headlessparrot's Full Review: You Are The Quarry by Morrissey
Let it be known here and now that Morrissey - former lead singer of the Smiths and current solo artist who just happens to be turning heads lately - is nothing if not suave. Even at his darkest moments with the Smiths - filled with doubt, self-loathing and discomfort, the man radiated style. For further proof, one needs only to look at the cover of his most recent solo album, 2004's You Are The Quarry (re-released not once but twice over the course of ought-four), which carefully depicts the Mozzer in the finest garb: a dapper pinstripe suit and purple tie, arms confidently crossed and a carefully coifed mane of hair, graying at the temples but filled with dignity. Intense, down-turned eyes and uniquely Morrissey half-sneer, half-smile across his carefully washed and shaved face. To say nothing of the Tommy gun confidently resting in his right hand, the image drips with all the style, grace, wit and poise of a latter-day James Bond. The carefully crafted imagery of the album's cover says a thing or two about You Are The Quarry. The smarmy confidence exhibited on the album cover is entirely appropriate given the contents of the album; You Are The Quarry is not only the best album Morrissey has recorded since the break-up of the Smiths, it is also easily one of the best albums of the year and a remarkable statement from a man thought - on more than one occasion - to be a washed up hack. Quarry... is fifty minutes of unmistakable Morrissey; fifty minutes of unmistakably gorgeous pop song writing, fifty minutes of breathtaking production and undeniable proof that Morrissey was always the Lennon to Johnny Marr's McCartney in their song writing partnership. Simply put, You Are The Quarry could very well become the definitive recording of Morrissey's career (Smiths or otherwise).
Especially to indie snobs and music elitists, the production presence of Jerry Finn (better know for work with decidedly un-hip, un-progressive groups such as Blink 182) was and still is a particularly troubling notion to some, but the Finn-Morrissey partnership is somehow oddly prolific in a way that's difficult to put your finger on. Morrissey's carefully considered lyrics and cautiously enunciated vocals are totally and unexpectedly offset by Finn's slick, radio-friendly production, but it is the tension between the words - sparse, cautious, and more than a little rough around the edges - and music - glossy, recklessly overdubbed and almost needlessly baroque - that make Quarry as exciting and fresh as it is. Not only is it totally contrary to what everyone was expecting, but also it's somehow appropriate. The polish and slick style of Finn's mix is identical to the suave, stylish Morrissey on the album's cover and real-life; a man equal parts style and substance, and totally unashamed of it.
Still, it takes some time getting used to. The payoff, however, is tremendous. Morrissey's inimitable vocals - an acid-tongued Las Vegas croon with a touch of a British lilt and tongue-in-cheek wink to the absurdity of his own success - are as powerful as they ever were, perhaps lacking a bit in range, but more than made up for by his careful song construction. And Finn's production is at the very least entertaining, and at it's best, quite pretty. But it's when the two are bottled together that the real magic happens: the scathing political indictment of America Is Not The World, accompanied by a thickly digitized drumbeat and drenched in unnatural amounts of reverb, has been pointed at as heavy-handed and unnecessary. Which I agree with, to an extent. The guttural, spitting of the line, "hey you, fat pig" is about as subtle as a battering ram. Yet the song's repeated final line - "And I love you" - calls the whole song back into question and leaves one to consider the larger ramifications of the whole composition. Irish Blood, English Heart, meanwhile, is a history professor's wet dream, filled with carefully phrased references over a clipped, almost power-pop instrumental track. And the pulsating, gauzy production of I Have Forgiven Jesus perfectly compliments the sadness in Morrissey's voice while he works through his confused sexual identity.
The almost-fifties style crooning of The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores is filled with fear and loathing, lamenting stupidity in all its incarnations over crashing, artificial production, while the frenetic First Of The Gang To Die (long a live Morrissey standard) is a tribute to Morrissey's Hispanic fan base. It chronicles the life of Hector, a sort of equal opportunity Robin Hood, a loveable bad guy who meets in his match in a turf war. The overdubbed harmony and the glossy strummed guitar part is absolutely gorgeous. Meanwhile, Let Me Kiss You is another contemplative ballad, gentle and moving, but with an appropriately 'Morrissey' twist to the proceedings. All The Lazy Dykes, likewise uniquely Morrissey chronicles a housewife turned lesbian, is not told with humour in mind, but with empathy and understanding.
Such is Morrissey's best asset. He knows how to approach each individual song, be it with sympathy, sarcasm or ironic detachment and bemusement. And on You Are The Quarry, he does it even better than usual. Say what you will about Jerry Finn and his production, or about Morrissey trying vainly to stay relevant. The fact is that You Are The Quarry is an artistic peak for Morrissey, brimming with the confidence that he lacked as the shy, restrained Smiths leader. Not only that, but it's a downright fun album; equal parts style and substance.
Just like the man himself.
Originally published at www.musicunderwater.com - check them out.
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