Nobody Loves Us #6: Black-Eyed Susan

Well hello once again, Moz fans!

It's a bit of a time crunch here at the Nobody Loves Us Countdown, but I promise I will get to all 20 songs before Monday's show down at The Orpheum.  Be sure to stay tuned to the Twin Cities blog Newest Industry where I'll post a playlist of all 20 songs in order over the weekend.

Now, however, the countdown marches...er... downward?  Sure, downward.

If you haven't been following along, here's how the list looks so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home
18. Munich Air Disaster 1958
17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked
16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me
15. Sister I'm A Poet
14. On The Streets I Ran
13. There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends
12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?
11. Come Back To Camden
10. Disappointed
09. I've Changed My Plea To Guilty
08. Break Up The Family
07. We'll Let You Know

And so here we are at #6:

#6. Black-Eyed Susan (Morrissey/Whyte)



B-Side from the Sunny single

Key Lyrics: "Black-eyed Susan, please remember... We were the first. We were the first."

A true lost classic from Morrissey's wilderness years, "Black-Eyed Susan" finds Morrissey at his most charismatically loathing, drawing a sketch of a woman with "heavy rings on bitten fingers..."

Oddly, or maybe expectedly, Morrissey's concern with his own legacy was reaching a feverish pitch in 1995.  With the success of Vauxhall & I well in the rearview and Southpaw Grammar failing to gain much traction, it's understandable that Mozzer would find himself simultaneously looking both to the sides and to the past.

Both "Black-Eyed Susan" and "Heir Apparent" (another b-side of the same era) ring as the distant echoes of the young man who was all-too-keenly aware of his fanbase in "Rubber Ring."  While their was a certain romanticism to the Morrissey of the late '80's.  "Don't forget the songs that made you cry and the songs that saved your life..." was all the the singer was asking of his fans.  He knew they'd outgrow the emotions that he never could.

Well, the passing of times and all of its sickening crimes left middle-aged Morrissey in quite a different state.  The titular character of "Black-Eyed Susan" (the "black-eyed referring to makeup rather than a punch up) seems to be a young Smiths fan grown up into her own stardom (and, according to Mozzer, took many cues from his own career to get there).  What we really find with "Black-Eyed Susan" is the portrait of a man mired in his own persecution complex, a complex that would find it's logical, if cliched, end point with tracks like, "You Know I Couldn't Last" and "All You Need Is Me" a decade later.

Over a poppy, enjoyable Alain Whyte tune Mozzer lays bare the traits that he knows all too well.  He sees his celibacy-controversy-baiting self ("What don't you believe in? 'No is always easier than yes!'"), the soapbox assuredness ("You must insist: You are a born again atheist..."), hell, even the blouse-and-flower sporting, fashion-eschewing spotlight monger ("Oh, heavy rings on bitten fingers...") before finally admonishing the starlet's talents entirely with the line, "Oh... Black-Eyed Susan, rest and do nothing, 'cause it's the only thing that you do quite well..."

However, taking into account the bizarre musical excursion of the third verse, it remains tough to tell if Morrissey is genuinely mocking the latest NME craze or if he's merely pointing out what seems obvious only to him.  One last jealousy-laden knife makes his sincerity clear: "Black-Eyed Susan, please remember: We were the first, we were the first..."

Nobody Loves Us #8: Break Up The Family

Oh, hello again everybody.  Welcome back to the Nobody Loves Us Countdown.

If you don't know, I've been counting down my 20 favorite Mozzer non-singles each weekday until his concert on the 29th down at The Orpheum.  Unfortunately, the countdown was derailed last week thanks to technical difficulties, other blogging obligations, and a bout of bad health.

As it stands, two of those three problems have been resolved.  The computer seems to be running relatively smoothly again.  All the things that needed to be posted on Newest Industry were posted. Sadly, I'm still sick as a dog.  Frreal.

Yet, the blog marches on.  Here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home
18. Munich Air Disaster 1958
17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked
16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me
15. Sister I'm A Poet
14. On The Streets I Ran
13. There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends
12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?
11. Come Back To Camden
10. Disappointed
09. I've Changed My Plea To Guilty

And so here we are, on to #8:


#8. Break Up The Family (Morrissey/Street)

From the album Viva Hate.

 

Key Line: "I'm so glad to grow older, to move away from those younger years... I'm in love for the first time and I don't feel bad..." 

It's nearly impossible to listen to Viva Hate without hearing references to the then-recent break up of The Smiths.  Songs like, "Angel, Angel Down We Go Together" and "I Don't Mind If You Forget Me" could hardly be about anything else.

Which brings us to "Break Up The Family."  On first glance, it seems that this song must be about the band.  Morrissey has claimed over the years that this is not the case.  He insists that the song is tied to the splitting of a group of youthful friends from his boyhood days.  In theory, I suppose, this is believable.  However, I'm choosing not to believe it.

To me, it seems that this song was written in the aftermath of the breakup of the band in one of those rare, lucid moments when emotions are removed from the equation and the practicality of ending the relationship becomes apparent.  We've all reached that place after the end of serious relationships, haven't we?  We're all familiar with that moment when the clouds break (however momentarily), bitterness is removed, and the "big picture" suddenly emerges.  Not completely unlike the hypothetical conversation between man & country that I brought up in my "Come Back To Camden" post, we find Mozzer in this place the first time around, wishing his former "family" the best and asking only that they return the favor.

When Morrissey sings the line, "I'm so glad to grow older, to move away from those awful times..." he toes the line between celebration and bitterness in exquisite fashion.  It's no secret that, outside of the actual recording and performing, the business of being in "The Smiths" had taken its toll on everybody. When he comes to the line, "Let me see all my old friends, let me put my arms around them... Now, does that sound mad," it seems that he's referring to his former bandmates as people and friends.  Essentially, he's stating that the breakup of the band had nothing to do with any personal animosity.  That they are still his friends, but that it's also time to "grow older."

Musically, Stephen Street crafted an "unexpectedly funky" track.  To this day, "Break Up The Family" still stands out among the rest of Viva Hate largely on the strength of the instrumentation.  Cleverly, Street fills out the sound with Mozzer's vocal inflections drifting in and out of the mix, a trick that would be used repeatedly by various Morrissey producers for years to come.

Honestly, and this is strictly personal, "Break Up The Family" can be used as a barometer to gauge just how passionate a Mozzer fan a person is.  It's a track that definitely rewards repeated listens, especially in the context of the LP being played in its entirety. When somebody claims they are a Morrissey fan, ask them what their favorite song on Viva Hate is.  If they answer anything but "Break Up The Family," be immediately skeptical.

Nobody Loves Us #9: I've Changed My Plea To Guilty

Hello again, Mozzer fans.  I told you I'd be back today.  As you can see from the post below, it's been a busy day.

For those of you just joining us, I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each and every weekday until the Mozfather's show at The Orpheum on the 29th.  Here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home
18. Munich Air Disaster 1958
17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked
16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me
15. Sister I'm A Poet
14. On The Streets I Ran
13. There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends
12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?
11. Come Back To Camden
10. Disappointed

Take a second to scroll down and see my thoughts on those tracks.

So, now here we are at #9.

#9. I've Changed My Plea To Guilty (Morrissey/Nevin)

B-Side from the My Love Life single.

Key Line: "Something I have learned... If there's one thing in life I've observed... It's that everybody's got somebody..."

Returning to the same sparse structure that brought them so much success with "There's A Place In Hell For My And My Friends," Morrissey and Mark Nevin use only a piano and few found sounds to craft a b-side that is far superior to its accompanying a-side.

"I've Changed My Plea To Guilty" can easily be read as one of Morrissey's more clear statements regarding the constant homeseuxal/heterosexual/"fourth sex" rumours that followed the man from day one.  I don't mean to jump to conclusions, but it's nearly impossible to read lines like, "Freedom is wasted on me, see how your rules spoil the game..." without hearing a commentary on his own sexuality.  That's to say nothing of Mozzer's famous fandom regarding Oscar Wilde, himself "convicted" of homosexuality and sentenced to banishment in Gaol.

It's important to note, of course, that Morrissey never admits guilt.  In fact, the song opens with the line, "I'm standing in the dock with my innocent hand on my heart..."  As he has since day one, Morrissey's playing coy.  He's not guilty, he's merely tired of fighting, and taking a plea deal.

Regardless of the sexual overtones, "I've Changed My Plea To Guilty" stands as one of the great lost Morrissey tracks simply for it's vocal performance.  Rarely has Morrissey managed to sound both so self-assured and so vulnerable.  I can't think of another singer who could swing the pendulum back and forth within just one song quite so well.  Truly, no other singer in pop history could pull off a line like, "Outside there is pain, emotional air raids exhausted my heart, and it's safer to be inside..."

Two quick sidenotes about this track before I go:

Sidnote 1: On the version of the song that appears on the My Love Life single, Nevin opens the song with the piano and some muffled sounds.  According to Simon Goddard, one of those sounds is the voice of Nevin's friend, a waitress named Suzy Solan speaking into a dictaphone.  Why do I bring this up?  Because Ms. Solan was from Minneapolis!  As far as I can tell, this is the only Minnesota connection I've found anywhere in The Smiths/Morrissey catalog.  How you go so hard, MPLS?


Sidenote 2:  I'd always kind of liked this song, but I'd never had it ranked very highly on my list of "Great Mozzer Tracks."  This oversight became blindingly obvious after seeing Morrissey perform the song on the Ringleader Of The Tormentors tour.  Remember earlier when I mentioned that "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" lost something in the "full-band" treatment?  The opposite is true for "I've Changed My Plea To Guilty."  Have a look at the video above and you'll know just what I mean.

Nobody Loves Us #10: Disappointed

Hello again, everybody and welcome to the Nobody Loves Us Countdown.  For those just joining us, I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday until his concert on the 29th at The Orpheum in beautiful downtown Minneapolis.

Let me quickly apologizing for not posting this blog yesterday.  Monday's are an especially tough day for me to be productive and I succumbed to sleep before I had a chance to jot this one down.  So, I'll post this one now and later today I'll post #9.  Hopefully this will help calm the rioting among Morrissey fans who were waiting with baited breath for my post yesterday.  People!  It's only a blog!  Life will go on!

If you haven't been paying attention here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home
18. Munich Air Disaster 1958
17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked
16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me
15. Sister I'm A Poet
14. On The Streets I Ran
13. There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends
12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?
11. Come Back To Camden

Which brings us to the Top 10!

#10. Disappointed (Morrissey/Street)

B-side from the Everyday Is Like Sunday single

Key Line: "This is the last song I will every sing (crowd cheers), No, I've changed my mind again (crowd groans), goodnight and thank you..."

As I mentioned in the earlier post on "Sister I'm A Poet," the success had old Morrissey feeling very playful.  Obviously he felt quite validated by the success of his solo debut and that led to some of his most boastful and biting tracks.  Sadly, nearly all of them were relegated to b-sides (though eventually they were collected onto the album Bona Drag, arguably the most essential "odds and ends" album ever).

On "Disappointed" Morrissey masterfully walks the line between reality and myth, sarcasm and truth, and stereotypes and the truth behind them.

Before Morrissey even makes an appearance on the track, it's clear that he and Stephen Street are having a bit of laugh.  The music for the track is clearly meant to echo the atmosphere of The Smiths iconic "How Soon Is Now?"  In fact, according to Stephen Street, the initial version of the track didn't sound much like the finished bit.  At Morrissey's request, the song was re-worked into the "How Soon Is Now?" echo that was eventually presented to the public.  It's hard to believe that this wasn't intentional, with Morrissey sitting behind the producer's mixing board sporting a wry grin...

Lyrically, Morrissey's mix of sarcasm and truth is really the essence of Morrissey's early solo career.  Opening line, "Our unsleepable friend gets the message on an ill wind, 'All your friends and foes would rather die than to touch you..." is an obvious joke, as, by this point, a Morrissey concert was typically an open invitation for fans to run on stage to touch and hug the singer.  Clearly, Mozzer was not at a lack of people willing to touch him.

(Sidenote: Special kudos to Morrissey for inventing the term "Unsleepable," which draws the mind immediately to the Smiths' tracks "Unloveable" and "Asleep," two of Morrissey's best "I'm sad and alone" tracks.  Clever bastard.)

However, Morrissey also manages to mix in a healthy dose of truth and spite on the track.  A line such as, "Young boy, I wanna help you..." can easily be read as reference to Johnny Marr (though there's no proof that this is indeed a reference to Marr).  Further on, the lines, "Don't talk to me about people who are 'nice,' 'cause I have spent my whole life in ruins because of people who are 'nice.'" are nearly impossible to read as anything but truth.  Especially when one considers that the seeds of lawsuits from Mike Joyce, Andy Rourke, and Craig Gannon had been firmly planted by now.


(Sidenote II:  I submit this video as reason number 3,065 why the 90's were the best thing ever.)

Still, the ending of the track sums up everything one needs to know about Morrissey at this stage of his career.  "This is the last song I will ever sing..." is met with "cheers" from an overdubbed crowd.  Followed by the line, "No, I've changed my mind again..." and the subsequent overdubbed jeers, it's clear that Morrissey is well aware of the many detractors lurking in his post-Smiths landscape.  By adding those crowd noises, Morrissey shows that he is keenly aware of his standing and is more than willing to take the piss out of it himself.

Nobody Loves Us #11: Come Back To Camden

Hello again, everybody. Welcome back to the Nobody Loves Us countdown.

If you don't know, I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday up until his October 29^th concert at The Orpheum right here in Minneapolis.

Here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home

18. Munich Air Disaster 1958

17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked

16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me

15. Sister I'm A Poet

14. On The Streets I Ran

13. There's Place In Hell For Me And My Friends

12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?

Take a minute and scroll down to read my thoughts on those songs. I'll wait...

(waiting...)

(waiting...)

Alright, on to #11:

#11. Come Back To Camden (Morrissey/Boorer)

From the album You Are The Quarry

Key Line: “Your leg came to rest against mine, then you lounged with knees up and apart... and me and my heart – we knew... we just knew...”

When Morrissey returned to the pop world in 2004 much was made of the opening track on You Are The Quarry. “America Is Not The World” proved to be an interesting way to reintroduce yourself to the world. Since the critical ruin of Maladjusted seven years prior, the only relevant piece of news to come out regarding Morrissey was that he was holed-up in Los Angeles. As far as public figures go, few are as intrinsically linked to their home as Morrissey is too England.

While the English press and, one assumes, English fans, were titillated even the title of the opening track (this was 2004, after all), they must have been a bit disappointed with the song's content. Mozzer runs down a list of cliched criticisms of the United States before finally conceding that he'd found a 'flawed-but-beautiful' place, ending the song with “America, I love you, I love you...”

What does all this have to do with “Come Back To Camden?” Well, here it is. Since coming to America Morrissey had treated England like an ex-lover in the most brutal of ways. He would barely take the time to even acknowledge his home country and when he did it was usually to criticize it in some form. Meanwhile England just had to sit and watch Mozzer have this fling with whorey old Los Angeles, knowing full well that L.A. could never love him like England loved him.

The second track on Quarry, “Irish Blood, English Heart” showed that Mozzer's passions for England hadn't dulled, but it was more like one last re-hashing of why he and his homeland were exes, though it came with the acknowledgment that they'd always be linked, that they'd always define each other, regardless of the circumstances.

“Come Back To Camden,” then, is the moment when Morrissey sits down makes his peace with England-the-ex. He's tired of ignoring her. He's tired of the vitriol coming from both directions. He's certainly not promising to come back, but at least he can look back at the past and smile. With an opening line of, “There is something I wanted to tell you, it's so funny you'll kill yourself laughing...” is exactly the kind of awkward, “rehearsed-in-the-mirror” type of thing one would say if they were sitting down for drinks with a long-estranged love.

The conversations that Mozzer undertakes with England in the song is delivered as personal (the song is rooted a real life relationship with someone in Camden). However, it's nearly impossible to listen to without hearing a plea for mutual acknowledgment between himself and his country. Though they've grown apart, it's important for them both to be able to look back and smile.

Mozzer brilliantly spells out a list of things that were annoyances during his relationship with England that, in hindsight, are charming in their triviality. “Slate-grey Victorian sky,” “tea with the taste of the Thames,” “taxi drivers (who) never stop talking...” All of these things bring him back to a time and place that was somehow both flawed and perfect. A place, though, that he knows he cannot return to. That time for England and for Morrissey, as it eventually becomes for any former loves, is past, that place no longer exists. Essentially, this is an elongated way of telling England, in a breathtakingly poetic manner, that, in his own strange way, he's always been true to her.

Nobody Loves Us #12: Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?

Well hello again, everybody, and welcome back to the Nobody Loves Us Countdown.

If you're just joining me I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday up until his show October 29th at The Orpheum in beautiful downtown Minneapolis.

Obviously you can scroll down to have a look at the previous posts (as well as a couple of my posts that have turned up on the Newest Industry blog (please check that blog out when you have a chance.  All Twin Cities Everything!).

If you don't feel like scrolling down, here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home
18. Munich Air Disaster 1958
17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked
16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me
15. Sister I'm A Poet
14. On The Streets I Ran
13. There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends

And so, here we find ourselves:

#12. Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself? (Morrissey/White)

From the album Vauxhall And I

Key Line:  "Don't rake up my mistakes, I know exactly what they are... And what do you do?  Well, you just sit there..."

Morrissey's Vauxhall And I is, pretty much indisputably, the high-water mark for his solo career. It's a brilliantly constructed album that couples Morrissey's growing pathos with a band that, after a couple of albums, has finally figured out how best to back their singer musically.  Tracks like, "Now My Heart Is Full," "Hold On To Your Friends," and, of course, "The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get," could really only have come from this group of musicians at this exact time.

The production of Steve Lillywhite, though, is really the glue that brings the album together.  While the atmospherics on those singles is palpable, his production really shines through on some of the non-singles.  Tracks like, "Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning," and "I Am Hated For Loving" would have withered away in less capable hands.

The best example of all three of these elements is this track.  "Why Don't You Find Out For Yourself?"  To those of us who have been following Morrissey throughout the 2000's, it's easy to lump this song in with many of the "victim" songs that have come to dominate his canon.  However, aside from the likes of "Frankly, Mr. Shankly" and "You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby," Morrissey's portrayal of himself as a victim was typically limited to his role in specific personal relationships.  However, by 1994, Morrissey had suffered more slings and arrows professionally than any sane man could stand.

Once the darling of the English pop scene (a role he obviously relished), Morrissey's Kill Uncle was a clunker of an album that pushed him deeper into the "Rumours" column of the tabloids.  And, while Your Arsenal brought with it critical acclaim, the success was short-lived thanks to Mozzer's controversial appearance (and subsequent non-appearance) at the Madstock festival.  He quickly found himself squarely in the sights of both the critics and the public.  Throw in the perpetual disputes with his managers and record labels and it's no surprise that Moz found himself lashing out.

Immediately, Morrissey lays bare his predicament.  "The sanest days are mad, why don't you find out for yourself?" is at once a cry for help and an admission that he doesn't expect anybody to be able to relate to his problems.  "Some men here, they have a special interest in your career.  They want to help you to grow and then... siphon all your dough..." is a none-too-slight allusion to his brewing court battle with Mike Joyce, which would famously make it's way to England's High Court the following year.

Morrissey, of course, would expect nothing less. "You'll never believe me, so, why don't you find out for yourself?  Sick down to my heart, but that's just the way it goes."  After casting himself as the "outsider" his entire career, Morrissey finally found himself standing alone after all.  Nobody's walked the road he's walked, for if they had, they'd, "see the glass hidden in the grass."

Musically, Alain Whyte's tune was supposedly a much rougher track originally, with a distorted electric guitar taking the lead.  As legend goes, that version of the track is the version Morrissey's vocal take comes from, which goes a long way to explain the audible vitriol in the vocal delivery.

As mentioned earlier, the impact of Steve Lillywhite on Vauxhall cannot be overstated.  Altering the original take by reducing the electric lead to merely drifting in and out of the mix and bringing the acoustic guitar up to take the lead proved to be a stroke of genius.  By making Boz Boorer's high-harmonies far more prominent the song attains a "battered-but-still-punching" fragility that matches the lyrics.

"I've been stabbed in the back so many, many times I don't have any skin, but that's just the way it goes."  As it turned out, there were more stabs to come.  And the wound would never completely heal.

Nobody Loves Us #13: There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends

Well hello again my 25-50 year old, kinda sad, white friends. The Nobody Loves Us countdown continues today.

If you don't know what you're looking at right now, I've decided to countdown my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday until the Mozfather's concert October 29^th at The Orpheum.

Here's what the list looks like so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home

18. Munich Air Disaster 1958

17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked

16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me

15. Sister I'm A Poet

14. On The Streets I Ran

Which brings us to #13 on the list:

#13: There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends (Morrissey/Nevin)

From the album Kill Uncle

Key Line: “When we go, we all will go, so, you see, I'm never alone...”

Calling Kill Uncle an “up-and-down” album is a little bit like describing coffee as “caffeinated” or my blogging style as “tedious.” It seems obvious. Still, the spotty album ends on a high with “There's A Place In Hell For Me And My Friends.”

After trying on many different hats over the course of the album, Morrissey finds himself back in the same place that gave us songs like “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” and “I Won't Share You.” While “There Is A Place” is not on par with those classics, it does share the same structure (just some sparse instrumentation and Mozzer's pleas) and the same bizarrely backward optimism. It even punches in under 2:00.

Over what sounds vaguely like a church hymn, Morrissey seems prepared to lament the fate awaiting him & his company. However, he quickly makes it clear that the “place reserved for me and my friends” is more badge than a banishment. “When we go, we all will go...” is a line used to justify the way of living he's undertaken. You see, he's not alone. Something akin to the old, “50,000 Elvis fans” cliché.

This being Morrissey, of course, his biting English sense of self-deprecation delivers the most memorable line of the song. “All that we hope is when we go our skin, blood, and our bones don't get in your way, making you ill, the way they did when we lived...” There is no way Morrissey was taking his place in the underworld without taking one last shot at those who took him for granted.

While the song is a perfect closer for Kill Uncle, a slight, understated moment on an album sorely lacking both. When the track re-emerged a few years later in rockabilly form it seemed, on it's surface, to be a bit of an injustice. Try to imagine a rockabilly version of “Please, Please, Please...” or “I Won't Share You.” Seems blasephemous, no?

(Quick live sidenote: When I saw Mozzer in Chicago on the Ringleader tour the show closed with an expanded, full band version of “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.” Now, that song is so good that even a dubstep version of it would kill, but I was still left with a bad taste in my mouth that such a perfectly fragile song could be pounded into submission like that.)

And yet, I'm actually a big fan of the rockabilly version that appeared as a b-side to the My Love Life single. As I mentioned in the “Driving Your Girlfriend Home” post, my love of Mozzer stems from his ability to wrap that voice around a hook more than the actual lyrics in the hook. I feel like the braggadocio aspect of the song really shines through on this version. Listen to the way he elongates “bonneesss...” The seething is palpable. Anyway, I'm firmly in the “Rockabilly Version” camp. But that's just me.

Nobody Loves Us #14: On The Streets I Ran

Hello errybody and welcome back to the Nobody Loves Us Countdown. I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday until his Ocotober 29^th concert right here in MPLS.

Here's how the list looks so far:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home

18. Munich Air Disaster 1958

17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked

16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me

15. Sister I'm A Poet

Obviously you can scroll down to see those posts and read my thoughts on each of the songs.

Which brings us to #14:

#14: On The Streets I Ran (Morrissey/Tobias)

From the album Ringleader Of The Tormentors

Key line: "A working-class face glares back at me from the glass and lurches..."

(Watch that video to hear the song and pick up a little bit of Spanish.  Or, as they call it, Espanol)

First off, let me apologize for going back to the well of Death/Manchester for the 3rd time in 6 posts.  I didn't draw it up this way, but the 13 songs ahead of "On The Streets I Ran" definitely couldn't have been listed above it.  That's just how it go.  Write your own list.

While Morrissey touched on the subject of his own mortality on You Are The Quarry (and dug into it significantly on that album's b-sides), the specter of The End hung heavy over the entirety of Ringleader Of The Tormentors.  Nearly every song on the album alludes to death in some capacity.  Not coincidentally, this is also Mozzer's more sexually-forward album.  The fact that he embraced both of these subjects as he surpassed 50 says quite a bit about the man.  But that's a different post.

"On The Streets I Ran" is probably the best of the non-singles off Ringleader.  At the very least, it goes down smoother than the pomposity of "Life Is A Pigsty," "I Will See You In Far-Off Places," and "At Last I Am Born."  While those are all thrilling songs in their own right, they require a certain focus from the listener, an acceptance that by listening you are sharing the song's burdens with Mozzer himself.  "On The Streets I Ran" is merely a catchy, melodic, curiously-morbid toss-off in the best way possible.

Opening with the line, "A working-class face glares back at me from the glass and lurches..." Morrissey sets the stage immediately for a tune regarding his youth, his fame, and how the two have come and gone over the last couple decades.  Of course, he immediately follows that line up with an apology. "Forgive me, on the streets I ran, turned sickness into popular song."

As I've mentioned before, it seems that Morrissey's goal of being a celebrated icon is focused squarely on his hometown of Manchester.  In another apologetic moment, Morrissey tries to justify his departure from his hometown by singing, "All these streets can do is claim to know the real you, and warn, 'if you don't leave you will kill or be killed.'"  Since his Manchester days, of course, Mozzer went from home to London to Los Angeles to Rome to Paris.  Also, at one point, I think he killed a horse. I may not have my facts straight on that one, though.  "Oh, dear god, when will I be where I should be?" he asks with a twinge of panic and fear, perhaps thinking that, even at his age and stature, he's still doomed to follow the paths set on the streets of his youth to, "kill or be killed."

This realization sends Mozzer searching for answers, leading him, oddly, to a palm-reader who delivers the very blunt diagnosis that, "one Thursday you will be dead" only reinforces this fear, causing Mozzer to plea with the lord to take everybody else before taking him.  Even, oddly, "people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania," which seems like a strange thing to say since most Pittsburghers are already dead on the inside.

Nobody Loves Us #15: Sister I'm A Poet

Hi, everybody! Welcome to week two of the Nobody Loves Us countdown.

If you haven't been paying attention, I'm counting down my Top 20 Morrissey Non-Single tracks. Mozzer is playing at The Orpheum October 29^th and I decided it would be appropriate if I threw the spotlight on some of these forgotten classics each weekday up until the show.

In case you've missed the list so far, do me a favor and scroll down. Or just check out how it's played out:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home

18. Munich Air Disaster 1958

17. Seasick, Yet Still Docked

16. I Don't Mind If You Forget Me

So, with that said and done we return to the Viva Hate era with #15 on the list:

Sister I'm A Poet (Morrissey/Street)

B-Side from the Everyday Is Like Sunday single.

Key Line: “That's 'cause I'm a... Sister, I'm a... all over this town...”

While a huge chunk of Morrissey's solo debut Viva Hate was devoted to settling old scores with his estranged partner Johnny Marr (“Angel, Angel Down We Go Together” and “I Don't Mind If You Forget Me”), Mozzer was in fine braggadocio form with this b-side.

Released just a scant three months after Viva Hate (and, therefore, scarcely a year after the demise of The Smiths), “Sister I'm A Poet” is the closest thing we get to a victory lap from Morrissey.

Obviously, the song itself has little to do with Morrissey's actual sister Jacqueline. Rather, the titular “sister” is everybody in Manchester. It's safe to assume that Morrissey's ego was not at all concerned with anybody outside of his hometown since the song only references “this town” and nothing larger.

Of course, even in 1988, a large part of Morrissey's mythology had been built around his hometown of Manchester. I mean, one of the very first songs he and Marr ever wrote together was “Suffer Little Children,” a song that, in a roundabout sort of way, is used to stake The Smiths' and Morrissey's claim as an integral part of Manchester (even if that means associating themselves with the darkest part of the town's past). His opening line, “All over this town, a lone wind may blow....” is a subtle reference to the now-overcome loneliness of his youth.


Essentially, the same Morrissey who spent his formative years holed up in his mum's house reading books and watching James Dean movies still had not-so-secret desires to be a (regionally) famous person, a sex symbol (“I can see through everybody's clothes”) celebrated for more for his bookish outsiderdom than any sort of “mainstream” appeal. The line, “(I've) no reason to talk about the books I read but still I do...” says it all. At this point, it doesn't matter what Morrissey's on about, just that he's talking, and somebody should be there to take note of what's said. His reference to no longer being at the mercy of the town's stoplights is a brilliantly English way of explaining the level of fame he's attained (I'm no longer constrained by common courtesy!)

The quintessential line, “Is evil just something you are or something you do?” is, on it's surface, just a clever phrase, his over-arching point is that he's no longer concerned with such trivial matters of the direct consequences of said person's “evil,” but can has achieved a level of status and comfort that allows him to look at it through more abstract eyes, questioning the roots of said evil rather than the immediate affect.

(European-Style Football Sidenote: A couple of years back, David Beckham made his debut with the Los Angeles Galaxy of the MLS. It did not go well for the first few months, with the fans calling out Beckham and him taking equal offense. I remember watching an episode of Sportscenter in which Beckham was battling with the L.A. fans and seeing somebody holding up a sign that read, “Is evil something you are or something you do?” I have no idea how many Sportscenter viewers caught that and laughed out loud, but let the record show that I was among them).

Stephen Street has described the music for “Sister I'm A Poet” as a conscious attempt to write something that had the same jangle as The Smiths. Obviously he succeeded on that account. While the Morrissey critic is not necessarily wrong to listen to a song like this and think, “Oh, Mozzer isn't taking any chances with this one then, is he?” A fan can't help but listen to it and think, “God, Morrissey and a good guitar lead is all I'll ever need in life.”

Frankly, the fact that this song was demoted to a b-side is at once appropriate (no good Englishman would ever gloat so boastfully on an A-Side) and tragic (as Morrissey's rarely been so catchy and so knowing in his lyrics).

Nobody Loves Us #18: Munich Air Disaster 1958

Hello everybody and welcome once again to the Nobody Loves Us countdown.

If you haven't checked it out yet, I'm counting down my Top 20 Morrissey Non-Singles each weekday until his concert at The Orpheum on October 29^th.

So far the list looks like this:

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home

Which brings us to #18 on the list:

#18: Munich AirDisaster 1958 (Morrissey/White)

B-Side from the Irish Blood, English Heart single.

Key Line: “They can't hurt you. Their style will never desert you. Because they're all safely dead...”

Give this video a look to check out the song and it's (supposed) subject matter:

For those unfamiliar with the titular air disaster, Morrissey is referencing the 1958 airplane crash in Munich that killed members of the Manchester United Soccer team and injured many more. The plane contained the team, coaches, trainers, and journalists.

Before getting into the meat of the song, it's important to take a second and realize the significance of soccer teams to European communities. Based on the amount of history these teams have accumulated and the fact that, for much of the 20^th century, players were found and groomed locally, these clubs are woven into the fabric of their cities in a way that we North Americans cannot totally comprehend. They are institutions.

While the song is slight lengthwise (a brief 2:31), Morrissey, as you may imagine, is able to cram a lifetime worth of pathos into Whites musical backdrop.

White goes straight to the heart of the matter at the start of the song, leading with the sickening sound of a gurgling airplane engine. From their, rollig drums and a pseudo-string section that imply a celebration rather than a funeral march, with Mozzer takes the burden of Manchester on his shoulders, eulogizing them thusly:

“We love them. We mourn for them. Unlucky boys of red...”

(If you don't follow Premier League Soccer, Man U is akin to the Yankees of Major League Baseball. And they wear red.)

As if the grief of the incident is too much to bear, quickly turns the song autobiographical:

“I wish I'd gone down, gone down with them...”

Then, as if pulling back the tears and returning to his eulogizing duties, he laments again:

“We miss them. Every night we kiss them, their faces fixed in our heads...”

Breaking down again, Morrissey again wishes that he had been on that doomed flight. However, this time, he stays with the autobiographical theme (though he disguises it well).

“They can't hurt you, their style will never desert you, because they're all safely dead...”

If this line is read a reference to the deceased players, it's rather cryptic. When read as a commentary on Morrissey's own mortality and place in pop culture, though, it's eminently clear that he's referring to his own place in the hearts and minds of Manchester.

Really, that's the point of this song. By invoking the crash, Morrissey is setting himself up as a Mancunian icon to be discussed with the other signposts in the cities history. The “can't hurt/style” line is more a call for appreciation of himself than anything referencing the doomed soccer players (which explains the celebratory tone of White's tune all along). His line's of wishing he'd, “gone down with them,” are no wish at all, but rather a reminder that one day he'll meet the same fate.

On the album Live From Earls Court, in which this song is played to a rapturous crowd of fellow Mancunians, Morrissey expresses this sentiment in the most clear form yet, ending the album by saying, “Goodbye! Don't forget me!”

Of course, only Morrissey would liken his own existence to one of the great Machester tragedies.