Thursday, October 25, 2012

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..."