Tales like this - and let's face it, they have been surfacing for years - illustrate the reason I would never wish to meet Morrissey under any circumstances. I'll stick with the image of him in my head, thank you, an intellectual outsider cast adrift on a sea of ridiculous pop star excess and idiots who would sack a lacky on a whim and for no good reason other than they looked at them in a funny way. (Errrr...)
These days it seems the standard bearer of alternative music is Nick Cave. At least he seems to know how to conduct himself in a civilised manner, and is producing thought provoking, challenging music in his fiftieth year while others I could mention of a similar age are resting on their (well deserved, admittedly) laurels. When we hear of Val Kilmer, Russell Crowe et al doing this kind of thing we slate them, and rightly so, for being puffed up, self-regarding fools. Whither Moz? Is he sacking people on idiotic pretexts with a subtle, ironic Mancunian wit that escapes me or is he just being a good, old fashioned superstar p***k?
Morrissey is a highly talented songwriter and a great showman, but often those traits come hand in hand with a gentle lunacy and a coterie of yes men in tow. Not for me, thank you. He's slowly turning into C. Montgomery Burns, and perhaps he should rename his backing band the Smithers, being both a nod to their more illustrious antecedents and seemingly summing up quite neatly their current role in the Morrissey organisation.
Perhaps if he didn't surround himself with sycophants endlessly treading on eggshells someone would have had the courage to tell him that in the song "I Like You", you do not take a new "tact" with someone in the context in which the line is written, you take a new "tack", and you spell "cemetry", "cemetery."
With these minor errors in mind can any of us know for sure that his finest hour was not really meant to be called "Thy Quorn Is Deaf", and far from being a swipe at the monarchy it was in fact another paean to vegetarianism? And this from an heir apparent of Keats and Yates, to boot. Is it just possible our beloved Morrissey, whose albums and singles range the length of my CD shelf here, is not quite the charming intellectual he seeks to portray himself as? Is it possible he is instead a brute and a bully, with an ear for a tune and a pleasing turn of phrase?
His new album had better be an improvement on the second rate stomp that made up most of Ringleader Of The Tormentors, because I'm going off the Virgin Queen quite rapidly having followed him since 1983. Stories like this disgust me as they betray a lack of human empathy that is disturbing.
When you examine Morrissey's songbook they are all pretty much of an insular, introspective nature, in which others are nearly always there to take the blame for our hero's demise and to feel the sharp nib of his pen and verbal dexterity. It is that which appeals to those of us who see ourselves in much the same light, for whatever reason. But despite this we remain a 'market' even if we see ourselves as followers and somehow blessed with an insight others do not possess. It doesn't necessarily make it true and when the album sales are totted up the accountants will not include a line for "plus goodwill of his audience". He isn't J.J. Barrie. Yet. He seems to have a lot in common with J.M. Barrie though, as he seems to have created a fantasy world for himself.
He is no different to any other pop star in that sales are all and the things that do make him different, not least the image he projects and our perception of it, should be guarded, and that should begin with him behaving not like a spoiled brat, but like the couth and charming gentle man we have all bought into. Few pop stars today rely on a carefully cultivated image to the extent he does.
He has an absolute right to hire and fire as he sees fit, but to do it on a seeming whim and to then not have the courage or courtesy to disclose the reason to the person concerned is pitiable. Morrissey appears to be in danger of becoming the Ceauşescu of pop, and we all know what happened to him. One day the crowd booed instead of cheering. All glory is fleeting.
If it makes our author feel any better I would have been out of there when the first hint of that kind of blithering imbecility was detected. He did well to last as long as he did and should be congratulated on surviving a night in the madhouse with his senses intact. He was treated shabbily if his tale is true, and let's be honest, it has a distinct ring of veracity to it, doesn't it?
Perhaps the reason Morrissey loathes Elton John is not Reg's music, but that he clearly sees himself in the well documented excesses of the grand dame.
If you hire and fire people based on the contents of their iPod playlist and/or dress sense, above their ability to actually do the job I would suggest you really need to take a long hard look at yourself because there is a very good chance you may be insane.
My first single? 'White Horses' by Jacky. 'Gis a job.
OK, do tell us your first vinyl purchase
