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 #16: I Don't Mind If You Forget Me

Hello everybody and welcome back to the list blah, blah, blah...

If you still don't know what this list is, well let me let you know.  I'm counting down my 20 favorite Morrissey non-singles each weekday up until his concert October 29th at the Orpheum in beautiful downtown 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

Which brings us to #16:

#16: I Don't Mind If You Forget Me (Morrissey/Street)

From the album Viva Hate

Key line: "Rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel..."

A late highlight in an album full of highlights, "I Don't Mind If You Forget Me" is the last rock n roll punch thrown on Viva Hate (though the coldly blunt "Margaret On The Guillotine lands the knockout blow).

When Stephen Street was crafting the music that would become Viva Hate he intentionally set out to write a song that sounded like "Motown meets The Buzzcocks."  In my opinion, that bridge was already crossed by The Jam with "Town Called Malice," but that's neither here nor there.

With a title like that, the casual fan would be forgiven for expecting a cliched, "woe is me," miserablist lament.  However, what became of that instrumental is one of Morrissey's more aggressive shots at his former partner Johnny Marr after the dissolution of The Smiths.

"Sincerely, I must tell you, your mild, "best wishes," they make me suspicious..."


And, bitterly,"Rejection is one thing but rejection from a fool is cruel..."

I mean, it's pretty obvious who lines like that are directed toward.

Of course, Morrissey being an inherently caring (if thin-skinned) man, he can't help but temper his disdain.

"The pressure to change, to move on, was strange and very strong, so this is why I tell you, I really do understand..."

With years of hindsight to our benefit, we know now that there is almost nothing Morrissey fears more than being forgotten.  As such, this song reads as more of an angry letter sent,possibly regretted, in the heat of a stormy breakup (albeit one that inspires more awkward, white person dancing than vodka and "No Diggity" combined.  At least in my apartment).

Nobody Loves Us #17: Seasick, Yet Still Docked

Hello again, Mozzer fans and welcome back to my countdown of my Top 20 Morrissey Non-Singles.  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

(Obviously, scroll down the blog to see read my thoughts on each of those tracks)

Which brings us to #17 on the list:

#17: Seasick, Yet Still Docked (Morrissey/White)

From the album Your Arsenal

Key Line: "I am a poor, freezinly cold soul, so far from where I intended to go..."



You knew we were going to get to the ballads pretty soon, right?

Despite Mozzer's return to his more confrontational roots on Your Arsenal, the second half does come with a "straight to the heart," one-two punch of ballads with "Seasick, Yet Still Docked" and "I Know It's Going To Happen Someday."

While the latter of those tracks tends to attract the most attention in the conversation of "Best Mozzer Ballads," I've always been more fond of  "Seasick" for a couple of reasons.

First, lyrically, it's easy to pigeonhole this track as another "woe is me, nobody loves me" Morrissey dirge, and, admittedly, there is some truth to that.  It seems to me, however, that with the line, "Scavenging through life's very constant lows..." that Morrissey is painting a larger picture.

What Morrissey seems to be implying is that, even with the companionship he lacks, life will still be a struggle.  That, perhaps with companionship, the ship will no longer be docked.  It says nothing of the seasickeness, which would almost assuredly remain.

What truly elevates the song to "classic" status, though, is the work done by Alain White and Mick Ronson.  White's tune is certainly a charmer.  His acoustic strums and electric plucks recreate the feeling of the wind rushing through the dockyards, forcing someone to pull their collar up and their had down.

Ronson's atmospherics, however, are nothing short of genius.  As with nearly all of the album, the little sounds added to "Seasick, Yet Still Docked," are deployed brilliantly.  The vague, ghoulish sounds that drift from speaker to speaker over the course of the song brilliantly leave the question of whether those souls are howling from the docks or from Morrissey's own head.

The song ends with Ronson's best move yet, taking a slightly defeated tone at the 3:50 mark, only to rally aggressively 10 seconds later.  It's as if he's trying to create the, for lack of a better term, "defeatist optimism" of Morrissey's lyrics.  Of course, the aggressive rally last just a few seconds itself and the music returns to it's previous unease.  Whether Morrissey captured this feeling through the arrangement or Ronson built it after hearing Morrissey's performance, rarely have producer and songwriter come together to paint a picture quite so brilliantly.

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.

Songs Of The Week #8: MinneSarah & TCDroogsma

Everybody! This post originally appears on the Newest Industry blog.  I contribute to Newest Industry relatively frequently.  Please check it out if you get the chance.

Patterson Hood, Azure Ray, The Helio Sequence, The David Wax Museum, & Meme

Hello, MP3 junkies and welcome to the eighth installment of Songs Of The Week.  For those of you who are new to the post, we've asked a couple of our regular contributors to review the 5 songs given away via The Current's free Song Of The Day Podcast.  As always, we recommend that you download the podcast for yourself here and play along at home.

Fortunately for both us here at the blog and you loyal readers, MinneSarah is back after a week-long absence.  To the chagrin of fans of thoughtful commentary and the English language in general, TCDroogsma proved yet again to very available.  Like every week, they have not read what the other has written about the tracks beforehand.

So, take it away, kids...

01. Patterson Hood - Disappear (from the album Heat Lightning Rumbles In The Distance)

MinneSarah:

     Everything about this sounds like a hipster Dave Matthews Band song.  The tempo, the strings, the piano, the lyrics.  I like the guy from Drive By Trucker's voice at times, but there is no saving it in this song.  The lyrics are either about fighting with your girl and withdrawing into yourself, or a literal metamorphosis about turning into a mouse.  I loved the 90's and am somewhat nostalgic for a DMB revival. However, honeys, this ain't the Clinton era.

TCDroogsma:

     I've never totally understood why singers or songwriters leave bands in which they are a lead singer and songwriter to record solo albums that sound exactly like the band they just left.  I didn't understand it when Jason Isbell left The Drive-By Truckers to go solo and I don't understand it now that Patterson Hood has, at least temporarily left The Drive-By Truckers.  Maybe this band is a bunch of assholes.

     Anyway, if you're familiar with The Drive-By Truckers version of Southern indie rock you can probably hear this song in your head before you even click play.  The lyrics are actually pretty touching, with the "disappear" of the title referencing his ability to go inside his own head during trouble (evidently with his parents?).  The songs clinching line, "sometimes I hear words spoken underneath the song and I
associate completely," is a killer.

Final Score: MinneSarah - 1/5
                  TCDroogsma - 3/5

02. Azure Ray - Red Balloon (from the EP As Above So Below)

 

MinneSarah:

     The stilted electronic backdrop and lulling vocal verses are intriguing.   However, the chorus is so boring and predictable.  I'm giving Azure Ray the benefit of being one of the few Saddle Creek bands that does not whine on all their songs.  However, this song is pleasant and not much else. 

TCDroogsma:

     It took me a half a dozen listens to figure out exactly why I like this song.  It's a semi-endearing love song, but the production is what really makes it.  The cavernous drums of the verses sound exactly like a pounding heart when someone's eyes take you, "by surprise like a summer rain."  When the those drums drop out for the first chorus, the synthesizers envelope's the song with the same warmth as the realization of the connection made.  The rest of the song, in which the drums and warm-blanket synths combine, paints a fully-realized picture of hipsters in love.  I'd bet even money that this song will be played as a first dance at the most tattooed-up wedding you've ever been to.

Final Score: MinneSarah -2/5
                  TCDroogsma - 3.5/5  

03. The Helio Sequence - October (from the album Negotiations)

 

MinneSarah:

     Helio Sequence are a good band for epic poppy ballads.  This song is not as epic as I would have hoped.  The guitar is nice, but the lyrics are hackeneyed relationship advice and have nothing to do with the month of October.  Still, expect the intricate guitar build ups which are always a treat. 

TCDroogsma:

     Is it weird that, even though I've never owned a Helio Sequence album, I knew exactly what this song would be like before I even heard it?  Kinda indie, kinda dynamic, lot's of echo-ey "whoa's."  I suppose this isn't a bad thing, just a predictable thing.  If you've liked previous Helio Sequence songs than you will like this one.

     The vague, "keep in mind" statements that start of each verse are kind of annoying.  That's the type of shit you say when you want to make a point to your girlfriend but don't want to seem petty by bluntly pointing out some trivial slight from a previous fight.  Or am I the only one that does that?  Wait, that actually explains a few things...

Final Score: MinneSarah - 3/5
                  TCDroogsma - 2.5/5

04. The David Wax Museum - Will You Be Sleeping (from the album Knock Knock Get Up)

MinneSarah:

     This is an uber-catchy song with a lot of distinct elements.  Usually this is a bad thing, but horns sort of speak to each other and it works.  The lyrics are realistic yet lighthearted about couples' insecurities yet are not that annoying.  There is a boy/girl chorus, which actually works together and mirrors the lyrics in a way that symbolizes the duality of the lyrics.  A little too hipster for my tastes, points off for the tambourine. 

TCDroogsma:

     Wait a minute, dude's girlfriend sleeps all day while he's out doing stuff and wakes up just long enough to wrap herself in a sheet and wait by the window for him?  C'mon, girl.  At least get dressed.  Maybe fix up some toast and have some orange juice.

     I can't say I blame her though.  I mean, he's enabling this type of behavior.  Dude's careful not to wake her up when he kisses her as he leaves.  He even asks that she leave the bed unmade!  If my significant other spent their days writing reggae-tinged, cliche-ridden "love" songs I'd stay in bed all day too.

Final Score: MinneSarah - 3/5
                  TCDroogsma - 1/5

05. Meme - Young (from the album Young)

 

MinneSarah:

      This song is electronic-y and mellow, but with acoustic-y sounding guitar. It sounds surprisingly sophisticated.  The vocals really carry the song, and carries through the lulling background. The lyrics are about being young, but maybe because I'm old, they capture a nice mix of action and nostalgia.  I love the barking "oh, oh, oh's," Damon Albarn would be proud. 

TCDroogsma:

     I miss Digitata.

Final Score: MinneSarah - 4/5
                  TCDroogsma - 4/5

There you have it, everybody.  Another week of free music judged and discarded.  Please remember that this neither this blog nor its contributors or is any way affiliated with the artists, The Current, or Minnesota Public Radio.

Be sure to cast your vote in our poll for which song was your favorite of the past week.

For more MinneSarah be sure to give her a follow on Twitter and Instagram (@MinneSarah).  She's currently coming to grips with the difference between alarm clocks and cats.

For more TCDroogsma you can follow him on Twitter and Instagram (@TCDroogsma) or check out his personal blog Flatbasset where he's currently counting down Morrissey songs.  We've been searching for the right psychiatrist do deal with this development.

Of course this blog can be found on Twitter (@NewestIndustry1) and on Facebook here.  Be sure to stop by and give it a 'like' if you have a chance. 

Nobody Loves Us #19: Driving Your Girlfriend Home

Hello again, everybody. Welcome back to Nobody Loves Us. If you didn't catch the first post, basically, I'm making a list of my 20 favorite Morrissey Non-Singles from throughout his solo career. I'll be counting down the list each weekday until October 26^th, at which I point I will have to spend two days preparing myself both mentally and physically for Mozzer's show at The Orpheum on the 29^th.

Also, if you didn't catch the first post, this bit was initially titled Found Found Found.

So, that's what's happening here. So far the countdown looks like this.

20. One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell

On to number 19 then (click the title to check out the track):

19. Driving Your Girlfriend Home (Morrissey/Nevin) 

From the album Kill Uncle

Key Line: “I'm parking outside her home, as we're shaking hands goodnight so politely"

(Click that video to give the song a listen)

Anybody who has paid attention to my rantings about music over the years knows that, deep down, I love pop music. I've always, ALWAYS been a sucker for a good hook.

Even though almost all fans found their way to The Smiths & Morrissey via they lyrical content, it was his ability to wrap his voice around a good hook that really got me... er... hooked.

For example, as teenagers, MinneSarah and I disagreed on most music.  She was always listening to British stuff that I didn't care for while I was drowning myself in pop-punk.  For reasons that completely escape me now, I just couldn't get enough Lagwagon.  I know, I can't explain it either.

Anyway, The Smiths were one of those bands that MinneSarah loved that I just couldn't stand.  A few years later, when I was probably 20 or so, I was driving from Red Wing to Duluth to visit a girlfriend and found myself looking for something new to listen to on the drive.  I stopped at a Best Buy in the Twin Cities and started looking around.

For whatever reason, the "I really don't know and I really don't care..." line from "Hand In Glove" started kicking around in my head.  On a whim, I went and picked up a copy of Louder Than Bombs.  As you know now, this turned out to be a bizarrely important moment, as I've been borderline obsessed with Mozzer ever since

Why do I bring this story?  Well, thanks for asking.

Being a person who's always been a fan of Morrissey (the singer) first and Morrissey (the lyricist) second, "Driving Your Girlfriend Home" was, for me, the standout track on Kill Uncle.

"Driving Your Girlfriend Home" is, initially, a pretty languid pop tune.  The acoustic strums and swaying bass provide a lovely foundation, but they are far from attention-grabbers.  Morrissey's initial verse does little to grab the listener.

Listening to it now, it's obvious that it grabbed me with the chorus.  Moz builds to the chorus by vocally imitating the aforementioned swaying bass line.  "'Turn left,' she says/I turn left/And she says..." are straight from the Lou Reed school of hyper-literal lyrics.  However, with Linder Sterling providing some lovely backing harmonies, Mozzer delivers the chorus beautifully.

"So how did I end up so deeply involved in the very existence I planned on avoiding?"  The lament of his friend's girlfriend is given both the weight & humour it deserves by Morrissey's lightness.  The broadness of such a complaint is certainly laughable, but the underlying emotions that would lead to such a complaint are very real.  The fact that he's able to toe the line between the two is one of the more underrated aspects of Morrissey's vocal ability.

Morrissey himself alludes to this delicate line in the second verse by observing that the woman is, "laughing to stop herself crying..."

In the second verse, the woman's narrows her complaint from the entirety of her existence to her dissatisfaction with her boyfriend.

"How did I end up attached to this person, when his sense of humour gets gradually worser?"

Two things come to mind here:

First, given Morrissey's notorious preference for solitude, it's no surprise that he would write a song in which a person's all-encompassing misery & confusion would later be boiled down to said person's companion.

Second, given Morrissey's equally-notorious inability to deal with conflict on a face-to-face level, it should come as no surprise that, after both questions, "I can't answer"

The song ends echoing this same sentiment:

"I'm parking outside her home/and we're shaking hands goodnight so politely"

Of course, the only way Morrissey could handle this woman's personal crisis would be with sterotypical English reservation and politeness.  With just two and a half verses and two choruses, Morrissey has painted a brilliant vignette about himself.