You don't bring me flowers anymore
Morrissey, Dec. 11 at the Ventura Theater
By David Cotner 12/17/2009
I learned about oral sex from Morrissey.
I used to be a hard-core Morrissey fan. I was the one walking around downtown Ventura in the early ’90s with a bunch of flowers sticking out of my back jeans pocket. I’m also responsible for emptying out L.A. record stores of their remaining Smiths records before his first huge solo U.S. tour. I bought the “Hulmerist” video, released shortly after he had begun his solo career in 1991 — there’s a brief scene, very brief, almost imperceptible, set backstage before Morrissey and band come down to perform. There’s nothing overtly sexual about it, but the blueprint is entirely there, laid out with glistening simplicity. In that cloistered little moment, everything becomes real and tangible and vital. All he does is lick his lips out of nervousness. That’s how dedicated the core fans are — they pay attention to every little thing.
So what do we learn from Morrissey tonight? In recent years, tickets to his concerts might as well be printed on flash paper, so frequently does he cancel or reschedule. Consequently, it’s good to learn patience and forbearance as a fan of his. But here he is tonight, and the pre-show entertainment — all the great music to which Morrissey exposes his fans — is a visual mix tape of footage of various Morrissey heroes. There’s Millie Small singing “My Boy Lollipop,” Lou Reed interviewed about drugs and dislikes in Australia in 1974, an old Sparks video, the New York Dolls on German TV — and the balcony is open and packed, as is the rest of the theater.
Word from the crew comes down that there are no flowers allowed in the venue — heresy of heresies, given Morrissey’s copious use of gladioli as props. Also forbidden is bottled water, following last month’s incident during which Morrissey ended a show after being hit by one lobbed from the audience. Psychoacoustic bass shakes the building to its foundations, and The Smiths’ opus “How Soon Is Now” plays on amid flashing oblong light-boxes shaped like Spanish exclamation points. That beautiful stuttering scythe of the guitar line bleeds into “Irish Blood, English Heart,” and the drummer’s kit, with its maximum gong and marching band bass, makes him one of the loudest drummers this side of AC/DC.
“Are you happy? How do you know?” Morrissey asks archly by way of introducing “The Loop,” his really lovely, forlorn rockabilly song. The rapturous reception to “Let Me Kiss You” drives home the point that this is not the sometime adulation of, say, a David Byrne concert, during which everyone jumps up for “Burning Down the House” — but almost everything else gets a wiping ovation. At one point, Morrissey takes off his shirt and throws it to the audience, which immediately reduces it to rags, and how much of your entertainment dollar goes toward disposable couture?
Another Smiths classic now, “Ask,” then “First of the Gang to Die” — and admittedly, Morrissey hasn’t had a solid album since Your Arsenal, and lately he’s sacrificed the Tune in favor of the Word, but then The Smiths’ “Cemetery Gates” materializes and all dithering dissipates, gliding out on golden goosebumps back to a time when his lyrical essence was that of being humorously beleaguered, not persecuted and touchy as he comes off lately. Songs from 2009’s Years of Refusal (“I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris,” “Ganglord,” “Black Cloud,” “I’m Okay By Myself”) mix with the majestic back catalogue of The Smiths’ “Is It Really So Strange?” and “Death at One’s Elbow” as well as recent tracks “Don’t Make Fun of Daddy’s Voice” and “Teenage Dad on His Estate.”
“This Charming Man” passes like a dream, and the encore, the last song on the final concert of their tour, is one song, “One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell,” with its rocketing bass rhythm racket. The traditional stage invasion by the crowd remains at the barest of all possible minimums and happens only at the end. Originally, had the evening taken a different path, this review would have concerned itself with the $89 ticket price and why hundreds might be willing to sacrifice so much for apparently so little — but guess what? It was absolutely worth every single goddamned dime.
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Comments
Here is MY review that was going to be published.
very detailed from a fan who has been listening to The Smiths for 26 years!
http://ravenexit75.blogspot.com
Pictures and video included!
Thanks, Have a nice day!
=)
Here is MY review that was going to be published.
very detailed from a fan who has been listening to The Smiths for 26 years!
http://ravenexit75.blogspot.com
Pictures and video included!
Thanks, Have a nice day!
=)