Thursday, September 05, 2002
back to "strangeways": I'll grant you that "paint a vulgar picture," while somewhat witty, is the sound of mozzer beating a dead horse he'd later become a bit too familiar with, but then subtlety hasn't necessarily been his greatest strength. "I won't share you" (again) is a triumph. there's a reason he was tagged "morose-y."
side one is even better - these were the days of albums, remember, and they had 2 sides. "a rush and a push and the land is ours," with its roadhouse piano and eerie opening lyric fading in to the mix ("I am the ghost of troubled Joe"), is a sterling opener, proving both that the smiths felt they still had something to prove and that (as they knew the end was nigh) they weren't going quietly. you can hear all over the record that it was morrissey/marr's last will and testament; you could even take the title "I started something I couldn't finish" as pro forma proof, as the mancunians didn't die, but faded away (and still radiate, natch). "started something" starts with a grinding guitar lick from marr and adds a kitchen-sink drum part from mike joyce, leading eventually into a vocal unlike any morrissey'd put to vinyl before: listen to the way he growlingly leans into the line "that's what tradition means" in the second verse. he does it again in the third verse, but not so much chutzpah. and at the end of that verse, moz's "seems... fair enough!" sounds almost flip, as if the shackles were off and he could finally let loose (this bore fruit more on his solo viva hate the next year).
"death of a disco dancer," featuring piano by morrissey himself, is a perfect segue from the side's first two tracks to its latter two. marr spends the first two verses ekeing scraping noises out of his guitar, sounding nearly proto-'90s sonic youth (but not quite). as ever, the lyrics are not entirely a triumph, but include one of moz's pithiest lines ("love, peace and harmony/very nice, very nice, very nice/maybe in the next world"). after some very noel gallagher-esque strumming through the bulk of the song, marr starts playing ever more dissonant lines as the song reaches its climax, and then suddenly stops. like that.
the song following, "girlfriend in a coma," briefly got the smiths on mtv during primetime hours (I believe as a "buzz clip"), and is one of their classic pop songs. short and to the point - well, whatever point there is, exactly. but a fine single nonetheless, leading us to one of their alltime towering achievements, "stop me if you think you've heard this one before." a true wall of sound washes over the listener from the first notes, layers upon layers of marr's guitar setting the scene for a tour de force vocal performance by morrissey, pleading, nearly crying, begging, all atop a chugging bo diddley beat (he and chuck berry were always marr's major touchstones).
side one is even better - these were the days of albums, remember, and they had 2 sides. "a rush and a push and the land is ours," with its roadhouse piano and eerie opening lyric fading in to the mix ("I am the ghost of troubled Joe"), is a sterling opener, proving both that the smiths felt they still had something to prove and that (as they knew the end was nigh) they weren't going quietly. you can hear all over the record that it was morrissey/marr's last will and testament; you could even take the title "I started something I couldn't finish" as pro forma proof, as the mancunians didn't die, but faded away (and still radiate, natch). "started something" starts with a grinding guitar lick from marr and adds a kitchen-sink drum part from mike joyce, leading eventually into a vocal unlike any morrissey'd put to vinyl before: listen to the way he growlingly leans into the line "that's what tradition means" in the second verse. he does it again in the third verse, but not so much chutzpah. and at the end of that verse, moz's "seems... fair enough!" sounds almost flip, as if the shackles were off and he could finally let loose (this bore fruit more on his solo viva hate the next year).
"death of a disco dancer," featuring piano by morrissey himself, is a perfect segue from the side's first two tracks to its latter two. marr spends the first two verses ekeing scraping noises out of his guitar, sounding nearly proto-'90s sonic youth (but not quite). as ever, the lyrics are not entirely a triumph, but include one of moz's pithiest lines ("love, peace and harmony/very nice, very nice, very nice/maybe in the next world"). after some very noel gallagher-esque strumming through the bulk of the song, marr starts playing ever more dissonant lines as the song reaches its climax, and then suddenly stops. like that.
the song following, "girlfriend in a coma," briefly got the smiths on mtv during primetime hours (I believe as a "buzz clip"), and is one of their classic pop songs. short and to the point - well, whatever point there is, exactly. but a fine single nonetheless, leading us to one of their alltime towering achievements, "stop me if you think you've heard this one before." a true wall of sound washes over the listener from the first notes, layers upon layers of marr's guitar setting the scene for a tour de force vocal performance by morrissey, pleading, nearly crying, begging, all atop a chugging bo diddley beat (he and chuck berry were always marr's major touchstones).
# posted by Thomas : 3:45 PM
