![]() Just as often, it’s Moz’s doing, as he over-peppers his prose with relevant lyrics, sometimes with barely appropriate resonance (after the disastrous LAWSUIT INVOLVING DRUMMER Mike Joyce, “it’s so lonely on a limb”), and frequently with a groan-worthy ham factor (“Could life ever be sane again?” he opines after a squabble with a filmmaker).Īvuncular chuckles aside, the back alleys of back story that make up the book’s first third not only offer some of the book’s lushest language - Moz at his Mozziest - but a fuller understanding of why the steadily stoked despair of his youth was perhaps more effectively conveyed in snatches of song than stretches of prose.Īnd like any of his albums, Morrissey’s story is given to grand overhauls of tone - first tossing and turning between Manchester’s many cruelties and the respite he found in music and poetry then grasping for bearings as the fitful, fateful five-year rise of the Smiths rushes by later lapsing into defiance and frothing defensiveness when outlining his outrage over Joyce’s legal battle for a quarter of the Smiths’ earnings. ![]() Sometimes this is circumstantial - internal flashbulbs may go off as we meet his mother’s sister Jeane (of “Jeane”!), or as we roll through Whalley Range, or as Strangeways prison makes a foreboding early appearance. ![]() For fans, a stroll through the streets of Morrissey’s source material can feel a bit touristy. ![]()
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