Daniel Kemp's Album Reviews
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The Smiths
 
They recorded for a few years, then it all ended in tears...
Albums
 
The Smiths (1984)
 
 
7/10
 
Producer: John Porter, The Smiths
 
  1. Reel Around the Fountain
  2. You’ve Got Everything Now
  3. Miserable Lie
  4. Pretty Girls Make Graves
  5. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
  6. This Charming Man
  7. Still Ill
  8. Hand in Glove
  9. What Difference Does It Make?
  10. I Don’t Owe You Anything
  11. Suffer Little Children
The Smiths was the partnership of lyricist/vocalist Steven Patrick Morrissey, guitarist John Maher (later to be changed to Johnny Marr), bassist Andy Rourke and drummer Mike Joyce.  Although to be more accurate, the only partnership of any consequence within the band is that of Morrissey and Marr.  With the former’s self-deprecating, yet, witty lyrics, and the latter’s discerning guitar work, they were to go down as one of the greatest song-writing duos in history.  And this is where it all started, their self-titled debut album, The Smiths.
 

The first single to be released by The Smiths was Hand in Glove, which is featured here; although this version is recorded at a lower tone and features a shorter introduction than its single counterpart.  “For the good life is out there somewhere, so stay on my arm you little charmer, but I know my luck too well and I’ll probably never see you again”, sings Morrissey, immediately presenting himself to be a most unique individual.  You may be thinking, ‘Since when was it advantageous to use such noticeably cheerless lyrics as this in your debut single?’ Ha! But this is The Smiths and we are no longer playing things by the book my friend!  The well arranged guitar work is buried somewhat under the awful production values, but the blasts on the harmonica fit into place perfectly on this firm favourite of British DJ John Peel.
 

Although not originally included on the UK release, This Charming Man is now available as standard on all copies of The Smiths.  Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the better songs on the album, mainly because the production isn’t anywhere near as hideous as on some of the songs which feature on the original tracklisting.  Johnny Marr’s guitar work perfectly sums up why this band is one of the most important to ever walk the earth and Morrissey’s incredibly introspective lyrics help turn it into a gem.  This is how all indie music should sound.
 

As good as This Charming Man is, my favourite single is Still Ill.  Johnny Marr’s guitar is back to kick some serious rump and Morrissey is on top form both lyrically and vocally. He tries to reason, “Does the body rule the mind, or does the mind rule the body? I don’t know…” It is without a doubt one of the best songs on the album.
 
Now, you’ve heard me mention the bad production on The Smiths a couple of times throughout my review so far, so allow me to elaborate on this a little further.  Imagine having a set of songs jam packed full of wonderful, cutting edge lyrics.  Imagine having a band which features a rhythm section with the dexterity of an 8-armed Jimi Hendrix and a guitarist who is arguably as talented as said musician.  Then imagine that you fire the original producer of your debut album because you were unsatisfied with his work, and instead you hire a new producer to get the job done properly.  Now, I haven’t heard the original bootleg tapes of The Smiths, and neither do I want to, because if they are half as bad as this final product is I will leap from the roof of a ten-storey building.
 

I must reiterate just how bad the production is on this LP.  It honestly sounds as if they were given a 50p budget and a tin shack to record the album in.  You can still appreciate the songs on offer here because of the strength of the song writing, but you do have to work extra hard to get pleasure out of the album.  Albums can either be made or broken by their production techniques and values, and the almost lackadaisical effort put into The Smiths is something which I cannot forgive. And accordingly, it loses a couple of brownie points right there.
 

Anyway, back to the songs, as there are still a couple of golden moments on the album.
 

The fantastic Pretty Girls Make Graves is on the first side of the LP and it lays a template for one of Morrissey’s most featured lyrical themes – celibacy and/or genderless lyrics.  Morrissey tells us of the temptation he was subjected to by the main protagonist of the song: “Upon the sand, upon the bay, there is a quick and easy way you say. Before you illustrate, I’d rather state, (that) I’m not the man you think I am.” I don’t know about you, but I find that Andy Rourke’s curious bass line provides the main structure of this song and everything else is merely a nice addition.  The Hand That Rocks the Cradle is rarely mentioned and is never shortlisted for compilation albums by The Smiths, which is a real shame, as it is one of the most demonstratively affectionate songs of Morrissey’s entire career.  In a standout vocal performance he comforts his afraid child, “My life down I shall lie if the bogeyman should try, to play tricks on your sacred mind. The trees torment and tantalise, wavering shadows loom and a piano plays in an empty room…” It is a very beautiful moment on the LP and once again I cannot stress the quality of this song enough.
 

The album closes with Suffer Little Children, a chilling account of the acts of the Moors’ Murderers, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley.  If you’re going to pick a subject matter which is quite so horrific, you have to make sure that you can do the area under discussion justice, so I am pleased to report that the music is nothing short of miraculous and comforting in its sentiments.  While it pains me to admit it, it has to be said that the stripped bare production values work in this song’s favour and manage to highlight another top-notch turn from Morrissey’s vocal chords.
 

All things considered, there is a great album waiting to be found here, but as I said before, you really do have to work for it.  I have no problems with the song-writing whatsoever, so after taking this into consideration, I feel that my score reflects both my feelings towards the lacklustre and unappealing production of The Smiths, and the recognised birth of an extraordinary band.

 
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Meat is Murder (1985)
 
 
 
8/10
 
Producer: The Smiths
  1. The Headmaster Ritual
  2. Rusholme Ruffians
  3. I Want the One I Can’t Have
  4. What She Said
  5. That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore
  6. How Soon Is Now?
  7. Nowhere Fast
  8. Well I Wonder
  9. Barbarism Starts At Home
  10. Meat Is Murder
Meat is Murder is the second studio album by The Smiths.  Released in the February of 1985, it became their only album to reach number 1 in the UK chart while they were still together.  I can joyfully report that the atrocious production that had marred (haha!) their debut album has now been done away with.  The production, this time around, really does the album justice and almost every track sounds as if it has been exploited for its full potential.
 
Although it had been confirmed with 1984’s compilation album, Hatful of Hollow, this is certainly the first time on a Smiths’ studio album that you truly get to experience the excellent songwriting partnership between Morrissey and Marr.  Johnny Marr’s guitar lines have improved vastly from the debut, intertwining with Morrissey’s lyrics better than ever.   Let us not forget the rhythm section though, as Andy Rourke’s Bass is always a very prominent factor in the 10 song set.
 

One of the best songs featured here, How Soon Is Now?, had appeared a year earlier on the aforementioned Hatful of Hollow.  Incredibly, it had originally been thrown away as the B-side to William, It Was Really Nothing.  The fact that the band could afford to dispose of How Soon Is Now? as a B-side, only confirms that the quality of music the band released during their lifetime was almost unrivalled.  How Soon Is Now? will remain until the end of time for the simple fact that the majority of people can relate to it better than any other song.  The lyrics, “You shut your mouth! How can you say I go about things the wrong way? I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does!”, made thousands of hapless romantics around the world thank their stars that if nobody else understood their emotions, at least Morrissey did.  Johnny Marr’s oscillating guitar chords reverberate in your mind long after the song finishes, and Andy Rourke’s funk bass drives the song to another level.  It is all very nice indeed and it is one of the band’s best songs.
 

What quickly becomes apparent upon multiple hearings of this album is that Morrissey was developing a very keen eye for observations.  For example, take this lyric from the rockabilly Rusholme Ruffians, “Scratch your name on my arm with a fountain pen, this means, you really love me...” Now you cannot tell me that such a verse does not recall a thousand schooldays of misspent youth pining after your favourite crush?  Needless to say, Morrissey’s greatest attribute as a songwriter is his ability to connect with the average Joe via his down to earth lyrics.
 

The band’s eighth single, That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore, is one of the highlights of the album.  The production is crystal clear and a great deal of emphasis is brought upon Morrissey’s superb vocal performance.  In addition to this, Marr’s lone acoustic guitar intro acts as the perfect partner.

 
Well I Wonder is the one time that the laughter stops throughout the album and we are left with pure, unadulterated emotion and tear inducing lyrics. Underpinned by prominent bass lines, acoustic guitar and Morrissey’s heartbreaking vocals, it is an emotionally expressive tour de force.  In comparison, Nowhere Fast is the album’s definitive comedic moment. The rebellious lyrics, “I’d like to drop my trousers to the queen, every sensible child will know what this means, the poor and the needy are selfish and greedy- on her terms”, will likely evoke tears once more, if only ones of laughter.  The only time the album really drops the ball is on the fourth track, What She Said.  The production isn’t up to scratch here and Johnny Marr’s guitar work in particular seems to suffer, as it is almost entirely lost under a mess of unnecessary distortion effects.
 

Morrissey’s anti meat-eater dirge, Meat is Murder, closes the album in a fine way.  Apparently this song alone has turned more people into vegetarians than any other! I can believe it too, I myself attempted conversion to the green side after I had heard the song.  Unfortunately, I lasted about a week.  Damn Mum and her freshly cooked lamb chops! I couldn’t resist!   The unsettling intro is overdubbed with the sound of an Abattoir and what sounds like a saw going in for the kill.  I feel that the band is to be commended for making such a bold statement.

 

To sum up, Meat is Murder is The Smiths’ first great studio album.  It combines great vocals, stellar guitar work and witty lyrics that are second to none.  While the previous year’s Hatful of Hollow is markedly better, this is a fine place to start a Smiths’ collection.
 
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The Queen Is Dead (1986)
 
 
 
Producer: Morrissey, Johnny Marr
 
10/10
  1. The Queen Is Dead
  2. Frankly, Mr. Shankly
  3. I Know It’s Over
  4. Never Had No One Ever
  5. Cemetry Gates
  6. Bigmouth Strikes Again
  7. The Boy With the Thorn in His Side
  8. Vicar in a Tutu
  9. There Is a Light That Never Goes Out
  10. Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others  

Recorded in December 1985, The Queen Is Dead is the third studio album by The Smiths.  However, due to legal reasons the album would not be released until the June of the following year.  As well documented, the band was experiencing substantial difficulties at the time of recording.  The fact that The Smiths were without a constant manager and were having to contend with bassist Andy Rourke’s heroin habit only makes the quality of the final product all the more remarkable. And make no mistake; The Queen Is Dead is a masterpiece.

 

Where better to start talking about this prolific band’s magnum opus than with the opening title-track.  The previous Smiths’ studio album, Meat Is Murder, opened with a barrage of jangly guitars and the hilarious denunciation which is The Headmaster Ritual.  Once again, you are immediately made aware that The Smiths are taking no prisoners here, as drummer Mike Joyce delivers an inherently archaic introduction and Morrissey brutally mauls the Royal Family with his venomous tongue.  Marr’s salvo of overdubbed guitars leaves the listener startled yet thrilled.  Among other problems, the disputes between Morrissey, Marr and Rough Trade record label owner, Geoff Travis, reached a head; the result was Frankly, Mr. Shankly.  A hilarious and in turn bitter refusal to conform to what was expected of him, Morrissey has rarely been as unsympathetic as he is here, “Frankly, Mr. Shankly since you asked, you are a flatulent pain in the arse.  I don’t mean to be so rude; still I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly!”

 

Surely the greatest song ever written, I Know It’s Over proudly sits as the leader of the pack on the first side of The Queen Is Dead.  I encourage everyone - even confirmed haters of Morrissey - to give this song a play through.  A shattering tale of a burning desire for companionship, Morrissey has never sounded in finer voice; you hang on every word he says as he relays his tale of an excruciating loneliness.  Already a well established master of designing song structure, Marr’s minimalist arrangement as found on I Know It’s Over would eclipse everything else in the band’s catalogue.  “I know it’s over… and it never really began! In my heart it was so real,” deplores Morrissey, “and you even spoke to me and said, ‘If you’re so funny, then why are you on your own tonight?’ ”  Never again will a song convey the very essence of emptiness and the true meaning of discontentment as well as I Know It’s Over.  It is truly heartbreaking and has reduced me to tears on more than one occasion.

 

The drolly titled Cemetry Gates is incredibly uplifting.  Morrissey flaunts his well read capabilities during this mirthful tale of plagiarism for the sole purpose of celebrity status.  As Morrissey brings out the wild card of a love of Oscar Wilde against his adversary’s love of Keats & Yates, you know you are listening to a genius at work.

 

The unsettling Bigmouth Strikes Again sees Morrissey vent his frustration at being hounded by the media for gossip.  Not your typical protest, Morrissey has made his retaliation personal and cruel, “Sweetness, I was only joking when I said I’d like to smash every tooth in your head!”  Johnny Marr unleashes some of his most terrifically awesome guitar work ever; a special mention has to go to his versatile playing during the chorus.  The Boy With the Thorn In His Side had originally been released the previous year to preview the album, and as mentioned at the outset the album was then delayed for legal reasons.  This gave Morrissey & Marr time to provide an alternate mix of this little treasure, one which stands tall next to its single counterpart.  Of course, the main reason to see this gorgeous pop gem through to the end is to hear Morrissey’s sumptuous yodelling.

 

The rockabilly Vicar in a Tutu no doubt caused quite a stir at the time of release.  I can only see two possible readings of this song.  The first is if you take it at face value – a hilarious tale of a vicar wanting to break free from his constraints, so much so that he prances around in a tutu.  The second is that Morrissey is showing up the pomposity of Christendom, and the ‘tutu’ of the song could be making light of its leaders’ often fanciful dress sense over genuine concern of religion.  Whichever, it’s fantastic.

 

I couldn’t believe it when I first discovered that There Is a Light That Never Goes Out hadn’t been released as a single until 1992, a full five years after the band had split.  Rivalling I Know It’s Over for greatest song of all time, the band once again outdo themselves with this tale of a desperate yearning for an unspoken romance.  The darkly humorous, yet emotionally cataclysmic chorus harmonizes beautifully with Morrissey’s unbelievable vocal performance, “And if a Double Decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die! And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us, to die by your side, well, the privilege and the pleasure is mine!” Win, win, win, baby!

 

The album is brought to a close with the attentive declaration of Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others.  Morrissey’s frivolity is only one of its keys to success, Marr’s hypnotic and soothing arrangement another.  Sagaciously reserved while remaining a definite statement, it winds the album down wonderfully, and when the song is taken to a fade out, you wish that you could be taken along with them.

 

Critics have long considered The Queen Is Dead to be the finest of all The Smiths’ studio albums.  I’m only going to add to that wave of mass hysteria and encourage you to buy this masterwork at your next opportunity.  It is without a doubt one of the finest albums ever recorded and every second of it is an adventure.  As satisfying as an epic piece of cinema, it will stick with you forever.  There is something for everyone here.
 
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Strangeways, Here We Come (1987)
 
 
9/10
 
Producer: Johnny Marr, Morrissey, Stephen Street
  1. A Rush and a Push and the Land Is Ours
  2. I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish
  3. Death of a Disco Dancer
  4. Girlfriend in a Coma
  5. Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before
  6. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
  7. Unhappy Birthday
  8. Paint a Vulgar Picture
  9. Death at One’s Elbow
  10. I Won’t Share You

Strangeways, Here We Come is the fourth and final studio album by The Smiths.  The album gets its title from Manchester’s notorious HM Prison (previously known as Strangeways Prison, until it was renamed in the 1990s).  To my way of thinking this is the most varied and diverse album by The Smiths and had the band not split up just before Strangeway’s release, they would have been looking forward to a very positive future.  Johnny Marr had started playing around with a synthesiser for this release and he credits all strings and saxophone arrangements to Orchestrazia Ardwick, but in reality this was a fictional institute and was none other than Marr himself operating under an alias.  Such is the out of character nature of this record that Morrissey even plucks up the courage to play the piano on Death of a Disco Dancer.

 
Oh how I love the opening track to Strangeways, A Rush and a Push and the Land Is Ours.  The jaunty and exuberant tendencies of this track set a high watermark for the rest of the record to reach; this is mainly down to Marr’s playful piano work and fruity percussion arrangements.  The vocals are brought to you with a real sense of vehemence, “They said there’s too much caffeine in your bloodstream and a lack of real spice in your life”, and then Mozza adds humorously, “Leave me alone because I’m alright, Dad.”  It is certainly one of their best recordings; not something to be scoffed out when considering the consistently high quality of this band’s output in such a short space of time.  Second track and second single to be released from the album, I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish, continues things in a big way and features one of Marr’s hardest rock riffs.  Morrissey courageously broadcasts the following, “I grabbed you by the gilded beams; this is what tradition means!”
 

The only song on the album which I cannot warm to is Death of a Disco Dancer.  It’s not because of Morrissey’s jokey piano playing (far from it), but because rather the atmosphere is so turned down and mellow it just feels too wide of the mark after the invigorating start to the album.  The last thing I want is the cold shower of Death of a Disco Dancer.  Anyway, my complaints are over and after all is said and done it is still perfectly listenable.
 

First single to be released from the album was the ingeniously titled Girlfriend in a Coma.  This song could actually be pinpointed as the end of Marr and Morrissey’s working relationship –essentially the end of The Smiths – as Morrissey insisted on including a Cilla Black cover as one of the song’s b-sides, much to Marr’s exasperation.  Idiotic people who don’t know what is good for them will tell you, “Girlfriend in a Coma is SO depressing…” But the clever ones among you will be a witness to Morrissey’s delightful sledgehammer wit.  Oh, the song also features some of Marr’s most comprehensive guitar work and clocking in at barely 2 minutes it is a pop gem.
 

If you only know the Mark Ronson & Daniel Merriweather rendition of Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before you need working on.  There is one thing that I want to get straight here: Mark Ronson and Daniel Merriweather butchered this song and if you actually enjoy it more than the original I wish all of the Biblical plagues upon you.  As for the Morrissey & Marr original, what a thing of beauty! The musicianship featured here is magnificent and really shows that The Smiths were showing no signs of slowing down in their final moments.  The lyrics are forward-looking and some of Morrissey’s best, “I was detained, I was restrained, and (he) broke my spleen and broke my knee and then he really lays into me!”
 

The Music Industry-baiting Paint a Vulgar Picture has one of the catchiest melodies on the album, with Marr’s rhythm guitar setting a new standard for indie rockers the world over.  Morrissey has such a keen eye for observations and he has never written anything quite as detailed and venomous as this.  Of course, there is something faintly ironic about Morrissey yelling “Re-issue, re-package” when evaluating this album in the same year that two of his solo albums have been re-issued and re-released.  Is it the album’s most noteworthy song? Most probably, yes.  The free-for-all harmonica party of Death at One’s Elbow provides a relatively light moment of humour when placed amongst all the other hard-hitting tales.  How is it humorous? Well, take this excerpt, “Oh Glen, don’t come to the house tonight… because there’s someone here who’ll take a hatchet to your ear!”  A classic Morrissey lyric if ever I saw one!
 

When considering that this would be the last Smiths’ record, it is fitting that Morrissey & Marr would close the album with a track entitled I Won’t Share You.  Drummer Mike Joyce sits this one out and you can scarcely hear Andy Rourke’s mellow bass work, so this is essentially Morrissey serenading Marr, as he plays his guitar in one final act of cooperation.  One of the band’s most beautiful ballads, this blissful acoustic tragedy brings Strangeways - and indeed the band’s entire career - full-circle and to a fitting close.
 

While critics usually pine over the previous Smiths’ studio album, Strangeways, Here We Come isn’t all that far behind where quality is concerned and in my eyes it makes for another classic album.
 
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