REVIEW: MORRISSEY AT PLYMOUTH PAVILIONS (30/06/11)
From the very beginning of his career as the voice of The Smiths, Morrissey has been an extreme example of a love-him-or-hate-him artist. The average Moz fan has no doubt had to suffer abuse, with predictable and tiresome digs from friends who fail (or refuse) to connect with the irony, humour and genius that colour his work. And so, unsurprisingly, there was no lack of love at this almost-sold-out and rare South West performance by The Mozzfather, attended by an audience from a vast age range. Corny as it may sound, it’s a feeling of togetherness.
The lights were dimmed, causing a massive roar, followed by a lengthy drum solo of prog-rock proportions. Then at last, the stage lights were on and shining on the great man himself. The band burst into I Want the One I Can’t Have, from The Smiths’ classic Meat Is Murder album. It was fantastic to hear five more songs from his Smiths days, although the bulk of his set centred on his solo singles, of course. It quickly became obvious that despite his age, Morrissey’s voice is stronger than ever. Every song was belted out with his trademark passion, and the way he emphasises certain words is pure genius. His current 5-piece band is the core of the players on his last album, 2009’s Years of Refusal, including his long-term right-hand-man, Boz Boorer on guitar. The band’s delivery was powerful, and they did justice to his vast and varied repertoire.
Morrissey is consistent in delivering the goods. He creates joy, tragedy and euphoria in the relatively recent I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris, just as he does in There Is A Light That Never Goes Out, from The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead album. And of course, both of these songs (and many others) were greeted with a sea of hands reaching skywards. The highly disturbing visual imagery that accompanied Meat Is Murder made clear the conviction of the man, who has stood by his vegetarian principles throughout his career. And the band’s sonic assault and butchery by use of guitar feedback and thundering drums, hammered the message home further.
After a ram-raid through many more classics (Shoplifters of the World, First of the Gang to Die), the mood was taken down with I Know It’s Over and a cover version of Lou Reed’s Satellite of Love. There was a brief encore with a charged-up rendition of This Charming Man. Just the one song, mind. A lot of bands of his calibre outstay their welcome with encores lasting several songs, but he kept the crowd hoping for more, which is a good thing. So there it was: a British cult legend in action, with a rocking live band and a satisfied crowd of fans. There’s life in the old Handsome Devil yet, of that you can be sure.
Words: Arash Torabi
Photos: Angie Knight
