As part of an exercise for a creative writing class I attended a couple of years ago, it was suggested that we write something in which we put ourselves in it, in the third person. This is what I wrote:
"I Want the One I Can't Have."
"The idea of perfect health is interesting only in a scientific point of view. Sickness is necessary to individualisation."
- Novalis
I went along to this Morrissey concert not only because I felt, as a seasoned live gig reviewer, that it was about time that I finally got to see such a hugely iconic figure performing live, as so many of my contemporaries have done, but also because I personally have become increasingly fascinated about the devotion that he seems to inspire in so many of his fans. His concerts have gone down in music folk lore as often being riotous, indeed violent, occasions. Militant animal rights activist, vehemently anti-royal, a man that once said that the sorrow of the Brighton bombing was that Thatcher escaped unscathed...this fascinating artist has, it would appear, as many enemies as fans, & my trip to find out more by seeing him in concert led me to understand better than ever just why he means so much to certain people.
Arriving at the venue, I was immediately struck by the different types of fan that he attracts. Ageing indie kids who had loved The Smiths but were now closer to fifty, alternative music fans, a smattering of bequiffed ones &, of course, the football hooligan element, who were busily emptying the bar of Stella whilst singing (very badly) snippets of various choruses. My attention was increasingly drawn however, to the number of individuals who seemed to follow no particular pattern of look or behaviour & looked as if they had landed from a different planet. After all that I had read regarding Morrissey's eternal appeal to outsiders, I have to admit that these were the people I was most interested in & as show time approached, more & more of them emerged as if from shadows, with unmistakable eyes of melancholy & hearts that were full to the brim of that essence that is so difficult to define...a sense of otherness.
After taking my seat in the dress circle, I was soon captivated by a couple who it transpired were actually in the seats next to me. They had all the qualities I have just described in abundance...she was a luscious creature of the night with deep red hair & a clinging mini dress that would have made Lady Gaga flush with envy. The gentlemen with her, in glorious crimson velvet & with a blue flower in his button hole, appeared to be as fragile as a moth's wing. This unusual couple completely commanded my attention at this point, and their story, which I was to discover later, gave me a unique glimpse into why Morrissey can matter so much.
I soon noticed that the gentleman in this partnership had an intravenous valve bandaged in his hand. At this point I was too nervous to engage either of them in conversation & it wouldn't be until the concert had drew to its close that I summoned the courage to talk. Whilst I was busy taking in the atmosphere the house lights were suddenly doused & so began a back drop of film no doubt put together by Morrissey himself. Featuring, amongst other things, Sparks' 'Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth', Edith Sitwell & an enigmatic interview with Lou Reed, who led the press on a merry chase with his vague replies to their questions, the minutes raced by & a great roar suddenly erupted as firstly his band, & then Morrissey himself took to the stage.
Launching immediately into 'I Want the One I Can't Have', Morrissey sang & performed this wonderful song of longing with amazing intensity, rolling his Rs in homage to Berlin cabaret and teasing out the wonderful closing lines:
"And if you ever need self-validation
Just meet me in the alley by the
Railway station..."
before following this with a joy filled rendition of 'You're the One for Me, Fatty', and then bringing us almost up to date with last year's single 'You Have Killed Me.'
It was becoming more obvious to me with each passing minute why Morrissey is held in such high regard by his followers. Although admittedly a bit surly on occasion, I found his waspish wit hugely refreshing, & this aspect of his stage persona made the 'Pope of Mope' tag that he is so often labelled with a complete nonsense. Perhaps more importantly I also found him an absolutely charming & spellbinding performer, & his beautiful baritone voice and languid phrasing at times reminded me of the great Frank Sinatra. He reached out & held the hands of people in the front row & the look on those fortunate souls' faces was something akin to rapture. More than one almost collapsed in tears after touching their idol & with the power of his personality, I could well understand why. As well as the uptempo songs, there was the stunning, autumnal mood of 'I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris', a mesmerising & very moving 'Ouija Board', an eerily prophetic 'Speedway', & probably the icing on the cake of a superb set list, 'I Know it's Over', which Morrissey delivered like a latter day Edith Piaf, his soul laid absolutely bare for all to see.
The mood was about to change dramatically however, & the audience were to witness one of the most powerful & moving works of art I have ever encountered. With the stage drowned in red, the intro to 'Meat is Murder' began & as the song built up, it was mirrored by a film on the backdrop announcing: Meet Your Meat. The harrowing images that followed of animals being brutally slaughtered, sickeningly abused & violated in almost every way (un)imaginable whilst Morrissey sang his heart-broken but furious refrain stunned the entire hall. Almost every person in the audience was shocked into complete silence, & I noticed that some people were actually crying at this point. I also noticed the couple I have mentioned; the lady watched the screen with resolute determination whilst the young man shifted his gaze from the stage to the floor then back to the stage again. It was obvious that this song had touched them deeply...& I was soon to discover that they were both fierce advocates of animal rights, obviously vegetarian and though visibly distressed by the images, were adamant that the realities of meat production & factory farming have to be exposed, otherwise there will be no chance of putting an end to this most heinous of humanity's crimes against non-human animals.
Arriving at the venue, I was immediately struck by the different types of fan that he attracts. Ageing indie kids who had loved The Smiths but were now closer to fifty, alternative music fans, a smattering of bequiffed ones &, of course, the football hooligan element, who were busily emptying the bar of Stella whilst singing (very badly) snippets of various choruses. My attention was increasingly drawn however, to the number of individuals who seemed to follow no particular pattern of look or behaviour & looked as if they had landed from a different planet. After all that I had read regarding Morrissey's eternal appeal to outsiders, I have to admit that these were the people I was most interested in & as show time approached, more & more of them emerged as if from shadows, with unmistakable eyes of melancholy & hearts that were full to the brim of that essence that is so difficult to define...a sense of otherness.
After taking my seat in the dress circle, I was soon captivated by a couple who it transpired were actually in the seats next to me. They had all the qualities I have just described in abundance...she was a luscious creature of the night with deep red hair & a clinging mini dress that would have made Lady Gaga flush with envy. The gentlemen with her, in glorious crimson velvet & with a blue flower in his button hole, appeared to be as fragile as a moth's wing. This unusual couple completely commanded my attention at this point, and their story, which I was to discover later, gave me a unique glimpse into why Morrissey can matter so much.
I soon noticed that the gentleman in this partnership had an intravenous valve bandaged in his hand. At this point I was too nervous to engage either of them in conversation & it wouldn't be until the concert had drew to its close that I summoned the courage to talk. Whilst I was busy taking in the atmosphere the house lights were suddenly doused & so began a back drop of film no doubt put together by Morrissey himself. Featuring, amongst other things, Sparks' 'Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth', Edith Sitwell & an enigmatic interview with Lou Reed, who led the press on a merry chase with his vague replies to their questions, the minutes raced by & a great roar suddenly erupted as firstly his band, & then Morrissey himself took to the stage.
Launching immediately into 'I Want the One I Can't Have', Morrissey sang & performed this wonderful song of longing with amazing intensity, rolling his Rs in homage to Berlin cabaret and teasing out the wonderful closing lines:
"And if you ever need self-validation
Just meet me in the alley by the
Railway station..."
before following this with a joy filled rendition of 'You're the One for Me, Fatty', and then bringing us almost up to date with last year's single 'You Have Killed Me.'
It was becoming more obvious to me with each passing minute why Morrissey is held in such high regard by his followers. Although admittedly a bit surly on occasion, I found his waspish wit hugely refreshing, & this aspect of his stage persona made the 'Pope of Mope' tag that he is so often labelled with a complete nonsense. Perhaps more importantly I also found him an absolutely charming & spellbinding performer, & his beautiful baritone voice and languid phrasing at times reminded me of the great Frank Sinatra. He reached out & held the hands of people in the front row & the look on those fortunate souls' faces was something akin to rapture. More than one almost collapsed in tears after touching their idol & with the power of his personality, I could well understand why. As well as the uptempo songs, there was the stunning, autumnal mood of 'I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris', a mesmerising & very moving 'Ouija Board', an eerily prophetic 'Speedway', & probably the icing on the cake of a superb set list, 'I Know it's Over', which Morrissey delivered like a latter day Edith Piaf, his soul laid absolutely bare for all to see.
The mood was about to change dramatically however, & the audience were to witness one of the most powerful & moving works of art I have ever encountered. With the stage drowned in red, the intro to 'Meat is Murder' began & as the song built up, it was mirrored by a film on the backdrop announcing: Meet Your Meat. The harrowing images that followed of animals being brutally slaughtered, sickeningly abused & violated in almost every way (un)imaginable whilst Morrissey sang his heart-broken but furious refrain stunned the entire hall. Almost every person in the audience was shocked into complete silence, & I noticed that some people were actually crying at this point. I also noticed the couple I have mentioned; the lady watched the screen with resolute determination whilst the young man shifted his gaze from the stage to the floor then back to the stage again. It was obvious that this song had touched them deeply...& I was soon to discover that they were both fierce advocates of animal rights, obviously vegetarian and though visibly distressed by the images, were adamant that the realities of meat production & factory farming have to be exposed, otherwise there will be no chance of putting an end to this most heinous of humanity's crimes against non-human animals.
Morrissey then lifted the mood again as the show waltzed towards its climax, and returning for a one song encore of Smiths classic, 'Panic', the atmosphere reached fever pitch as the audience sang each and every word, which ended with Morrissey crawling off the stage like a dying prima donna in a great opera. Never let it be said that Morrissey has no sense of theatre! It was a suitably dramatic ending to a concert that had tugged at the heartstrings and tickled the funnybones throughout. And with that, people embraced, & as Klaus Nomi's 'Death' reverberated from the speakers, they began to drift away from the auditorium.
Outside in the foyer bar, I finally plucked up the courage to talk to the divine creature with red hair (my curiosity was nearly killing me by this time!) to ask what she'd thought of the concert & find out a bit more about her & the gentleman that was with her. As well as falling immediately & irrevocably in love with her (her name was Betty - after her heroine in the film Betty Blue) on the spot, I also discovered the kind of individual story that makes an evening like this all the more unforgettable.
It transpired that the young man (George) had only just been able to make it to the concert. He was currently an in-patient in hospital & was receiving treatment for his illness, cystic fibrosis. Full of IV antibiotics & steroids, he had just about persuaded the doctors to let him attend the concert, but only on condition that he return to the hospital immediately after it had finished to continue treatment. Talking to her about Morrissey gave me a unique insight into why he means so much to them. George, as can be easily imagined, doesn't really fit in to the society we have created & Morrissey's songs so often hold out a candle to people who feel that way. Betty described his condition & the treatment that is constantly required & talked of the devotion that she & George had for each other.
I asked her how she'd felt about the version of 'Meat is Murder' that we'd all just seen & she replied that whilst it was very distressing to watch, she felt it should be made compulsory viewing so that people would understand the reality of the dreadful suffering that goes on if they choose to have meat in their diet.
Thankful to be in the glow of such an enchanting & scintillating siren, I pestered her with question after question, desperate for our encounter to last as long as possible. Her answers left me reeling with wonder time after time. Her graceful talk of spirit, compassion, energy, tai chi, Eastern philosophy, glam & glitter lit up the conversation like the most incredible fireworks on a pitch black night sky. As we chatted & I gazed at her, thoroughly enraptured, George then appeared through the throng of people and wandered slowly over to sit with us. He was quite frail & the bandage only slightly covered the IV port in his hand. I thought about how different it must be to live in a world where health is a constant problem. Someone once said that nobody notices their health until it is taken away & I think that there is a deep truth in that. Despite all, however, I was struck by the fierce glow that shone in the eyes of them both, and of their obvious deep love for each other. Lingering looks, softly held hands, whispered words that settled on their eyelashes...they were like a couple in the first blooms of love rather than the ten years that Betty had said earlier that they had been together for. Despite my sadness that Betty's heart belonged to George, I wanted to know more & showered him with questions also. He described how he believed that Morrissey was in so many ways misunderstood. He described him as being a 'true poet', of which the world was sorely lacking, and was un-moving in his opinion that Morrissey's fierce stance on animal protectionism was born of love, no matter how it is interpreted. "Most people don't love or hate animals, they're just indifferent to them," he said. "To be as angry as Morrissey is about their treatment is to be emotionally and intellectually alive. Unfortunately, most people aren't & when this is coupled with a complete lack of imagination & empathy, the result is abominations like factory farming." He also talked about his love of literature & of his current obsession with the work & life of the Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Betty left us for a few minutes to go to the cloak room & I asked George about his relationship with her. His eyes glowed deeply & he said with a smile & with a hint of Richard Burton in his voice, "You've already fallen in love with her too, haven't you?" I blushed slightly & looked at the ground, but he smiled & said that Betty had this wondrous effect on many people. "I'm well aware of it because I'm as smitten as anyone!" he laughed gently. "You know, Betty's like the sun & those who are sensitive to her astonishing beauty just orbit around her. She gives out incredible energy & she has that rarest of gifts...she encourages people to be the very best version they can ever be of themselves. She certainly taught me how to dream again. She's always a mystery and... (he paused here for a second without finishing his sentence, and with a flirtatious smile concluded), "but I think you have already discovered all of this already!"
Betty then returned & waxed lyrical & swooned over James's singer Tim Booth, (George joked that she was only with him because, as yet, she hadn't been able marry Boothy himself!) and we talked of life, death & all the bits in-between like old friends. I wished our time together could have lasted throughout the night but, alas, it wasn't to be. We shook hands & said our goodbyes, and as I watched them walk slowly away into the night, hand in hand together, I felt an enormous stab of pain in realising that I would probably never see Betty again. It was as if she'd walked straight out of a dream or even a Suede song, & that it was only in a dream or in a Suede song that I would ever find her again. Despite my envy, I was genuinely delighted for George, though, as there was no mistaking the fact that they were a truly beautiful couple.
And then suddenly, & as if from a part of my mind beyond my control, I recalled the words of the opening song of the evening & the power of those words & the melody struck me like a lightning bolt...
"'Cause I want the one I can't have,
And it's driving me mad!
And it's written
All over my face."
And then, all at once, & with absolute lucidity, I realised Morrissey's particular genius & just what it is that he does that endears him to people so fervently. For he had transcribed the deep longing of emotion that I was feeling at this very moment into the art of a magnificent song. And that's what he continues to do...a song for every feeling & nuance that are inherent in the wide range of human emotions.
But life has changed for me now. The mesmerising Betty haunts my every moment. Not an evening passes where I don't remember her beautiful deep brown eyes, her wonderful, life-affirming conversation about lifeforce and energy, & her ballet dancer-like legs that shimmered in black lace tights from beneath the most perfect dress that I have ever seen...affording a teasing glimpse of pleasures unimaginable... those, to quote George's poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, that lie beyond the milk of paradise...
And every night I now toss & turn, wondering if she'll ever give me validation & meet me in the alley by the railway station...
Despite knowing that will almost certainly forever remain an impossibility.
And then of course the refrain starts up again & repeats...
"I want the one I can't have, and it's driving me mad...and it's written all over my face..."
Be Handsome. Stay Beautiful.
Let Me Kiss You (Live):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNVAPARSO_0
Everyday is Like Sunday (Live)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-8AR7XQ2K4
Everyday is Like Sunday (Live)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-8AR7XQ2K4
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