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 29th
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.
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!)
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).
