Morrissey @ Thanksgiving Point

when he walked on stage last night and the first few notes of 'stop me if you think you've heard this one before' began to bleed out the speakers, it was a clear signal that the mozfather has lost none of his ironic wit. in fact, for a man who spent the better part of his gladioli-in-back-pocket career advancing his self-adoring, lonely poet image, this new found self-depricating humor was almost revelatory. oh, moz, you contradictory old git.

monday night's show @ thanksgiving was my fourth morrissey concert, but the first since 1998 [the other's being park west in 1990, the huntsman center in 1992, and san diego in 1998]. i've passed on other local morrissey shows in recent years, but when i heard this was likely his last u.s. tour for quite some time, i didn't want to miss out on the opportunity. after all, i don't know i would have made it out of my adolescence were it not for the smiths. so, plopping down 45 clams plus ticketmassah's service charges was an insignificant price to pay.

it was as classic a moz show as one might expect. moz appeared from the darkness to rousing applause, trailed by his band who were all dressed in mtaching white pants, brown shirts, and light brown/white[?] bowties. it's nice to see boz boorer is still playing with moz, but i wonder what happened to alain whyte. anyone know? i might have to look that one up. the rest of the band, for their part, looked about five days outta high school, but what they lack in age they more than made up for with their superb musianship.

the set itself was a nice mix of old and new, with equal chunks coming from 'ringleader of the tormenters,' 'you are the quarry,' and 'vauxhall and i.' conspicuously absent were tracks from 'viva hate,' 'your arsenal,' 'maladjusted,' and 'southpaw grammar' [he didn't play anything from 'kill uncle,' but that's ok 'cos that album's a big, fat turkey]. the biggest surprise to me was 'sister i'm poet.' not only is it my favorite moz song, i think it's one of his most underappreciated. i went nuts when i heard it and i might've given barbie whiplash after giving her a good shake and screaming, 'this is my favorite morrissey song!!' 'jack the ripper,' which moz referred to as 'the thoughts of jack the ripper' was also another pleasant surprise. i would've loved to hear 'suedehead' or 'everyday is like sunday,' but i've heard them live before, so i'll have to suffice myself with that. the stars of the show, as they usually are, were the smiths' songs: 'how soon is now,' 'stop me if you think you've heard this one before,' 'stretch out and wait,' and an incredible performance of 'death of a disco dancer.' for me it was the highlight of the show. the night ended with a one-song encore, 'the first of the gang to die.'

between songs moz was downright chatty, offering a few thoughts on 'the munchkin' [george bush] and tony blair, taking a few barbs at rolling stone magazine ['it's not even a music magazine!'], giving the mic to a couple of people in the front row and asking for 'wise' words, and spilling out a few more self-depricating one-liners. [i thought i was going to have to administer cpr to barbie both times he shed his shirt. he is one good-looking and distinguished sonuvagun]. it's always nice when a performer interacts with the crowd instead of remaining essentially a two-dimensional figure.

through it all, however, i couldn't help but feel that mozzer is sensing that his own bright, shining star is begining to fade. i don't think that's necessarily true, but he expressed some surprise with someone in the front row who 'knew all the words.' we all know all the words, moz. we really do!

he may not be the icon he once was, but given the number of kids under the age of twelve i saw there, i don't think his legacy is an any danger. things are just different now. we've all grown up a bit, that's all [there were plenty of thirty- and forty-somethings in attendance]. the once rabid cult-of-moz, instead of storming the stage with reckless abandon and draping its collective arm around his neck, now treats its hero with quiet reverance and respect, and above all, appreciation.

you have nothing to worry about, stephen. everyday is like sunday...

→ morrissey: sister i'm a poet ['everyday is like sunday' b-side] / video
→ morrissey: a good looking man about town ['you have killed me' b-side]
→ the smiths: death of a disco dancer