Morrissey – Greatest Hits (Universal/Decca)
February 11th, 2008
2.5/6.0
Firstly, a confession; I am a Moz-ite. Not to the point of wearing NHS specs and walking round with flowers in my arse pocket, but I am a pretty dedicated Morrissey disciple all the same; I know all the words to Sister, I’m a Poet, I have a piece of the great man’s shirt sleeve in my mother’s house, and my presence has been felt at The Smiths nights at the Star and Garter on more than the odd occasion. But being an avid Morrissey follower can be difficult. Most of us will forgive him almost anything, but there has to come a time when enough is enough.
For someone who realises the importance of enigma in pop music, paradox has long since been a Morrissey trait. 25 years on, he sings about being a loner, yet is the most self-assured, confident one to ever live. He speaks of Britain’s ills, yet hasn’t lived here for a decade. He talks about being anti-establishment, yet appears on TV with Jonathan Ross only days after cancelling half of his Roundhouse residency.
Which brings us to this sorry excuse for a compilation (the sixth of his solo career, incidentally – reissue, reissue, repackage indeed). It is his ‘Greatest Hits’, but quite how he has the gall to call it so is beyond me. Of the fifteen tracks, eleven are post-2004, with The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get the sole representative of his 90’s output.
So begs the question, who exactly is this compilation for and what is the point? Anyone recently acquainted with Morrissey since his sumptuous comeback will have these songs anyway, with little else to raise interest in investigating his back catalogue. Everyone else will bemoan his blatant attempt to needlessly justify his relevance by pretending the last four years have been his most creatively rewarding. There is an argument that the tracklisting merely rounds up his biggest chart entries and compiles them, but even that isn’t true – Interesting Drug charted at 9 in 1989, whilst a number of his earlier solo hits went top 20 – all of which are certainly more enjoyable than the wretched The Youngest Was the Most Loved.
The lack of 90’s material is astounding, given that his two best albums (Your Arsenal and the glorious Vauxhall And I) are from this period, not to mention his constant carping that the much maligned Southpaw Grammar and Maladjusted are not as bad as perceived (he’s wrong – Maladjusted in particular is fuck-awful). His idea of reality and the actual truth are often strangers to each other, but he must live in fantasy land if he thinks people would rather listen to decent enough, but Moz-by-numbers stuff like You Have Killed Me or I Have Forgiven Jesus rather than Now My Heart Is Full, or even Boxers.
A live cover of Patti Smith’s Redondo Beach even gets the nod, although it probably insults the intelligence to tell you it’s not a patch on the original. Completists can’t even take a great deal of comfort in the new tracks. That’s How People Grow Up is Morrissey’s worst single for well over a decade and hands down the worst thing on here; no discernable tune, half-arsed lyrics (“# Love does not come from someone who does not exist #“…really, Moz?) and a chorus that relies on nothing other than his voice and even more extravagant use of elongated vowels than usual. All You Need Is Me is a lot better, full of energy and bite, yet hardly justifies inclusion over some of those omitted.
The exasperating thing is that nearly half of this record is, obviously, wonderful. Suedehead and Everyday Is Like Sunday need no re-introduction, whilst The Last Of The Famous International Playboys is Moz at his glam-pop best. Of the newer material, both First of the Gang to Die and Irish Blood, English Heart are already classics, proving his Indian summer was merited and not merely brought on by a wave of nostalgia.
Yet with this compilation, he is pushing his luck too far and whether contractual obligations forced it through is a moot point. In choosing to ignore large chunks of his back catalogue not only is he rewriting history to suit his own ends, but also displaying incredible arrogance in believing people will lap up this totally redundant exercise just because he is Morrissey. He, of all people, is aware of the relationship between artist and fans, and really should stop treating his audience with the contempt he normally reserves for a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder with cheese. Is that too much to ask?
words: Shaun Curran
Authors bio is coming up shortly.