'I want to move away from those who stare at screens all day.'
I come back from church bearing daffodils, What better moment to listen to the new Morrissey album Make Up Is a Lie. So I fix myself a cup of tea. Take a seat at my desk . And off we go.
He's certainly in fine voice the incorrigible old ham. The album has been written off as self pitying , Come on folks this is Morrissey. What were you expecting ? Altruism? It's only the second track and he's off to Paris to the garret of the poet apparently.
He seems to have a bee in his bonnet about his right to spout nonsense and be outraged. About the fire at Notre Dame now which he implies is an inflammation that was not accident. Shock ! Horror! I think he might be implying that it might just be something slightly more sinister.
Is he Still Ill. It seems the jury may still be out ! Where is your punctured bicycle on 'that hillside desolate' prey Stephen Patrick ! Kindly stick to what you know
He's actually in rude form vocally but looking for outrage as ever and his is not a flag that I'd choose to align myself behind anymore. Hand In Glove maybe but not this bunch of old cobblers.. What Morrissey lacks is clearly what he's lacked since 1986. Johnny Marr.
There's an uninspired cover of Roxy's Amazona coming round the bend next . Discerning listeners are referred to the original. This is pallid at best. I skip the guitar histrionics and move on to Headache which promptly gives me one... apart from the line 'with this headache I thee wed!' which makes me laugh. But,. Next !!!
Boulevard takes its time. Morrissey can still pen a good line and knows it. He throws up in an icy bathroom just off said boulevard. Oh please. No, that's no good either !
What Morrissey does, he does better than anyone else. But let's face it he's done it much better than he does it here. 'We have the stars!' Mozza wails. You're welcome to them pal ! We want The Smiths !!!
Four songs left and I'm not flinching. But my hopes aren't high. Kerching, Kerching is negligible stuff about saving the hedgehog. A little boy who only thinks about joy. Oh. It's another vegetarian thing. Is it Meat Is Murder. No I'm afraid it isn't !!!
Lester Bangs. My ears prick up. I love Lester Bangs. But the lyrics aren't up to much. And the tune's a dirge. 'So sad for the universe!' You said it Mozza..
Many Icebergs Below. Morrissey's Down The Ten Bells with his quill. Are we done yet. We must be done. Morrissey is sinking merlots and awaiting Rousseau. This is truly rolling out the barrel so you can scrape it with a runcible spoon !
Make Up Is A Lie brings down the curtain with The Monsters of Pig Alley. It's reasonably poignant. Morrissey has at least saved the best until last. It's the most likeable thing here. Almost elegaic.
But in short this is a pretty dreadful album trading on the man's name and former glories. Morrissey is never a man to be entirely written off. Hard as he tries himself.. He's trying incredibly hard here. I think I should put these daffodils in water.
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