The ego has landed…..to be precise he’s landed south of the River Thames, in the Blade Runner-esque environs of the 02 Arena.
Of all the self obsessed vegetarian Penguin classic authors who used to be in a dead famous band called The Smiths , Morrissey is the greatest (in his own mind at least ). We are here to pay homage, and it being ‘that there London’ the homage is a bit on the expensive side, but the disciples don’t care, God is in the house.
First though, Domino records big white crossover hope, Anna Calvi is not at first glance the ideal person who would come to mind as a suitable support act for Morrissey. She’s overtly ‘rock chick’ and her guitar playing, of which there is a LOT does not take prisoners. Her lyrics unfortunately drown and scream for air under the combined weight of frenetic and relentless guitar solos, whatever deep meaningful shit she’s singing about it is unfortunately lost in the histrionics. But despite the bombast she did go down well with a devout fanbase in attendance who lapped up tracks from her current album One Breath.
Before the appearance of the man himself we are treated to a brilliant Moz curated montage of images and footage of variously, The Ramones, Brian Eno, Charles Aznavour, Nico, live archive footage of much loved punkers Penetration from 1978 doing ‘Don’t Dictate’, The New York Dolls ripping up German TV with ‘Lookin for a kiss’, plus some poetry, snippets of black and white interview clips and an ecstatically received ‘Ding dong the witch is dead’ accompanied by footage of Thatcher’s funeral. The presumably ex miner on acid two rows in front started clapping and singing along like he was at a Lady Gaga gig. Fantastic.
Lights down, no messing, enter stage left one band plus Moz, dressed all in white like a middle aged angel looking a bit like Stan Laurel. The band do an incongruous group hug, he then walks to the front of the stage and says so honestly it would make grown men cry ‘I am so privileged.’ In the light of recent guarded hints and ambiguous statements about his health this tearful honesty runs like a river through this gig, lyrics take on new found significance and the gig is one of those rare occasions where a musical event is lifted into a realm that is so much more than mere pop music. Elements of mortality and love and a deeper connection to each other and to our planet spin around your brain. You’ll dance but you’ll probably be thinking about death. He is the king of hilarity and venom, which to those here is a truly great thing.
The music starts with an enormous image of a photoshopped Queen Elizabeth II projected onto the backscreen, she’s giving you the middle finger, then there’s some photos of the vile Kate and Wills, and out comes a familiar scream of feedback as the band tear into an absolute scorchio! version of ‘The Queen is Dead’. There’s a collective gasp of recognition and elation sweeping around the venue as madness ensues. This breathtaking opener set the bar high and was only bettered by a delerious version of ‘Suedehead’.
He disses the label who put out the current album World Peace is None of Your Business, who, according to Mozzer, fucked him over. Three of the band also sport ‘fuck Harvest Records’ T-shirts, to hammer home the point. Despite this he’s clearly proud of the album and tonight plays virtually its entirety, veering from delightful jaunty pop fluff of ‘Kiss me Alot’ to the intensity of ‘Smiler with a knife’ and especially ‘I’m Not a Man’, which really comes alive with its repeated denouncements of stereotypical male bravado bullshite.
His version of ‘Meat is Murder’ is just staggering, starting with an angry tirade over the current contaminated supermarket chicken fiasco, he goes on to state that ‘people might die ha ha ha!’ There follows some very harrowing footage of the wholesale slaughter of animals for the food trade, whilst the music builds to a climax amidst a vivid red strobe lightshow and a rockingly intense coda. I’m going veggie after that!
That previously mentioned thread of mortality and loss is never more evident than on the penultimate number ‘Asleep’ the B side of ‘The Boy With the Thorn in his Side’ from 1987. The huge venue falls silent and we try decipher the clues (at this point, go listen) it’s not difficult.
By the end a stunned crowd is floored, shredded and torn asunder, this is ART baby and don’t you forget it. Finally, he brings the evening to a close with a flourish, he reprises one of his greatest singles Everyday is like Sunday, a most fitting ending to a stupendous gig.
by John Haylock
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