A good follow-up to Strangeways (read into that however you see fit).
*buzzzzzz* *boomidty boomidty ba-bak-bak* "Were you and he lovers? And would you say so if you were?" Ya like that screaming riff, Johnny Marr? How 'bout that cowbell?
And so begins Morrissey's solo career. Viva Hate, indeed. Although there were stranger things to come, Morrissey's first album starts out with "Alsatian Cousin", what has got to be one of the single weirdest ways for an album to begin. Especially considering that "Little Man, What Now?" follows it. A couple of songs that, read a certain way, would signal any normal person waving goodbye to sanity. But, since when was Morrissey normal? Exactly. Because the very next song is "Everyday is Like Sunday". Hands down one of the finest songs in his great body of work. And it's absolute gorgeous. On loan from Factory Records, the Durutti Column's Vini Reilly (who has to be co-credited for the greatness of the musical backings on this album) belts out some beautiful riffs and lines alongside Morrissey's rant against nuclear weapons. And on the album goes until the centerpiece drops by to say hello on "Late Night, Maudlin Street." An epic piece of Morrissey nostalgia-meets-one of Vini Reilly's most inspired moments. The song is seven minutes of bliss. The second half continues on a more uptempo-ish note. And while the album does blow its load within the first two-thirds, the last two songs contain rants disguised as ballads, aimed at Morrissey's favorites targets of the time. A brilliant ending to a fascinating album that catches Morrissey at nearly his most vulnerable point (that moment would come a few years later). Hard to see how Smiths fans could dislike this one. But this is (understandably, but regrettably) where a lot of them get off the bus with Morrissey.
~Austin
BONUS TRACKS...
The 1995 British reissue of the album generously offers 8 extra tracks, though not all of them are from the Viva Hate era. Still collects some otherwise unavailable stuff.
Singles and b-sides collection. No wait, don't go anywhere, it's actually rather good.
This thing collects most of the essentials from Morrissey's initial singles issued before and around Viva Hate. It contains a few things found on that album, but for the most part, it serves its purpose surprisingly well. The first half is practically flawless with treats like "Picadilly Palare", "Interesting Drug", "November Spawned a Monster" and "Last of the Famous Internationl Playboys" popping up and finding Morrissey branching out nicely from the all-too-familiar Smiths sound. Virtually every track is a killer and while it is a bit disappointing that a lot of the b-sides from the documented period are absent, the selection here is of high enough quality that that can be overlooked. It stands up really well in its own right as the great "second" Morrissey album that never was.
~Austin
Morrissey goes very blatantly pop.
I mean, he wasn't exactly Merzbow before, but he wasn't quite so blatantly polished as he is here. Besides a few key tracks, Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley give the music a very shiny plastic sheen that immediately dates it (that awful keyboard and wanky guitar intro to "Mute Witness" comes to mind). The one cool thing about the instrumentation on this album is the liberal use of a stand up acoustic bass. On the better tracks, it enhances their overall charm, giving them the classic pop feel of Morrissey's girl group inspirations. Seems like he's not entirely in control of reaching a goal that he may or may not have intended to reach in the first place. A very strange album, to be sure. He's certainly done worse since then, but considering the peaks that surround it, it does seem a bit of a letdown. Not anywhere near the train wreck that revisionism has made it out to be, though.
~Austin
New band, new sound, newly found inspiration.
First of all, even though the music on this EP only clocks in at just under 11 minutes, every Morrissey fan should have it. It features hands down the best band he has ever worked with just getting to know each other and finding out that, HEY we fucking ROCK. Two songs from Kill Uncle get revisited here alongside an airing of a recently released single. Let's go in order. In stark contrast to its bleak ballady album counterpart, "There's a Place in Hell For Me and My Friends" becomes this enormous, riff heavy mid-tempo rocker that does wonders for the song. When that initial riff comes in, you can just imagine Boz Boorer standing on top of a towering mountaintop with the amp turned up to 10, belting that sonuvagun out to the eager valley below. "My Love Life" very closely resembles its studio recording because this was the same band that had recorded it. Still a wonderful rendition even though no surprises occur when compared to the proper single version. The big surprise happens at the end when "Sing Your Life" gets an incredible rockabilly makeover. It's a pretty radical turn into left field for the song, but makes complete sense and works infinitely better than the original arrangement. The version on Kill Uncle sounds like a very sick, very twisted, very bad joke in comparison. And it's not even like that was a bad rendition of the tune. It's just that the version recorded live in the studio for this EP is so perfectly realized and executed. It's one of those songs that's so brainlessly catchy and good, it may seem like a bit of a cliche to actually admit to liking it. But, it seriously makes me want to quit life and become a rock star. It's that fucking good. And Morrissey sounds aboslutely God-like in his vocal performance. He still sounds like himself, but like he's had a few beers and is now ready to take on the world through persuasion. "Sing your life, any fool can think of words that rhyme! Many others do, why don't you? Do ya want to?" Holy crap. And then when that stand up bass kicks in... who doesn't want to sing along? Thankfully, this was just a tease for more greatness to come.
~Austin
The undeniable classic rock and roll album that everyone knew he had in him. Holy crap, it's good.
Immediately, this album stomps out of the gates with a monstrous, noisy riff on "You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side." It's a gratuitous, self-important ("Well, here I am.. you don't need to look so pleased"), absolutely wonderful tune that announces that things have changed since that glossy last album. The guitars buzz and whirl about with a trashy arrogance that would only come from someone obsessed with T. Rex's Electric Warrior (hmm, who could that be?). Mick Ronson supervising from behind the boards certainly had more than a little to do with the fact that, within the first two songs, the record is practically saying, "You know what you think Morrissey sounds like? Well, not only are you wrong, you're stupid for thinking that in the first place." Then comes "We'll Let You Know." Here's what everybody thinks Morrissey sounds like: fucking gorgeous. The album is just littered with incredible songs. Going from ridiculously hard rocking, to gorgeous balladry, to more pseudo-Rockabilly, to classic Morrissey guitar pop and back again. There isn't one unexciting riff or bland melody on the entire thing and it just bubbles over with an amazing life-loving and affirming feeling. The best example is on the beautiful ballads in the second half of the album: the "woe is me" of "Seasick, Yet Still Docked" and the "cheer up, then" of "I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday." Easily the tops of Morrissey's solo catalogue, it puts up a damn fine argument for being the tops of his career, period. Personally, one of my top favorite albums of all time. Just endlessly entertaining, timeless and absolutely fantastic music.
~Austin
That same band rips through Your Arsenal with a not-quite so stunning impact. Still pretty good though.
So, for dorks like me, who obsess over this period in Morrissey's career, this is like a dream come true. The band rips through just about every song on Your Arsenal with the same self-obsessed swagger and then throws in a few favorites from Morrissey's early singles for good measure. They are just top notch through the entire thing. The ballads played are absolutely perfect and for the first time, it feels like Morrissey has found a working band again instead of just being Morrissey in front of some musicians. But, y'know, the bottom line is that it's a live record. And while nerds like me will go on and on about it's importance to the Morrissey catalogue, most folks will do just fine owning Your Arsenal. If you dug that album with a little extra love, then this is heaven for you. Otherwise, it's just a live album.
~Austin
The calm after the storm, so to speak.
It becomes apparent from the opening line of the first song on this album that something is up. "There's gonna be some trouble..." almost whispered over a dreamy cascade of very unmistakenly Johnny Marr-esque guitars. Indeed, this is the calmest and most unthreatening album that Morrissey would ever make. How in the hell did it come only a couple years after his most jugular charging album? An explanation is in order, I suppose. On the tour for Your Arsenal, Morrissey did a lot of flirting with neo-Nazi and ultra conservative imagery. It wasn't until that point that everyone started questioning whether or not he was a racist. Especially the British music press. Back they went through his catalogue to find things like "Bengali in Platforms", "Asian Rut" and obviously "National Front Disco" (which lead to the investigation after Morrissey's performance of the song draped in a Union Jack flag, the British equivelant of a confederate stars'n'bars flag). The clear and most sensible answer here is that Morrissey was simply working with characters and imagery, but like the Beatles nearly losing their career over the "bigger than jesus" thing, it got blown completely out of proportion and context to the point where Morrissey was being hounded. This time not because everyone loved him, but because they all hated him. It was imagery and theatrics, plain and simple. David Bowie did the same thing thing in the 70's and he was able to still have hits. Siouxsie Sioux did much worse ("Too many Jews for my liking...") and was more or less applauded for it. Makes no sense to me, but I'm not British, so I suppose it never will. Anyway, Morrissey felt betrayed. His motivation for making an album that sounded so much like the Smiths can only be speculated upon. But, it seems like, feeling betrayed and hated, he tried to win back his old audience by sounding like what he knew they already loved. It didn't really work in recapturing his audience, but the music created here is just excellent. Calm and moody, it definitely evokes Smiths-esque moments. But it's undeniably Morrissey's show. "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get" is witty and catchy. "Spring-Heeled Jim" and "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning" are dark and theatrical. "Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself" and "I Am Hated for Loving" are melancholy and melodic. "The Lazy Sunbathers" is campy and fun. And then "Speedway" is confessional and just plain epic. As a whole, it feels like the work of someone who knows the end is very near. But it's not down or full of despair. On "I am Hated For Loving" Morrissey speaks with a weary intellect that could only come with age and experience. He wants to be gone, but not forgotten with lyrics like, "All of the rumors keeping me grounded... I never said that they were unfounded." As a whole, it seems like he's creating his one last hurrah with this album. Like he doesn't want to quit, but feels forced into it by his own regrettable actions. That seemed to be confirmed when there was no official tour supoprting the record. His most vulnerable and overall pretty album, it often feels like his best work.
~Austin
Morrissey's prog album. No, honestly.
"There's too many people planning your downfall." Perhaps because he thought Vauxhall & I was a wimpy cop out, Morrissey comes out swinging a little over a year later with his most confounding album yet. The album is bookended by two tracks that are over ten minutes long and they roar and kick up dust like nobody's business with screaming guitar distortion and heavy, chunky backbeats. Morrissey rants and raves about over the tuneless backings and for the first time, even a diehard like me found myself saying, "What the hell is he on about?!" It'd be excusable if the songs in between (which are much more Morrissey-esque) were better, but for the most part, they sound as if Morrissey is just on autopilot. The guitars sound like bad imitations of that crunchy, glammy sound Mick Ronson achieved on Your Arsenal. "The Operation" would be fantastic if it weren't for a completely nonsensical two minute drum solo at the beginning of the song. The second half of the album does do a little better job of making some decent tunes. But, the music here feels like its catering to Morrissey's newly discovered American audience with the big, extra loud guitars and unexplainably self-indulgent technicality. Morrissey sounds so completely frustrated that he can barely stay on subject most times. "To be finished would be a relief" he sings on "The Teachers Are Afraid if the Pupils" and it sounds like he's a little too eager to buy into his own philosophy. I suppose there's much worse music out there, but Morrissey had set the bar a lot higher than this. Just disappointing.
~Austin
More b-sides and fodder. Again, all pretty good.
Perhaps feeling worn down, Morrissey went back to compiling his previously released material. It's sort of like Bona Drag, part two as it compiles highlights of his singles and their b-sides throughout his career. It does inexplicably contain a few songs from Southpaw Grammar, but otherwise it repeats nothing (unless, of course, you already have the singles). Some pretty great stuff appears here: the glistening, classic-sounding singles "Sunny" and "Boxers", a fantastic live cover of T. Rex' "Cosmic Dancer" and the essential b-sides "Girl Least Likely To" and "Michael's Bones." Essential stuff; especially if you missed out on those now-deleted singles.
~Austin
What the hell is the point of this?
More of a mixtape than a real compilation or best of album. I've never really understood it, honestly. It's got a lot of album cuts and previously compiled singles. In fact, that's 85% of its contents. Sure, the selections are good, but they seem pointless. There are few inclusions aimed at completists: the pseudo-Rockabilly single "The Loop", the long version of "Moon River" and the original studio recording of "My Love Life." Are three were previously non-album single tracks and all are very much essential. So, in case you missed out, you can get them easily on this compilation. But, you'll be left sitting through a lot of stuff you're already quite familiar with.
~Austin
Oh dear, where to start...
Although it would appear after the first two tracks as though Morrissey was coming out angry and inspired, making the album that Southpaw Grammar was intended to be, it becomes very clear very quickly that he is just plain angry... again. There are some great songs here ("Alma Matters" is practically his best song and "Trouble Loves Me" is just loveable classic Morrissey) and the band seems to have gotten a grip on its newly discovered crunchy guitar sounds. On the best songs, they work things into a distortiony melodic swirl that would make even (dare I say!) Johnny Marr proud. Otherwise, Morrissey is back on autopilot and sounds like he doesn't care how the music sounds because he's so angry about how much he cares. A silly rant towards former Smiths drummer Mike Joyce pops up on "Sorrow Will Come in the End" and it's the apex of Morrissey's frustration during this period. He sounds so passionate, but everyone knew that he was at least partially in the wrong (Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke obviously deserved more than 10%), so it softens the blow and makes Morrissey look like he's a few dice short of a Yahtzee (well, moreso than usual). He was back to working within four minute song structures, but it seems like he was trying to fit even more into a smaller space. It's a confused and frustrated album that ultimately ends up having the same effect on the listener. This time, he really did quit. Well, making records anyway. Although he kept touring (though noticably sporadically in the UK), it would be seven years until he would release another record.
~Austin
Still angry. But, focused this time.
"America, the land of the free they say. But where the president is never black, female or gay."
And then, he was back. As if he never left, this album starts out with "America is Not the World" and Morrissey has officially found a way to channel his anger into true inspiration. Maybe it was because he had seven years worth of material to choose from, but the writing on this album is his strongest since Vauxhall & I and it's a fine balance between the harder rocking Morrissey of more recent years and the classic Morrissey of ballad crooning and guitar pop friendliness. He's as outspoken as ever with afforementioned "America is Not the World", "I Have Forgiven Jesus" ("For all this desire he placed in me when there's nothing I can do with this desire"), "The World is Full of Crashing Bores ("Lockjawed popstars, thicker than pigshit, nothing to convey. They're so scared to show intelligence, it might smear their lovely career") and "You Know I Couldn't Last" ("CDs, t-shirts, promos... god knows.. you know I couldn't last"). In some ways, this is his most personal and musically diverse work to date. The production is way too glossy and decidedly keyboard-oriented, but that is just a minor complaint when the material is as strong as it is here. Frankly, this could be looked at as a career defining comeback album of sorts because it definitely soars and goes for the grand victory. But, I'd like to look at it as just the next Morrissey album. And, while it may not be the triumphant return it was intended to be, it's a welcome return, to say the least.
~Austin
DELUXED EDITION...
A little under a year after the album was initially released, a two disc version of the album was released compiling a few live performances on a DVD portion and most of the b-sides that were released on the audio portion (there were three British only b-sides that were conveniently left off). All of the b-sides are fantastic and play like another entire album altogether. Highlights include "Munich Air Disaster 1958", "Mexico", "Friday Mourning" and "I am Two People." Very much worthwhile.
Taking a victory lap around his homeland.
This live album catches the same band that recorded You Are the Quarry on their UK tour and its unique because Morrissey had started incorporating Smiths songs back into his setlists after years of disregarding them. Here you get some of their best, played competantly, with "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" and "How Soon is Now?" A good portion of You Are the Quarry sees performance along with some old favorites and a couple of then very recent b-sides thrown in. Overall, it has a very triumphant feel. Hearing the crowd go crazy at the opening of "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" almost feels like redemption and a belated victory announcement after over ten years of misunderstandings and overreactions. Although it's a live album, it's an exceptional one and it's hard to imagine any Morrissey fan not absolutely loving it.
~Austin
Correction: this is his most personal album to date.
Far and away the most personal thing Morrissey has ever produced. Also, his most honest work to date. When he says, "I am walking through Rome with my heart on a string" he is speaking in very literal terms. After the success of You Are the Quarry, he finally got the hell out of Los Angeles, took up temporary residence in Rome and fell very much in love. It seems corny to say it, but this is clearly the happiest Morrissey has ever been during his recording career. He was so head over heels that the legendary Tony Visconti was brought in to produce the record. And Morrissey's T. Rex fixation is allowed to run wild on highlights like "You Have Killed Me" (hands down one of the best single he's ever released), "The Father Who Must Be Killed" and "In the Future When All's Well." When he's not toying with characters, he's pouring his heart out. And, being the thoughtful bloke that he is, he questions his newly found affection several times over on the previously mentioned "You Have Killed Me" and the album's centerpiece "Life is a Pigsty." But, he always ends up deciding he's tortured himself by being alone long enough. "I am so very tired of doing the 'right' thing" he confesses in "Dear God, Please Help Me." Indeed. The songs, as before are all superbly written and played. The arrangements are sometimes a little heavy handed, but Tony Visconti is hardly a novice when it comes to such things. So, although the brass section on "I Just Want to See the Boy Happy" may be a little overbearing, it's far from intrusive or detrimental to the bigger picture. Ennio Morricone was also brought aboard to do arrangements for a couple tunes and they are among the best on the album. You know the guy must be in love if he was able to scoff at the pretty penny it must've taken to bring such a high profile guest into the project. The album followed You Are the Quarry by a little less than two years, which may suggest that Morrissey was striking while the iron was still hot. But, judging by the swift change in attitude, it seems more like a case of inspiration hitting very quickly. He definitely switches to autopilot a few times on this record, but this time he's not on autopilot out of frustration; he's there out of pure content, which is a big difference. You Are the Quarry might be the overall better album of these later records, but this one is exponentially more intense.
~Austin
I've consumed much more than I can hold. This is very clear to you.
