Before Jimmy Fallon, Morrissey was one of it not the most revered singer/songwriters on the planet. I'm not passing any judgement on "For Britain" or any of the political stuff, but this began his downfall. After this, his record company dropped him like a hot potatoes and then he was holed up on Moz-Central posting videos of right wing types (again, this is fine with me I could care less). His new record with a host of musicians said to be the best record of his career was shelved because of his fetish with Miley Cyrus. He then targeted the record executive at Capitol Records and tried to blame her when in fact the release of Bonfire had nothing to do with her at all and he offered her no apology. His next record with Alain is on the shelf with no release date insight and Alain is gone for good. Now, I think it is going to be harder to book an event given his cancellations and his recording career is in shambles. His current band does not seem to be that well liked and he plays the same old tired set lest that most people find boring. He has the worst press coverage of any artist known to man. I bet backup bands are hard to find, because they know he will cancel hours before an event. I am sure his current band is now looking for work. Yes a good long rest in Zurich is the best call he has made in a very very long time.
Quarry aside, since Viva Hate Morrissey albums have always sold less than the predecessor in the UK (I think).
The negative press isn’t really any different than anything doing the rounds in ‘92-‘93. The medium is different: so many more who’ve never really listened are saying they are no longer going to listen (he’s more useful than ever, for the purpose of making some lofty point).
There are undoubtedly more people than ever getting some symbolic mileage, from Morrissey’s continuing shit decision making.
Dog was just a notch beneath Vauxhall in terms of quality. Sales were leagues behind.
World Peace was great, High School was surprisingly poor. Given everything else going on, High School needed to be great in terms of Morrissey, the commercial project.
My last gig in 2022 was—in terms of energy and excitement—the best since Paris 2006 (seven since then).
The latest Quarry gigs ostensibly recognised a rearguard need to change tack. A compromise from camp Morrissey (though I doubt he was ever fully on-board), which he probably regretted days after agreeing: Too much yielding for Morrissey, and not enough nostalgia to bring the necessary crowds in.
The latest debacle was in LA: he has just dumped on his own doorstep. But it’s a commercial bridge no bigger than the IoW, Bryan Ferry support slot, which he happily set fire to years and years ago.
He’s 65: he’s inevitably nearer the end. But until then, it’s perpetual and further chaos, I expect. With some ‘rest’ in between, as f***ing it all up is exhausting.
No prospect of him playing arenas anytime soon. Small venues will suit me and several thousand others just fine. I won’t be travelling, so no fretting about the cancellations. Fingers crossed though.
And it will all continue to equally annoy and enchant me, and often make no sense at all. That’s the nature of the ride.
If and when I feel it’s not worthwhile, I’ll get off and just enjoy the plentiful other stuff out there: Say She She and Slift are my next gigs, two great ‘new’ bands by the way. But I’ll be wearing a Morrissey tee as I watch.
