contrastingly feminist lyrics of the song, but because it readjusted my previous assumption that Mitchell is a feminist. While I don’t necessarily agree with her views, I find it gutsy she speaks her mind, even when it deviates from that very rigid set of liberal expectations we seem to project on the personal opinions of artists.

Morrissey and Joni Mitchell
Source: Sonicmoremusic.com

Following Don’t Interrupt the Sorrow is Bob Dylan’s Only a Pawn In Their Game, a 1963 protest song about the assassination of Medgar Evers, a civil rights activist from Mississippi. Dylan covers are always interesting in that he has such distinct, talk-singing vocals, making his pieces uniquely Dylan-esque. Morrissey, who is more of a natural singer, smooths the lyrical phrasing in his cover, yet still retains the storytelling style of the original song. On California Son, Only a Pawn in Their Game’s instrumentals feature Matt Walker’s military-sharp snare drums and Jesse Tobias’ slide guitar, and especially in the chorus, Morrissey’s voice takes on a superhuman, instrumental quality of its own, reminiscent of a majestic organ or bagpipes. While Dylan’s song is over 50 years old, it resonates with the current political climate in the United States, where racial divisiveness continues to be used by politicians to distract the MAGA-hat wearing poor from wealth-favouring corruption.

Fourth album track is Buffy Sainte-Marie cover, Suffer The Little Children, one of the most vibrant pieces on the album. It’s easy to see how the song appealed to Morrissey, who considered school a crushing experience, and the lyrics follow a similar thematic vein to The Headmaster Ritual; school is a soulless, identity-stripping drill. Morrissey again successfully adapts the folk song, originally sung on 1969’s Illuminations with Sainte-Marie’s unmistakable tremolo voice, to fit his own vocal style, and the results and arrangement are dazzling. New Orleans’ flavoured pianos and bold tuba flourishes keep the quicker-tempoed piece roaring along. Next up is Phil Ochs’ warning-weaved protest song, Days of Decision, which rounds out this well-selected run of folk music, and Morrissey stays close to the soft power of the original. “Do what’s right or you can do what you are told” stands in the mind as words to consider.

Morrissey with Buffy Sainte-Marie
via @BuffySteMarie on Twitter

At this point on the record, California Son steers more towards love-themed songs. Morrissey’s cover of Roy Orbison’s It’s Over is a vocal triumph, and he captures the romantic, mournful essence of the original, phrasing delicate wisps of vibrato that make weeping rainbows come to life. Like Orbison, Morrissey’s voice can at once exude vulnerability and power, moulding a broken heart through waves of sound. Surf-tinged guitar accents and echoing percussion provide sun-setting lovelorn atmosphere, and LP’s operatic soprano adds lush dimension.

Laura Nyro’s Wedding Bell Blues provides uptempo fun, in spite of the rather unfortunate state of the song’s protagonist, who is clearly losing patience with Bill’s reluctance to seal the marriage deal: Oh, Bill. The pairing of a vivacious piano with Morrissey’s swoon-worthy voice is delightful, and Green Day’s fittingly-named Billie-Joe Armstrong provides backing vocals (much to the delight of my ever-existent teenage self, who was a big Green Day fan!) The outro showcases Morrissey’s impressive upper vocal range. On Dionne Warwick’s Loneliness Remembers What Happiness Forgets, Morrissey stays true to the 1970 original with sublime sadness-etched vocals and a simple strings arrangement. It is apparent what a major influence vocal powerhouses like Warwick and Orbison have had on Morrissey. Timelessness attracts timelessness.

Morrissey with Billie Joe in 2018
with thanks to photographer

The next track is Gary Puckett and the Union Gap’s 1968 single Lady Willpower, a lusty ultimatum directed at a shy lover. Morrissey’s vocals are compelling yet gentle, complimented by lively brass, and the addition of Jesse Tobias’ guitar outro updates the song from the original version’s chorus fade-out. Lady Willpower will be released as a single on August 23rd, with b-side Rainbow Valley (originally recorded in 1968 by The Love Affair. The meaning behind California Son's 10th song, Carly Simon’s When You Close Your Eyes, is perplexing (at least to me) – is it about daydreaming, drugs, disappointing relationships? However, while the lyrics mystify, Morrissey’s vocals lend a dreamy mood, at times gliding into the heavens. Backing vocals also add unearthly atmosphere, and special credits are given to “Little Willie” the dog, who barks on the intro. Out of interest, “White Lorelei” may refer to the folkloric tale of an enchanting siren who lures and distracts sailors to crash their ships – perhaps being not half as magic as she seems from afar.

The second-to-last track on California Son, Lenny’s Tune, was written and performed by Tim Hardin, and also Nico, with the slightly altered title, Eulogy To Lenny Bruce. Possibly the most haunting, melancholic song on the album, Lenny’s Tune tells the tale of comedian Lenny Bruce, who died in 1966 from a morphine overdose. Musically dark, and opening with echoing footsteps and faint birdsong, the piece is quite minimalistic, featuring piano, upright bass, and mandolin: power in simplicity. Morrissey’s voice conveys the weary reflectiveness of grief, particularly the strange, complex regret surrounding loss due to addiction, and one feels emotionally transported.

Lenny Bruce arrested via Biography.com

Lenny Bruce was an undeniably fascinating figure who had a massive impact on the meaning of, and rights surrounding “free speech.” In 1964, Bruce was arrested for obscenity, as law enforcement and church officials deemed the content in his stand-up routine could lead to “corruption of morals of youth and others.” In spite of an anti-censorship and artistic freedom petition signed by numerous artists and celebrities, including James Baldwin and Bob Dylan, and a trial with support from psychologists and literary critics, Bruce lost and was sentenced to four months in prison. While Bruce succumbed to his addiction only two years later, his legacy has lived on through other comedians such as Richard Pryor and George Carlin, who continued to push barriers on censorship. Lenny Bruce is considered by many a “free speech martyr,” and he was pardoned posthumously in 2003. In 2019, overbearing obsession with political correctness may threaten free speech yet again.

Melanie, with pigeon friends
with thanks to photographer

California Son closes with Morrissey’s cover of Melanie’s 1971 folk song Some Say I Got Devil. I consider it one of the strongest tracks on the album, an exclamation point ending swelling with darkness and beauty. As with Lenny’s Tune, the instrumental is fairly minimal, and in such pieces, silences themselves also become key instruments. Leyin’s and Manzur’s muted trumpets are funerary, downcast, and Tobias’ Ebow guitar haunts, evocative of a dark, lurking orchestra. Rather than a traditional solo section, the piece erupts, or rather falls into a frenzy of darkened notes mirroring the confusion of an emotional breakdown... and then, with an emergent simple piano, the calm that seems to always follow chaos. The lyrics describe two sides to a person, particularly the perception of the person by others, a Gemini juxtaposition of angel and devil: I Am Two People. Morrissey’s voice is hauntingly beautiful, at points even ripping at the heart with aching, reflective sadness “and all the things that I have seen, can be hidden in a part of my dreams...” These 4 minutes close the album with the contrasting opinions that have followed Morrissey throughout his entire career: some say he’s got devil, some say he’s got angel.

7 nights: A Review of Morrissey's Residency on Broadway

That last stretch to 46^th street always zoomed by like a race: turning right out of the subway, and another right up a blackened walkway, to the tap tap of concrete steps on 42^nd street. 7 times. Up into rain-smattered early evening light, weaving past endless people: monochromatic business guys and snail’s paced tourists staring at phone screens, staring at 10-story-high screens. Tanned limbed girls and boys wear stars-and-stripes thongs and grotesque green statues of liberty sway on stilts; bright colours against sooty skyscrapers. I suppose this all spells endless distraction if you are so inclined; however, extroverted Times Square is very Americana and far too overwhelming for a Canadian girl from a small town. But that’s okay because I’m here for something else.

7 times weaving past far too many people. And then, on that final left turn onto 46^th, the air around that corner always rushes like the silk of the finish line, and my heart stutters a bit, as I am met with 4 Morrisseys looking out from the facade of the Lunt-Fontanne theatre. Suddenly, everything else disappears.

This is my first real trip to New York. Sure, I had been there for 2 nights in 2017, but this time it will be 2 weeks. I will even learn how to semi-navigate the subways, and strangely, for this claustrophic germophobic nearly everything phobic, I begin to like them: cooing at fat grey rats on the tracks from the grime of the platform, and, as for the ride – my favourite part is when the train turns a bit, squawking metal on metal, and sparks fly. I can’t pretend to be, in any capacity, a “New Yorker,” but I’m not entirely useless.

My first night in Manhattan I meet a guy selling records at a street stall, mostly weird rare jazz stuff in silky filthy plastic sleeves ... I would linger, but people, yet again, overwhelm. I get a lot of, “you’re not from around here, are you”s and soon end up back in my friends apartment, looking out at a skyline that previously existed only in movies. I am alone, the only sounds incessant honking and Imagine playing on a distant piano ... a little too surreal. New Yorkers, or those who can face driving in the city, seem to express their angst through their car horns: not just one long honk, but in triplets and quintuplets.

The next day, I walk into a cafe and New York, New York starts playing, and I really began to wonder if I am in a movie. Yellow taxis crawl up streets bumper-to-bumper, and black fire escapes snake up the sides of decaying buildings like spider’s legs. That night, we go to a Patti Smith gig and a diner that looks like something out of Seinfeld.

And then... May 2^nd arrives: Morrissey’s opening night on Broadway. What will it be like? When I think Broadway, I think a chorus of girls with Carol Channing lips dancing in glittering top hats, but surely not... and maybe a lot of rich people. Will they make us stay in our seats... at a Morrissey concert?

We line up early, along with international playboygirls from Japan, the UK, Mexico, Belgium. New Yorkers are there too, of course. The atmosphere buzzes. Built in 1910, the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre features Beaux-Arts stylings: gargoyles and arched windows, and most certainly, lashings of glamorous golden lights. Tickets scanned in, we are then herded into the lobby, impatiently waiting on jewel-toned carpets to race down to the orchestra. The Broadway merch is classy and cool, mostly black, but I try to keep my purse-strings tightened because everything in Manhattan costs a small fortune, and I’m already languishing under the dismal Canadian exchange rate. There’s a drink called Hairdresser On Fireball that tastes like cinnamon candy hearts, and a few shows in, when I’m the right amount of nervous, I’ll get one. But tonight, I’m 100% present, in the moment, and relishing that pre-gig mix of excitement and jitters that feels like a combination of first date and final game of the playoffs, and yet somehow, far beyond this or any other description.

7 times we rush down stairs into the orchestra pit at Lunt-Fontanne, and wait, under the glowing teardrops of chandeliers, for Morrissey to take the stage. The theatre’s stage is closest to the audience at the sides, with centre barrier stretching a half-moon ocean to Morrissey’s microphone. Such a far gap makes stage-climbing seem unlikely, and towards the centre, handshakes would also require extra agility, or extremely long arms. Between the stage and front row there is no existing solid floor, only a black ropy net stretched over beams, underneath which lies a possibly 15-foot drop. I gingerly press my foot through the black fabric of the barrier and see it gives way, and the area below is soon littered with drinks, a purse, and a likely ill-fated iphone. Freaky.

I find this all a bit of a thrill, and clutch my Playbill, my eyes dancing from pre show video to pre show video. And then... after Rebel Rebel, the moment arrives... and we meet again. No one is in their seats, well at least no one around me, and the audience cheers, as Morrissey walks up to the microphone, wearing a black sequined peacock jacket, a Morrissey merch tee (cut at the neck), and dark wash jeans.

“There is a light that never goes out... on Broadway” he croons.

The first song of opening night pours through the theatre like liquid gold, and That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore brings cathartic sparkle, soothing the soul and captivating the heart. The healing opener draws us in lovingly, followed by uptempo Suedehead, which whips us, with a microphone cord, into a frenzy. Set design exudes vintage Hollywood, featuring massive 1940’s-style camera flash bulbs shining various colours (unversed in such matters, I initially think these are giant metal parasols, but awe-inspiring, nonetheless). At times, trios of lights spread like fans, basking Morrissey in ethereal blue.

“The roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd,” he quips.

Setlists span remarkable decades, yet always embrace in-the-moment themes, indicating the timelessness of Morrissey’s art. Alma Matters is an ode to living life on your own terms, If You Don’t Like Me, Don’t Look At Me is a succinct “get lost” to the haters, and I Wish You Lonely muses on existential bleakness. And... as if our emotions aren’t already overpouring, unrequited love pummels us to the core for the encore, with the painful, earnest longing of Let Me Kiss You. My heart is open to you...

6 more times. Wow.

I am now staying in Brooklyn between shows, enticed by its slightly slower pace and a pair of very cuddly cats, peaches and cream-grey Grettel and black with pink toes Minuit. Non-stop purrs lure me to spend the day in bed, but I do make it out around noon a few times to explore Brooklyn’s brownstone-lined streets and even take in a Frida Kahlo exhibit, as brushstrokes take on new, textured life in person.

And every time, no matter how humid or hectic, that rush hour subway ride back to Broadway throbs with tip-of-the-tongue, almost there magic. In fact, in a strange way, this nightly penance intensifies my joy, as do the beaming, disjointed rides ‘home’... to Brooklyn.

Before and after gigs, fans wait alongside Lunt-Fontanne’s stage doors for Morrissey to arrive and depart. Some hold black markers, hoping to have their Playbills, albums, or own skin signed. If you time it right, you just might see him slip into the venue, and if you time it even better, he may stop to say hello. Celebratory cheers welcome him as he arrives, and I wonder if one ever gets used to such a thing, and what range of emotions it inspires. I love that he is loved... the truth exists in action, and I see it with my own eyes every night. Meanwhile, the clickbait-mad out of tune British press continues to be obsessively cruel to him, and I hope that the reception first in Canada, and then on Broadway, at least somewhat eases the pain of that.

Night 2

Setlists continue to sparkle, as Morrissey’s voice is stronger than ever, at once both smooth and passionate, and the band is ultra on-point for slow, pensive pieces and vibrant faster-paced ones alike. California Son covers dazzle, inspiring even headier anticipation for the album’s May 24^th release, and one night, Morrissey brings a vinyl on stage, showing the front cover, back cover: “I’m Me, Not Meat. Go Vegan,” and inner sleeve.

I believe the setlists are also strong because Morrissey’s music appeals to both current events of the external world, and to the constantly churning internal world of the human spirit: covering everything from how to avoid the dismal clutches of the media and tedious bosses: Spent The Day In Bed, to experiencing the impermeable, aching loneliness of rejected love: Seasick Yet Still Docked. And... who else has ever openly sung that all-encompassing truth: Life Is A Pigsty... and this is one of many reasons why we luff you, Morrissey.

Night 3

Night 5

Every night transports us to a different dimension, and every night is unique.

Small, precious details make the live experience otherworldly, to be woven into the fabric of your heart for life: and I wish I could remember even more than my ever-slipping memory can grasp, to relive every facet in its entirety, but even when memories begin to fade, the feeling can never be lost. I cling to Morrissey’s words between songs, from the profound to humorous, to the profoundly humorous. One night, he changes the lyrics to How Soon Is Now? to blend with Half A Person... six long years chasing your tail... and it is spellbinding.

“What Would You Do If You Weren’t Afraid?” asks the backdrop in stark white font, for Dial A Cliche. The question sticks with me... and I use the song’s lyrical wisdom to hold me through some difficult times on my return to Canada... and I again remember, that I’m never really alone.

What Would You Do If You Weren't Afraid?

On Friday, during What She Said, I prop myself up, my hips against the barrier... the stage seems unreachably far away, as I am near the centre of front row.  And then... Morrissey is looking at me, reaching towards me for a handshake. Can I make it? I balance my left hand onto that black netting pulled over the abyss down below, and stretch myself to the very tips of my left toes, an ungraceful ballerina ... and a sharp, hardening pain tells me a leg cramp is imminent, but I look into his bluest eyes and the pain entirely dissolves, and our hands meet. In that moment, I wouldn’t trade places with anyone else on this earth.

Closing night arrives and the entire theatre throbs with spectacular energy. Opening with the swaggering riffs of The Last Of The Famous International Playboys, we are treated to another stellar set and Broadway is on fire. I feel so jubilant but also, inside, I am beginning to wilt, as I never wanted this time to end... and saying goodbye til next tour is never easy. At any given moment, I could cry, or my heart could soar... are there any borders to emotion? I think this is what it feels like to fully live. And I’ve done it, 7 times here at the Lunt-Fontanne.

Night 7

“Take it from me. Life passes by in the blink of an eye. So the question is, what the hell are you going to do with your blink”?

Boz and Jesse stand behind Morrissey, facing each other, intricately weaving guitar notes...the lights glow like golden moons... and then... Morrissey sings softly, “I won’t share you...” for the first time ever, live.

“The press in England say really disgusting things about me to such a degree and such a consistency that I think they actually have a crush on me... and they just can’t stop... but anything they say and all the horrible things that they continue to say... you , this week have made it all worthwhile, I’m so grateful to you”

Tears flow. And then... one more Broadway encore: First Of The Gang To Die. Morrissey rips his shirt off, throws it into the crowd, and disappears into the Manhattan night.

Outside, the rain falls hard... and for the last of 7 nights, I look up at the sign outside the Lunt-Fontanne.

‘Til next time.

#teamsnuggles