Track by track, here’s my account of the new Morrissey album, You Are the Quarry.
America Is Not the World
A track detailing some of the shaming hypocrisies of America. I must admit, until about halfway into this track, I was sort of thinking, “Dude, Morrissey, don’t you live in L.A.? Love it or leave it, man.” But he ends the song telling America “I love you, I love you,” either inspite of its’ faults or maybe because of.
Irish Blood, English Heart
A good counterpoint to the first track, IBEH discusses Morrissey’s issues with the British government, including the monarchy. He mentions Oliver Cromwell, and this is one of the reasons why I love him. Because, for a pop song, that is fucking arcane.
I Have Forgiven Jesus
There’s a theme developing in the album. Morrissey, perhaps due to his middle age, seems to be coming to terms with matters that, in previous albums, he would have railed more vehemently against. In this track, Morrissey sings about the sense of abandonment one gets when childhood faith in God flies away. And while you might still demand answers, it’s just no use.
Come Back to Camden
Such a typical Morrissey tune. Your heart will curdle with pain listening to this song. At this point, I’m at my most secure, happiest ever, and still, Morrissey is able to fill me with the memory of past desolation. And while many people would run from this, the Morrissey fan fucking revels in it.
I’m Not Sorry
This one of the few — if not the only — Morrissey songs I can see having sex to. Having sex with the Smiths or other Morrissey in the background is just too Breakfast Club for me, but this is a different song. Sexy, but still sad.
The World Is Full of Crashing Bores
Love it, love it. Have listened to it about ten times. Bitterness and seclusion mask a deep desire to be loved! Yes, yes! “Take me in your arms and love me!” he demands. “This world — I am afraid — is designed for crashing bores,” and he insists he is not one.
How Can Anybody Possible Know How I Feel?
A mix of paranoia and prescience, here Morrissey questions the motives of everyone who likes, admires, or polices him. And maybe this about being a star, but I’d like to think everyone comes to these conclusions. I certainly have. People are terribly hard to trust, harder to decipher, and occasionally, hard to respect. “Even I / as sick as I am / I would never be you.”
First of the Gang to Die
Ok, this is a neat one. Hector’s story, a gangmember, “the first of the gang / with a gun in his hand / the first to do time / the first of the gang to die.” Good story, but it’s interesting he wrote this one. Morrissey lives in LA and most of his fanbase in SoCal is Hispanic kids of all backgrounds: bruisers, drama kids, etc. I wonder if this sort of acknowledges this weird fan-idol combo.
Let Me Kiss You
You know that feeling, when you just love someone and you know they don’t love you, much less like you. But you are desperate, can’t move your attentions away? Drowning in loneliness, wasting away for physical affection? This is your song, you sad son of a bitch.
All the Lazy Dykes
Oh, Morrissey, I too have this issue with this segment of the lesbian community. Whenever you encounter a group really into who/what they are (recovering addicts, i’ve found are also like this) are really santci-fucking-monious about their particular thing, that they know you better than you do yourself. This song is from the POV of those dykes who are just sure that one day, you’ll leave your husband and “join the girls.” He namechecks this lesbian bar, The Palms, that this author has been to several times.
I Like You
This is dancey. I am dancing to this, sans gladioli. It’s actually a danceable song. How weird. And it’s all about how when you really like someone, you’ll let them get away with shit you wouldn’t dream of.
You Know It Couldn’t Last
The last, longest, and perhaps weakest track. It’s a torchy number, containing this line “Don’t let the blue eyes fool you / They’re just gelignite.” Fucking arcane. Gelignite, it seems, is an explosive mixture composed of nitroglycerine, guncotton, wood pulp, and potassium nitrate. Evocative. Does every musician have to put a track on their album about how hard it is to be a pop star? This is, admittedly, a fine one. It must be difficult to be revered then forgotten. “Teenagers who love you / they will wake up / Yawn and kill you.” And yet, Morrissey includes jabs at critics, and references about his royalty battles with former bandmates.
All in all, YATQ is fabulous, better than Maladjusted, for sure. It’s a more mature, level-eyed look at the world. I think many people originally liked Morrissey for the woe-is-me quality of his music and find it hard to age and listen to the same sad songs. But this album melds woe with shoulder-shrugging, as well as the learned wit Morrissey always brings to his songs. Plus, the music is just richer than past albums.
And the cover image? Morrissey is holding up well. And I should know, as I recently saw him shirtless.