They are both rape, violence, murder. This was my seventh time seeing the Mozfather live and, having needed a telescope to see him last time I went at the O2 , this time I had splashed out on a good seat. I treated myself, in other words, and I'm glad I did, because being up close really made the evening.
And not just for the photos and videos I took, but for the details All of that. You don't get it from the back of an enormodome, even with Jumbotrons to help. But anyway. After a quick perusal of the merchandise stall offering scarves, fans, badges and pillowcases as well as the obligatory t-shirts, none of which featured contemporary photographs of Moz , I took my seat early and, if I'm honest, with a little trepidation.
Reviews of earlier shows on the tour had been mixed, with The Guardian very much determined not to enjoy themselves. Also, I'm often a little unsure how gigs in all-seater venues will play out - often, the atmosphere is different, I think.
Less of a spark. And I was concerned that, although my ticket clearly said "Morrissey plus special guests", I had read that the support act was a film show, not a band At precisely 8.
To be honest, "film show" is over stating it a bit. YouTube clips spliced together is more accurate. Throughout this, the bloke sitting next to me kept looking up the songs on Shazam - when he couldn't get a match for the James Brown track, I had to lean over and help him out.
He even Shazam'ed the Sex Pistols track, surely one of the least ambiguous tracks of the last fifty years. But I digress. He cuts a substantial figure these days, does Moz - not fat but no longer the skinny, callow figure of yesteryear. Middle-aged spread comes to us all if you we eat too many pies, even vegetarian pies. And the fabled quiff is largely a thing of the past, a victim of a receding hairline. But he is still magnetic on stage, owning the space. Dressed top to toe in dark clothes, a string of beads and a dangling key fob completed Morrissey's look.
The band, by contrast, were all in white shirts. The stage was lit with neon prefect badge shapes, a nod to the Low In High School theme. The question is, are you? The crowd, predictably, went wild for this, even though many of them weren't alive when it was released.
After this, there was a bit of a pause whilst Moz dispensed with the line of security at the front of the stage who were spoiling the devoted's view, and complained to unseen crew member Max about a spotlight giving him a headache. When it was turned off, he remarked, "Now you can't see me, which is pretty perfect.
People are extremely ignorant. They can't be controlled, so don't control them. We may never know. Slightly unexpectedly, for me at least, Munich Air Disaster was next, complete with archive footage of Busby's Babes projected on the back screen. This was swiftly followed by Home Is A Question Mark, for which Jesse Tobias unleashed an electric string and I got a sudden bout of guitarist's envy. The point was well, if graphically, made. Quite a lot of people went for drinks.
Not me though. We invented free speech. I think it's time we got it back. The next track was a personal favourite, Hold On To Your Friends, at the end of which slightly bizarrely Moz signed some vinyl for people in the front row, whilst the crowd chanted his name. Then pianist Gustavo Manzur teased an elongated version of the piano intro to In Your Lap before the band launched into Everyday Is Like Sunday and the crowd combusted.
This was the first in a run of five blistering tracks: Jack The Ripper was next, with the stage bathed in red light and smoke; then came recent single Spent The Day In Bed, quite a singalong for the crowd; this was followed by live favourite Speedway, which has lost none of its power; and then, the only Smiths track of the night, How Soon Is Now?
This might have been the obvious point at which to end the main set, but no. Then they slipped off-stage, only to return minutes later, for Morrissey to say goodnight with "As always, be good to yourself, be kind to animals and look after each other.
And that's it really. As the band scooted off-stage, Jesse launched a plectrum into the crowd too, but not many noticed - they were too busy forming a polite but determined scrum around the shirt. And then the house lights came up and it was all over. I have to tell you, I felt ecstatic.
As I've already said, sitting so close to the action made a real difference and changed, for me, what might have just been Morrissey singing into Morrissey performing. And although I'd taken my proper camera, rather than rely on my phone, I came away feeling I wanted an actual souvenir, a keepsake more substantial than digital photographs Read more. Report as inappropriate. Morrissey has been my favourite artist for a long time.
But last night just exceeded my expectations by far. The vocals he has are just amazing, truly truly brillaint. He did How Soon Is Now and the atmosphere was incredible. At one song there was a digereedoo being played and the rest of his band were very active with the crowd. Morrissey himself was lovely and charming and spoke to the crowd a lot. But the moment for me was Speedway. I lit up and just could not believe I was hearing my favourite song.
He left some parts of the first verse blank and that was so amazing to hear the crowd sing. I cried throughout and cried after. He was so beautiful and it was the best experience of my life so far. The venue itself was really good and where Morrissey was positioned was brilliant because we were stood on the side and still had perfect view. The Lumineers. Bon Iver. Bombay Bicycle Club. Turin Brakes. Charlie Simpson. Father John Misty. The Decemberists. After a quick perusal of the merchandise stall offering scarves, fans, badges and pillowcases as well as the obligatory t-shirts, none of which featured contemporary photographs of Moz , I took my seat early and, if I'm honest, with a little trepidation.
Reviews of earlier shows on the tour had been mixed, with The Guardian very much determined not to enjoy themselves. Also, I'm often a little unsure how gigs in all-seater venues will play out - often, the atmosphere is different, I think. Less of a spark.
And I was concerned that, although my ticket clearly said "Morrissey plus special guests", I had read that the support act was a film show, not a band At precisely 8. To be honest, "film show" is over stating it a bit. YouTube clips spliced together is more accurate.
Throughout this, the bloke sitting next to me kept looking up the songs on Shazam - when he couldn't get a match for the James Brown track, I had to lean over and help him out. He even Shazam'ed the Sex Pistols track, surely one of the least ambiguous tracks of the last fifty years.
But I digress. He cuts a substantial figure these days, does Moz - not fat but no longer the skinny, callow figure of yesteryear. Middle-aged spread comes to us all if you we eat too many pies, even vegetarian pies. And the fabled quiff is largely a thing of the past, a victim of a receding hairline.
But he is still magnetic on stage, owning the space. Dressed top to toe in dark clothes, a string of beads and a dangling key fob completed Morrissey's look. The band, by contrast, were all in white shirts. The stage was lit with neon prefect badge shapes, a nod to the Low In High School theme. The question is, are you? The crowd, predictably, went wild for this, even though many of them weren't alive when it was released.
After this, there was a bit of a pause whilst Moz dispensed with the line of security at the front of the stage who were spoiling the devoted's view, and complained to unseen crew member Max about a spotlight giving him a headache. When it was turned off, he remarked, "Now you can't see me, which is pretty perfect. People are extremely ignorant. They can't be controlled, so don't control them. We may never know. Slightly unexpectedly, for me at least, Munich Air Disaster was next, complete with archive footage of Busby's Babes projected on the back screen.
This was swiftly followed by Home Is A Question Mark, for which Jesse Tobias unleashed an electric string and I got a sudden bout of guitarist's envy. The point was well, if graphically, made.
Quite a lot of people went for drinks. Not me though.
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