Morrissey, "You Are The Quarry"
Manchester's favorite son makes the world safe for moping again
It's safe to say that you either love or hate this guy. There are people out there (some of them I know personally) who would give their right arm for a front-row seat at a Morrissey show, rushing the stage, hugging him and probably giving him a bouquet of flowers. Consequently there are also people who will see the image above this paragraph and roll their eyes in frustration. "Not him again..."
While I wouldn't sacrifice any limbs or rush any stages in his honor, I have to say in all honesty that I'm a pretty big fan. I loved the Smiths when I was in high school and began buying all the full-length solo albums, starting with the wonderful "Viva Hate" in 1988.
Morrissey's solo career has had an interesting trajectory: "Viva Hate" won critical raves and was a smash with the fans; 1991's "Kill Uncle" was a true sophomore slump, getting so-so reviews and containing, in my opinion, about three decent songs; 1992's "Your Arsenal" was a bright, vibrant, glam/rockabilly return to form; and 1994's moody "Vauxhall and I" was a brilliant exercise in dynamics.
After that, things get hazy for me. I passed on the two follow-up albums, "Southpaw Grammar" and "Maladjusted," mainly due to the bad reviews and indifference from even the most hardcore fans. Had the Moz' music really run its course?
It's amazing what seven years can do to a guy. That's how long it's been since "Maladjusted" limped onto the music scene. Since then, Morrissey moved to California, went a little grey around those ever-present sideburns, and generally stayed off the radar. That is, until now. "You Are The Quarry" is Moz in the New Millennium.
Has he learned anything in those seven years? Not that I can tell, if the music is any indication. In other words, if you like Morrissey, you'll love this album. This is him, pulling no punches and making no compromises. The day the album was released (this Tuesday), I asked Dave, our music supervisor at Borders, what "You Are The Quarry" sounded like (I had yet to hear it myself). "It sounds like Morrissey," he explained. Nothing wrong with that!
The old piss and vinegar is intact, and comes out immediately. Really. The album's first song, "America is Not the World" starts with the line, "America, your head is too big." The staunch vegetarian also adds that the U.S. not only invented the hamburger, but also suggests a place where they can stick the invention. So much for mellowing with age.
Alan Whyte and Boz Boorer, guitarists and co-songwriters who've been with Morrissey for about 15 years, provide fresh, vital instrumentation, complete with chiming guitars and occasional crunchy distortion. Keyboards are also a bit more in the mix than past albums, but never to a distracting degree. There's some slight nods to current technology, but it all fits.
Piano and strings even come out for "Come Back to Camden," a beautiful, sentimental love letter to England that shows that you can take Moz out of England, but not England out of the Moz. "Under slate-grey Victorian skies," Morrissey croons, and it's a quintessential Morrissey line. Without the sarcasm.
Jabs at self-loving celebrity airheads are certainly welcome in this age of Britney Spears and reality television, and they get their due in "The World Is Full of Crashing Bores," which has great lyrics, but is made even better by the anthemic, almost majestic quality of the music. Oh, and have I mentioned that Morrissey's voice sounds better than ever?
If you're looking for a new Morrissey, one who may have given up on being bitter or sarcastic (or coming up with song titles like "I Have Forgiven Jesus"), you won't find a new guy here. It's the one you know and love (or hate). But with a few new suits in the closet.
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