He goes by a single name, Morrissey. He calls himself a
"prophet for the fourth gender," admits that he's gay, but adds that
he's also celibate. He's got an immense ego, and though he claims
he's from a poor background, he speaks with a very upper-crust
accent. He's also prone to making extravagant statements.
He says, for example, that his native England is in such a deplorable
state that its only hope is that someone will assassinate Prime
Minister Margaret Thatcher. Similarly, he thinks pop music is on
its last legs, and he is convinced that he and his band are the only
people who can save it.
The name of Morrissey's band is the Smiths, and in the past year,
they've become the most talked-about group in Britain. Without
the help of a major record company (the group is signed to the
independent label Rough Trade), the
Smiths have notched up three successive hit singles ("Hand in
Glove," "This Charming Man," and "What Difference Does It Make?"),
while their eponymous album entered the UK charts at Number Two.
All that success, however, hasn't made Morrissey a happy
man. "I think that what we did is quite revolutionary and
historic," says the Smiths'
lead singer, lyricist, and chief spokesman. "We didn't spend a
penny on promotion; we didn't do a video; we didn't take up any
advertising space — all the things the industry says you have to do to
be successful. And I feel quite slighted that our achievement has
been overlooked by the industry.
"People who dislike the group say that I'm terribly arrogant,
but those people don't really interest me. I'm really only
concerned with people who actually like the group, who never say I'm
arrogant. They always say I'm quite confident — which sounds a
little more appealing to the ears. But I can't see any reason to
be shy about the whole thing. I'm terribly proud of this group."
Morrissey is sipping a cup of tea in the living room of his
apartment near the posh Kensington High Street in London. The
room is full of books, but two subjects — James Dean and Oscar Wilde —
predominate. "They [Wilde and Dean] were the only two companions
I had as a distraught teenager," Morrissey explains. "Every line
that Wilde ever wrote affected me so enormously. And James Dean's
lifestyle was always terribly important. It was almost as if I
knew these people quite intimately, and they provided quite a refuge
from everyday slovenly life."
Morrissey's depressed adolescence is a favorite topic.
It almost inevitably comes up in his interviews, and he apparently
hasn't tired of it yet, even though he's now twenty-four.
Morrissey — he says it's his real surname; he "abhors" his first name
and prefers not to divulge it —was born in Manchester, in England's
industrial north. As a small child, he says, "I was quite deliriously
happy. We had no money, but they were naively pleasant
times. But as a teenager, I could never stress how depressed I
was."
Though Morrissey is vague about what exactly caused this
state, it seems that it was a case of ennui. The usual teenage
pastimes —things like sports, or school, or dating — didn't interest
him. Though he hung out on the fringes of the Manchester rock
scene, he was essentially a loner. He wouldn't go to school,
wouldn't get a job. "I lived a hopelessly isolated life, " he
remembers. "I literally never, ever met people. I wouldn't
set foot outside of the house for three weeks on a run." What he
would do was read, write and listen to music. "The power of the
written word really stung me, and I was also entirely immersed in
popular music. I thought the marriage of both things was the
absolute perfect."
Enter Johnny Marr, a young Manchester guitarist. Marr
had been writing songs and needed someone to help with lyrics. He
had heard about Morrissey and decided to approach him to see if he was
interested in writing songs together. By November 1982, their
partnership had evolved into the
Smiths, with Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce being added as bassist
and drummer, respectively.
From the start, Morrissey and Marr's goal was to write songs
that were accessible and thought-provoking. For the most
part, they've succeeded. The music on The Smiths is
simple, guitar-dominated rock. No synthesizers. No fancy
production. The only thing that stops it from being ready for
American radio is Morrissey's voice. He doesn't really sing so
much as he speaks the lyrics in an often droning monotone that can be
irritating.
A sensitive, literate lyricist, Morrissey writes songs that
deal almost exclusively with sex. "It's what most people are
motivated by, whether they're involved in it or not," he says.
And though it would appear that his is largely a homosexual viewpoint,
he explains that it's really not that simple. "The sexes have
been too easily defined. People are so rigidly locked into these two
little categories. I don't know anybody who is absolutely,
exclusively heterosexual. It limits people's potential in so many
areas. I think we should slap down these barriers."
More than anything, Morrissey hopes his songs convey a sense
of passion about humanity and about life. It's something he feels
the world needs. "There's a certain spirit that people now crave
because everybody is depressed. We're moving rapidly into a
sphere that nobody wants to go into. Progress doesn't seem to be
in any degree pleasant. Everything modern is quite foul."
In Morrissey's eyes, nothing is more foul than Margaret
Thatcher, whom he blames for many of Britain's troubles. "The
entire history of Margaret Thatcher is one of violence and oppression
and horror. I think that we must not lie back and cry
about it. She's only one person, and she can be destroyed.
I just pray that there is a Sirhan Sirhan somewhere. It's the
only remedy for the country at the moment."
Right now, Morrissey and the
Smiths' energies are directed toward their home town. Though
their album has been released in America on Sire Records, they're not
in any hurry to ride the British Invasion bandwagon. "It's very
important to me not to fall onto the rock & roll treadmill," says
Morrissey. "The very obvious thing that all groups do is to zip
straight toward America. I want to go to America when we are
wanted there. I'm very, very immersed in England and what's
happening here, and I don't want to leave the country to work anywhere
that might be utterly futile."