SONGS THAT SAVED MY LIFE #10 - A THUNDERING DESIRE FOR LOVE.....
As i began discovering Indie music from 1994 onwards, my attention was inevitably drawn to the artists who had influenced the then current crop of bright young things. As a young 'un, i had been aware of a few Indie bands, but i was too young to appreciate or understand what i saw as "sixth former" music - the exceptions being Carter USM, Jesus Jones, and a few others from the "Indie-dance" contingent, although my knowledge of these acts was limited to a few hit singles and inclusions on NOW/Hits compilations. Now with available income and a host of music weeklies and monthlies to read, my education began. One of the most commonly mentioned influences was The Smiths. I'd been just 10 when they'd split up, and i'd heard a couple of their last few singles - i have very clear memories of watching them perform "Sheila Take A Bow" on TOTP, and i'd seen the video to "Girlfriend In A Coma", but that was the extent of my knowledge of this highly revered band.
In 1988, their iconic frontman Morrissey began his solo career, so i was more aware of his output, especially the his first run of great singles - "Suedehead", "Everyday Is Like Sunday", "The Last Of The Famous International Playboys" - all huge hits that eclipsed his former bands' success.
Morrissey has had a long solo career, one full of ups and downs, and variable quality control, and when i first became acquainted with The Smiths music in 1995 he was close to releasing Southpaw Grammar, not one of his most well received albums, but more of that later.
The Smiths "Singles" (all their album titles were in quotation marks) compilation was released in February, and i'd bought it whilst browsing the racks in my local record shop, Frank Sissons. Recognising a couple of the songs, and intrigued by the level of influence they had, i thought i'd give it a go. Taking it home and playing it on that damp winters day, my world was changed. Johnny Marrs' guitar playing was like nothing i'd ever heard, far more than the sum of his influences, soaring, jangling, melodic, rocking. The melodic bass lines of Andy Rourke were like little songs in themselves, and the strident drumming of Mike Joyce anchored it all. Morrissey was like no other singer i'd ever encountered, and his lyrics similarly so. Full of dark, mordant wit and black but sometimes irreverant humour, littered with references to the music, films, books and literature of his childhood and youth, and cut through with a distinctly un-masculine mix of self doubt, loneliness, outsiderdom and shyness, a longing desire to be loved and accepted yet revelling in the perverse pleasure that being solitary and standing apart from the crowd sometimes brings. As a shy teenager lacking in self confidence, with limited social skills and absolutely no idea how to talk to girls, the lyrics resonated with me in a way that was rare. The Smiths were often seen as a "bedsit band", appealing to lonely students and young men around the country, people who felt excluded from society, and though i can see how that image came about i think it fails to acknowledge the humour and Wildean wit inherent in many of their songs. The very Mancunian and northern attitude of the band - anti-establishment, anti-London, a defiantly independent outlook that led to them signing to Rough Trade - contrasted with Morrissey and Marrs' appreciation and love of Rock and Pops' past, and a very unique way in presenting themselves. But the music alone is enough to make them legends. The 18 tracks (not all in their 7" versions, but that's just nitpicking) on "Singles" are mini-dramas, Play For Today missives, from the outsider statement of debut single "Hand In Glove", with its harmonica nod to "Love Me Do", through the first flush of chart success with the tangled chords and slightly off-centre rhythm of "This Charming Man", the swamp rock blues of "How Soon Is Now?", the glam rock influenced and Radio 1 baiting "Panic", the orchestral high drama of "Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me", and my personal favourite, the rollocking, charging rock 'n' roll of "Bigmouth Strikes Again" (that middle eight always sends a tingle down my spine), there is not a duff track on there. I later got into the rest of their magnificent back catalogue, but it was this introduction that bought me into their world. The final song on here is "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out", originally an album track on "The Queen Is Dead", but released as a single posthumously in 1992 to promote The Best Of The Smiths II. A majestic, sweeping mix of strings and strummed guitars, with a lyric that pleads with a potential lover to "take me out tonight.... anywhere, i don't care", and declares that dying by their side would be a pleasure, a privilege, rather than go home - the now legendary chorus of "If a double decker bus, crashes into us...." - is one of their best songs, and a perfect mix of high drama, doomed romanticism and black humour. The Smiths made it ok to not be a beer-swilling, aggressive, "real man": they told you it was ok to be a sensitive male, to not conform to the straitjacket of society's expectations. And in the coming age of the "New Lad" - Loaded magazine, football, beer, foul language, and generally being a twat like Liam Gallagher -, this message was important for people like me who didn't fit in.
In 1988, their iconic frontman Morrissey began his solo career, so i was more aware of his output, especially the his first run of great singles - "Suedehead", "Everyday Is Like Sunday", "The Last Of The Famous International Playboys" - all huge hits that eclipsed his former bands' success.
Morrissey has had a long solo career, one full of ups and downs, and variable quality control, and when i first became acquainted with The Smiths music in 1995 he was close to releasing Southpaw Grammar, not one of his most well received albums, but more of that later.
The Smiths "Singles" (all their album titles were in quotation marks) compilation was released in February, and i'd bought it whilst browsing the racks in my local record shop, Frank Sissons. Recognising a couple of the songs, and intrigued by the level of influence they had, i thought i'd give it a go. Taking it home and playing it on that damp winters day, my world was changed. Johnny Marrs' guitar playing was like nothing i'd ever heard, far more than the sum of his influences, soaring, jangling, melodic, rocking. The melodic bass lines of Andy Rourke were like little songs in themselves, and the strident drumming of Mike Joyce anchored it all. Morrissey was like no other singer i'd ever encountered, and his lyrics similarly so. Full of dark, mordant wit and black but sometimes irreverant humour, littered with references to the music, films, books and literature of his childhood and youth, and cut through with a distinctly un-masculine mix of self doubt, loneliness, outsiderdom and shyness, a longing desire to be loved and accepted yet revelling in the perverse pleasure that being solitary and standing apart from the crowd sometimes brings. As a shy teenager lacking in self confidence, with limited social skills and absolutely no idea how to talk to girls, the lyrics resonated with me in a way that was rare. The Smiths were often seen as a "bedsit band", appealing to lonely students and young men around the country, people who felt excluded from society, and though i can see how that image came about i think it fails to acknowledge the humour and Wildean wit inherent in many of their songs. The very Mancunian and northern attitude of the band - anti-establishment, anti-London, a defiantly independent outlook that led to them signing to Rough Trade - contrasted with Morrissey and Marrs' appreciation and love of Rock and Pops' past, and a very unique way in presenting themselves. But the music alone is enough to make them legends. The 18 tracks (not all in their 7" versions, but that's just nitpicking) on "Singles" are mini-dramas, Play For Today missives, from the outsider statement of debut single "Hand In Glove", with its harmonica nod to "Love Me Do", through the first flush of chart success with the tangled chords and slightly off-centre rhythm of "This Charming Man", the swamp rock blues of "How Soon Is Now?", the glam rock influenced and Radio 1 baiting "Panic", the orchestral high drama of "Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me", and my personal favourite, the rollocking, charging rock 'n' roll of "Bigmouth Strikes Again" (that middle eight always sends a tingle down my spine), there is not a duff track on there. I later got into the rest of their magnificent back catalogue, but it was this introduction that bought me into their world. The final song on here is "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out", originally an album track on "The Queen Is Dead", but released as a single posthumously in 1992 to promote The Best Of The Smiths II. A majestic, sweeping mix of strings and strummed guitars, with a lyric that pleads with a potential lover to "take me out tonight.... anywhere, i don't care", and declares that dying by their side would be a pleasure, a privilege, rather than go home - the now legendary chorus of "If a double decker bus, crashes into us...." - is one of their best songs, and a perfect mix of high drama, doomed romanticism and black humour. The Smiths made it ok to not be a beer-swilling, aggressive, "real man": they told you it was ok to be a sensitive male, to not conform to the straitjacket of society's expectations. And in the coming age of the "New Lad" - Loaded magazine, football, beer, foul language, and generally being a twat like Liam Gallagher -, this message was important for people like me who didn't fit in.
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