Morrissey: This Charming Man
Morrissey, the former resident of Manchester, England, who first became widely known as a singer with The Smiths (crooning wry, woeful songs that he wrote with Johnny Marr), and who later established himself as a one-off star in his own right, appeared onstage at the Roseland Theater in Portland on November 30, 2009. His performance, which I attended with my wife (who happens to be an especially ardent fan of the gloomy Mancunian), offered ample evidence that, even in middle age, Steven Patrick Morrissey continues to be a compelling figure of singular, uncompromising appeal.
When The Smiths (comprising Morrissey, Johnny Marr on guitar, Andy Rourke on bass, and Mike Joyce on drums) were at the shining peak of their melancholy power in the middle of the 1980s, they were widely acknowledged as one of the greatest bands of their time, and Morrissey was deservedly renowned as the sullen voice of awkward youth. Hundreds of thousands of his young listeners, all disconsolately wallowing in the delicious piteousness of their private misery, eagerly looked to him for bleak inspiration. It is, therefore, quite difficult to think of him moving onward in age, settling into his middle years.
After The Smiths broke up in 1987, Morrissey soon went forward without them, and since then he has been writing, singing, and performing in a style that is completely his own. It can be stated, truthfully and thankfully, that Morrissey has never shown the slightest sign of turning mellow as he gets older. Although he makes no pretense of being a young man, the playful sting of his tart personality appears to have remained gloriously intact. Year after year, and decade after decade, he continues to revel in his own contrariness, continues to stare down the world, continues to be a bitter, moody, and outspoken character. In short, Morrissey continues to be Morrissey.
In Portland, Morrissey sauntered out to a wild reception from the crowd, charging into "This Charming Man." The British singer kept to a speedy pace throughout the show, moving quickly from one song to another, drawing heavily from his latest release, Swords, a collection of b-sides. He also included songs from You Are the Quarry ("Irish Blood, English Heart," "The World Is Full of Crashing Bores," "First of the Gang to Die") and Years of Refusal ("Black Cloud," "When Last I Spoke to Carol," "One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell," "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris," "I'm OK by Myself"), as well as tunes from The Smiths ("Death at One's Elbow," "Ask," "Is It Really So Strange?" "Cemetry Gates," "How Soon Is Now?").
It must be acknowledged that Morrissey is no longer the slender eccentric with formidable hair who became famous for his habit of waving flowers while performing and his frequent expressions of enmity toward Margaret Thatcher. At the age of fifty, Morrissey's waistline has expanded and his hairline has retreated, but his voice retains its dour strength, and his mordant personality remains as distinctive as ever. He clearly delights in being adored by his fans (several people handed gifts to him when he came to the front of the stage), and he has not lost his skill in making offhand comments. When a young woman in the audience shouted out, "I love you, Morrissey," the singer deftly replied, "It will pass."
The musicians behind Morrissey, taking their direction from Boz Boorer on guitar, were tightly united in their collective abilities, allowing them to create a musical setting that was as fast and as sharp as Morrissey's wit. Morrissey and his songs are, admittedly, not for everyone. It seems that one either enjoys his darkly humorous observations of life (as my wife and I do), or one does not. However, for those of us who have no compunction in regarding Morrissey as one of the greatest performers and songwriters of his generation, he is nothing less than a musical treasure.
When The Smiths (comprising Morrissey, Johnny Marr on guitar, Andy Rourke on bass, and Mike Joyce on drums) were at the shining peak of their melancholy power in the middle of the 1980s, they were widely acknowledged as one of the greatest bands of their time, and Morrissey was deservedly renowned as the sullen voice of awkward youth. Hundreds of thousands of his young listeners, all disconsolately wallowing in the delicious piteousness of their private misery, eagerly looked to him for bleak inspiration. It is, therefore, quite difficult to think of him moving onward in age, settling into his middle years.
After The Smiths broke up in 1987, Morrissey soon went forward without them, and since then he has been writing, singing, and performing in a style that is completely his own. It can be stated, truthfully and thankfully, that Morrissey has never shown the slightest sign of turning mellow as he gets older. Although he makes no pretense of being a young man, the playful sting of his tart personality appears to have remained gloriously intact. Year after year, and decade after decade, he continues to revel in his own contrariness, continues to stare down the world, continues to be a bitter, moody, and outspoken character. In short, Morrissey continues to be Morrissey.
In Portland, Morrissey sauntered out to a wild reception from the crowd, charging into "This Charming Man." The British singer kept to a speedy pace throughout the show, moving quickly from one song to another, drawing heavily from his latest release, Swords, a collection of b-sides. He also included songs from You Are the Quarry ("Irish Blood, English Heart," "The World Is Full of Crashing Bores," "First of the Gang to Die") and Years of Refusal ("Black Cloud," "When Last I Spoke to Carol," "One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell," "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris," "I'm OK by Myself"), as well as tunes from The Smiths ("Death at One's Elbow," "Ask," "Is It Really So Strange?" "Cemetry Gates," "How Soon Is Now?").
It must be acknowledged that Morrissey is no longer the slender eccentric with formidable hair who became famous for his habit of waving flowers while performing and his frequent expressions of enmity toward Margaret Thatcher. At the age of fifty, Morrissey's waistline has expanded and his hairline has retreated, but his voice retains its dour strength, and his mordant personality remains as distinctive as ever. He clearly delights in being adored by his fans (several people handed gifts to him when he came to the front of the stage), and he has not lost his skill in making offhand comments. When a young woman in the audience shouted out, "I love you, Morrissey," the singer deftly replied, "It will pass."
The musicians behind Morrissey, taking their direction from Boz Boorer on guitar, were tightly united in their collective abilities, allowing them to create a musical setting that was as fast and as sharp as Morrissey's wit. Morrissey and his songs are, admittedly, not for everyone. It seems that one either enjoys his darkly humorous observations of life (as my wife and I do), or one does not. However, for those of us who have no compunction in regarding Morrissey as one of the greatest performers and songwriters of his generation, he is nothing less than a musical treasure.