I'm somewhat famous in some circles as someone who likes The Smiths significantly less than I'm supposed to. You know, for someone of my age and who is so deeply enamored of so much of the rest of the post-punk pantheon. But what am I supposed to do about it? I tried. Someone proposed the idea that perhaps someone who likes Mark E. Smith as much as I do is doomed to dislike Morrissey. And it's true, I only became aware of The Smiths at the very end of their run-- the album this track opens, their last one, was the first one I heard-- and the irritating nature of post-Smiths Morrissey certainly colors my opinion. But that's not all of it. I dunno.One of my biggest Morrissey pet peeves is that he doesn't seem to have any concept of musical meter; his lyrics and melodies read to me like blank verse just crammed willy-nilly into whatever the next piece of music someone hands him happens to be. Hence lots of repeated words, absurdly stretched out or rushed syllables, and moaning to fill out a few bars that he should've known would be there. One man's genius phrasing is another man's obvious slop, I guess. Some of that I "corrected" automatically in the one take I expended on this vocal, all the while trying to find my way into the tune with all the respect I could muster. It sounds a little bit like Wire with a severely stunted intellect to me.
Personnel: Rex
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