as a long-term smiths fan it behothes me to purchase pretty much anything morrissey does, and yet i didn't bother with his last album. let's be frank: the thrill had faded somewhat.
obviously it's not fair to expect your idols to remain frozen forever in the exact pose that got you so excited - they have to grow old as do you. and thus morrissey in 2009 is quite different from the skinny lad of 1983: he's filled out and come out. he still has that glint in his eye, but the mancunian chalkiness has been replaced by californian bronze and somehow the chap just looks too damn successful to be convince of us/me of his pain.
his outsider quality was one of his big attractions, and today he's an elder statesman, canonised and eulogised; he may be singing about the emotionally disenfranchised, but personally i no longer feel his pain.
and musically i miss the layered subtleties. i respect his desire to rock out, but do we have to be bludgeoned with it?
that's today's theory anyway.
in reality, when this song comes on the windows are rolled down and the volume turned all the way up. welcome back moz.
::: morrissey - it's not your birthday anymore