Oh, Manchester, So Much To Answer For

anyone who thinks the smiths left on a low note with "strangeways, here we come" is a fool. just listen to the introduction of "last night I dreamt that somebody loved me": the sampled screams, johnny marr's late night maudlin piano chords, and then suddenly - skronk! - the guitars gatecrash the proceedings, mike joyce begins bashing his snare, and morrissey opens his golden throat, giving voice to legions of disillusioned lovers the world over ("so tell me how long before the right one?," he pleads). "I won't share you" is the indie equivalent of "do you really want to hurt me," though boy george's voice, soulful as it may be, can't contain the pathos the mozzer does. musically, "unhappy birthday" could nearly be r.e.m. - can't you just hear those guitar lines coming through buck's rickenbacher? except for the mournful curls of sound at the end of the chorus, of course (those are pure marr, and one of the smiths' defining traits). more to come on this phenomenal album after I get home.