Is it really so strange?
Please, Please, Please
As I’m sure I’ve mentioned in here before I have always been – for better or worse – a big The Smiths guy. I had the chance to interview 3/4 of the band over the years. I wrote an article for Vice once about rushing the stage at a Morrissey concert and touching his hand and crying over it (which you can read below.) Uh don’t ask how old I was at the time. I also saw Johnny play a few years ago and cried over that too. I played in a The Smiths cover band for a bit and my last band was called no hope/no harm after one of their lyrics. I also unfortunately have a couple of The Smiths tattoos including a big Morrissey portrait on my shoulder. All of which is probably why the CBC program Commotion wanted me to come on and talk about The Smiths being played at Trump rallies lately. Long story short: Eh. That basically checks out.
Me and the host Elamin Abdelmahmoud had a good chat. You can listen to it here or read it below.
Elamin: You have heard this story before. Politicians hold a rally, and then they play a song, then the fans and the band are completely outraged. It seems like there’s one of these stories every election cycle, but this time it feels different. Take a listen:
That is Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths. That song is from 1984, but what you just heard is that song being played at a rally for Donald Trump. But you heard some fans, some people singing in the background. But also, a lot of fans of The Smiths are really fired up. Mostly because of what The Smiths’ music meant to fans in the 80s, and what these songs said about their identity. And how strange it is to hear these songs played at a Trump rally. But is it that surprising? The band’s lead singer Morrissey has been pretty outspoken since the band broke up, and he’s taken some pretty controversial views on things. Here to explain how we got here is journalist and author, and I assume long suffering The Smiths fan Luke O’Neil.
Before we get into this Trump thing, let’s talk about what The Smiths music represented to fans like you. If you met another person who listens to The Smiths you go, oh, we have something in common. What does that mean?
Luke: Sure. They were one of the more beloved and influential bands of their time, and they continue to be, so it’s not like they’re this super niche thing, but the stereotype of The Smiths fan was always a sort of melancholy loner, or sad artsy type, always pining for unrequited love. Something that was captured very well in the lyrics. It’s not like it’s some secret club. Again, they’re a very famous band, but it is a nice basis for friendship, if you met someone with a similar affinity for the band.
Elamin: The saddest lyrics you ever heard and people connecting over those lyrics. That’s a beautiful basis for connection. What do you make of the fact that The Smiths are now this central part of Trump rallies?
Luke: It’s funny, you said up top, is it really strange, and that happens to be the name of The Smiths song Is It Really So Strange? But this is a bit more complicated than some of the stories that you hear like this every election cycle. Whether it’s Rage Against the Machine or Bruce Springsteen or someone like that whose politics clearly differ from whatever the Republican might be. In this case, Morrissey, and this surprises me, he’s not a fan of Trump. He’s said some anti-Trump things over the years. But like you alluded to he’s also spent the past ten, twenty years sharing xenophobic, anti-immigrant, sometimes downright racist comments that sort of align with a lot of the types of things Trump and his fans believe in.
Morrissey is also a blowhard who loves the sound of his own voice, and will do anything to get attention. Does that sound like someone else we know?
Elamin: I have to say, every time Morrissey the name is trending on Twitter, you see fans of The Smiths in complete despair. Oh no. It’s happening again. The person who gave voice to so much of our loneliness and heartbreak has once again said a thing that is going to frustrate me and everyone I know. It’s almost a recurring part of the news cycle every year. You get into the summer and you go what’s Morrissey going to say that’s going to make everyone upset this summer?
Luke: Exactly. He’s very big on self pity and victim complex, again, which is why it sort of aligns with Trump. But being frustrated with Morrissey has been part of the experience all along. Some would say this stuff has been in his music all along. Songs like National Front Disco and Bengali in Platforms that were kind of controversial. But there was always this level of irony in the lyrics, and his entire persona is this sort of facade, so it gave us plausible deniability. It’s like he’s playing a character of a National Front skinhead or something like that. But over the past few years it’s become like, oh, maybe that wasn’t irony all along.
Elamin: I think The Smiths sort of engender a fandom that is really loyal, and really beautiful in a lot of ways. Because Morrissey, for years, was seen as rock’s outsider poet. He’s the guy who captures all the sad feelings in your soul. But he’s changed a lot, he’s disappointed fans. You mentioned some of the xenophobic posts or statements he’s put out over the years. How do you go about trying to reconcile being a fan of his music with the person he appears to have become?
Luke: We’ve all been having this conversation about how to separate the art from the artist, or whether or not one has to, for years now. Particularly in the past five or eight years, whatever it’s been. I don’t think there’s any hard and fast rule. If you talk to ten people they’re all going to be fans of someone who’s somewhat problematic, or maybe downright bad. We all have our own line that we draw. Whether it’s Michael Jackson…
Elamin: Or Kanye.
Luke: Or Kanye. I personally listen to The Smiths and Morrissey’s solo music a lot less than I used to, and I don't go to his shows anymore. I guess that’s one way people justify things like that. Well, I’m not giving him any money. But I guess the real thing that I do when I listen is I tell myself that I’m listening to a younger man who hadn’t said a lot of this stuff at the time this beautiful music was written.
Elamin: I love that as a way of working through it. I guess you have to say that to yourself because, listen pal, you’ve got a bunch of The Smiths tattoos! There’s no way through this except to figure out some way to reconcile it. And I think that’s important work. We don’t do enough of that reconciliation work. You mentioned that both Morrissey and his writing partner in The Smiths, Johnny Marr, have made anti-Trump comments in the past. Marr was quick to condemn that Trump used his music for the rallies. But Morrissey hasn’t said anything. You’ve interviewed both of these guys. Does that surprise you at all?
Luke: It doesn’t surprise me that Johnny came out right away and said something. He’s by all accounts a beautiful and lovely man that everyone loves. I am surprised that Morrissey hasn’t said anything yet. He loves to issue these little edicts through his website, or his fan website, from time to time.
Elamin: He says wearily…
Luke: Right! I will say, about that tattoo, I do have a picture of his face on my shoulder, but conveniently people always ask me if it’s Elvis. Not that Elvis doesn’t come with his own baggage, so you can’t really win here.
Elamin: I was gonna say! Slightly longer baggage. It’s aged in a different way. Maybe that’s the out you can use.
I read an article in The Guardian where the writer said if you asked ChatGPT to summarize every The Smiths songs it would narrow down to the sentence “nobody’s being treated as badly as me.” That does sound like something Donald Trump would say. Is it a surprise to you that the MAGA faithful are connecting with The Smiths music and putting it into the rotation?
Luke: No, I guess not. Like I said there is a lot of that self pity and the feeling that you are the singular, unique, put-upon main character of the universe. That seems to line up pretty well with Trump and MAGA type people. But then again there’s also this thing like, people, maybe there are some actual Morrissey fans and fans of post-punk type music involved? Punks get old. I can tell you that first hand. And a lot of people tend to get, not always, but oftentimes, their politics gets a little more conservative as they get older, so maybe they’re just aging into a different political demographic here?
Elamin: The reason it wasn’t a big surprise to me when I first heard The Smiths at a Trump rally is that I think a large part of the Trump appeal is the argument, making the argument anyway, that the people who attend these rallies have been alienated from mainstream politics, so to play music that fits in line with general alienation, that doesn't seem like a surprise to me. Is that part of the overlap you think?
Luke: It could be that. But I don’t know if we’re gonna see a huge uptick in sales of The Queen Is Dead over this. It’s probably just a little curiosity. It’d be interesting to see if there’s a change in demographics at his concerts if he does blow up among these people. A lot fewer aging goths and Latinos.
Elamin: I also have a hard time imagining whoever is making the playlist is trying to curate for an emotional landscape you know? I think they just like The Smiths. I think that’s probably what this comes down to. Luke O’Neil, thanks for your time. I look forward to talking to you the next time Morrissey says anything.
Luke: So you’ll have me back on tomorrow?
One last thing I meant to get to but didn’t have time to say on the radio about the whole appreciating art made by people with terrible politics thing is this:
I am – and you probably are too if you read this newsletter – pretty far left. So in this one way I sympathize with the right. How they’re always painting themselves into a smaller and smaller corner in terms of what culture they can enjoy. To the point where they’re gassing themselves up right now that winning Super Bowls and having sex with Taylor Swift is gay. If I had to limit the art and culture that I appreciate to people whose politics align with my own I would have almost no music to listen to or anything to watch on TV. The right is correct when they say all of Hollywood are basic normie libs they’re just mad about that fact for the wrong reasons.
Here's the Vice piece. More below on some other shit.
Kneeling at the Altar of Moz: Morrissey at the Boston Opera House, Reviewed
A Morrissey concert is a great place to see 100 people you wanted to bang 15 years ago. It's a lot like a high school reunion in that sense, except one in which everyone somehow grew up to become an even bigger nerd than they were before.
So it was at his performance at the Boston Opera House on Saturday night. Each time he comes through town, as I'm sure fans from other cities can attest, you'll see the same faces, many of whom you probably haven't seen since the last show—the Queen Is Dead t-shirts a little more threadbare, the pompadours ever so slightly wilted. Certainly a lot of popular musical acts retain much of their fan base over the years, but there's something remarkable in the consistency, or persistence rather, of the Morrissey acolyte. It's been 27 years since the break up of the Smiths—Morrissey has been a solo artist far longer than he ever was a band member—but unlike many other singers who've gone solo, the ardor has only heightened in the, well, not twilight of his career, because he's still releasing quality music and performing at a high level, but on the back nine at least. How many other iconic frontmen can we say that about?
That wouldn't be the case if he were merely coasting on past glories this entire time. But beginning with 2004's You Are the Quarry, on through Ringleader of the Tormentors, Years of Refusal, and this summer's World Peace Is None of Your Business, he's managed to put together, not perfect albums by any stretch, but a solid two to three songs on each that find their way instantly into the canon.
That level of output is also one of the potential drawbacks of any Morrissey performances. No one outside of a first timer—and there were plenty there on Saturday—is still expecting to see a the Smiths greatest hits package, or a Viva Hate retrospective, but, as my group of friends, ranging from 25 to 40, pointed out on the way home, we each could've listed off ten songs we were disappointed not to hear, and they'd all have been different.
Instead, we were treated to a set heavy on new material, much of it unreleased, a smattering of the Smiths favorites, and late-period tour staples. New single “Istanbul” was a highlight, a sweeping, mid-tempo lament whose lyrics conjure images of recent violence in Turkey. “Earth is the Loneliest Planet” seems another likely contender for a new favorite, with its flamenco style guitar, accordion, and quintessential lyric: “Time after time you say next time. But you fail as a woman and you lose as a man. We do what we can…” Other new songs were hit and miss. “World Peace Is None of Your Business” didn't leave much of an impression outside of a scorching middle instrumental passage that was a reminder just how loud, and well, rocking, for lack of a better word, Morrissey's band always is.
Nowhere was that more evident than on “Meat Is Murder," a song I'd normally place to the bottom of a (very short) list of skippable Smiths songs. Here, with its inevitably off-putting, but begrudgingly accepted video footage of slaughter houses, the band's musical attempts to translate that sense of horror and grinding death-machinery was one of the most metal things I've seen in a long time.
That came toward the end of a lengthy slower, low energy middle set, and brought some life back into the crowd. All of the newer songs were performed well, and the old boy was in fine voice, but throw us a bone here. For me, that came in the form of “Yes, I Am Blind,” a song I'd never seen before, and whose appearance on the setlist would've made sitting through an hour of snoozers worth it alone. Speaking of snoozers, the Smiths' “Asleep” was another number to check off the fanboy bucketlist for many, but beautiful as it may be, and as it was here performed alone with piano accompaniment, it's lyric of “sing me to sleep” seemed appropriate. ("The Queen Is Dead,” “Speedway,” and “Certain People I Know” were other older favorites).
Despite recent cancelations on the tour this week, and the abrupt dismissal of opener Kristeen Young, (we were treated to a video beforehand that was essentially like looking over Morrissey's shoulder as he drunkenly browsed YouTube), he was engaging, and in a lighthearted mood, even if all of his quips didn't quite land. “I know you don't have ghettos in Boston but use your imagination,” he cracked before “I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris.” “It's impossible to stand on such a wonderful stage and not think about all the Americans who've pittered about on this stage,” he said at one point, before listing off all of the Golden Girls by name.
The stage, and the room, incidentally, are absolutely gorgeous. It's the type of theater he's accustomed to playing here when he comes to Boston, but unlike other recent venues, they had a more relaxed policy toward the crowd, many of whom, like myself, crowded into the aisles to get as close as we could. I spent much of the show eye-balling the security guard standing in front of me thinking about whether or not I could push passed him at the end of the set.
Why would I want to do that? I don't really get it myself. I'm a music critic, I've been to thousands of shows over the last twenty years, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've been starstruck, or desperate to get close to the performers, never mind a cranky, contrarian 55-year-old man.
I asked Morrissey about this sort of mythologizing we do of our favorite artists a couple years ago in an interview. Isn't it strange? I asked. Our heroes, his heroes, they're just regular people who do a job pretty well. His response couldn't have been more fittingly Morrissian:
“But they're not 'just another human being,'" he said. “However much you try to wish that they are. Do you think Patti Smith recorded Horses whilst also working the cash register at Macy's? Do you think the New York Dolls were otherwise destined to clean windows for a living? Do you think David Bowie yearned to sell vacuum cleaners, yet filled in the wrong job application by mistake? No. All of these people are very special, and it's only a weightless sense of jealousy that makes you want to believe that they're frauds.”
I don't know if jealousy is the right word, but there's certainly a sense of weightlessness in the presence of people we, however irrationally, adore. That kicked in for me on the closer, an acoustic, mariachi-style version of “First of the Gang to Die," as the crowd around me surged forward toward the stage. Here was my opening. Stage crashers were being tossed off left and right. I dodged the security long enough to make it to the foot of the stage, where I was grabbed and pulled down before clamoring on, but was left there, reaching out, like a supplicant approaching a religious leader, but knowing full well the entire time just how silly this devotional desperation seemed.
I thought of something else he told me in the same interview, about a record signing he did at the old Tower Records in Boston for Vauxhall and I. “We were five blocks away from the store and already we were passing the queue,” he said. “I couldn't believe it. I said, 'Those people are queuing for me?' I started crying.” As the song wound to a close, he came toward my section of the stage, reached out, and took my hand. And then I did the most natural thing for an adult man who should know better at a Morrissey concert—the entire reason why we all keep coming back to his shows year after year in the first place—I cried.
I was reminded of this poem by Mary Oliver this morning and thought you might appreciate it as well.
I was also reminded of this old Hell World the other day and I wanted to share it again because I think it was overlooked as "one of the good ones." It had previously been for paid subscribers only but I opened it up for anyone to read.
I started watching the Game Show Network right around when the pandemic and middle age and suburbia all hit me concurrently none of which I have yet to and will likely never rebound from and something I still can’t get over two years later watching anew every evening eating our little coffee table dinner is how on most of the games every contestant is this kind of pure grotesquerie from California which is the most uncanny state in America the most uncanny country in creation. I haven’t gotten through the Rehearsal yet but I’m reminded of how when I used to watch Nathan For You and I’d think it’s a trick it’s all actors but no it’s just that people there are like that. Californians are a people who simply want to be able to drive two miles in under 90 minutes if they can time traffic right and who love to be insane. No one will ever figure them out. Not Steinbeck or Hammett or Chandler or Didion or West or Tarantino.
It’s all just pool balls clattering.
I don’t know what that is supposed to mean but it sounded like something.
...
I was trying so hard earlier to think of the other California writer I wanted to mention above in my little list there and all I could remember was that I had posted a picture of the book that I can’t remember on Instagram ten years ago which isn’t an especially efficient mechanism for remembering books. I scrolled down and down and down into my past last night aging myself in reverse and there it was in 2012 sitting on the side table of a hotel: Ask the Dust by John Fante. Let me look up a couple of quotes from it real quick to jog my memory.
"All of us were here for a little while, and then we were somewhere else; we were not alive at all; we approached living, but we never achieved it. We are going to die. Everybody was going to die."
"I looked at the faces around me and I knew mine was like theirs. Faces with the blood drained away, tight faces, worried, lost. Faces like flowers torn from their roots and stuffed into a pretty vase, the colors draining fast. I had to get away from that town."
Yeah that definitely sounds like the type of shit that I would have liked.
Oh and check out this act I was made aware of just recently. Really love this song in particular. Got a definite Jason Molina influence with some Pavement and early Flaming Lips in there.
"That's the good shit right there."
– Luke
Isaac Chotiner has another good piece up this week at The New Yorker. This one is an interview with a pediatrician named Seema Jilani who spent a couple of weeks working at a hospital in Gaza.
There’s nothing that could have prepared me for the horrors that I saw. I think the lack of dignity is intense. I think every single factor of the tapestry of society has been affected: community schools, hospitals, food, and shelter.
And if I could offer an example around how that manifests: a seven-year-old had deep lacerations to his leg and needed some suturing. It wasn’t a life or death case—it was very simple—but the only pain relief we had was Motrin, which was frankly cruel, and a cruel undertaking. There was no ketamine. And so I tried to use one of my pediatric tools as a distraction. And so I had a light flasher, but he wasn’t interested in any of those designs that I put on the wall. So I tried to distract him from the pain. Usually what I would do is ask questions like, “So who’s your best friend?” I can’t ask that because what if his best friend’s dead? “What’s your favorite subject at school?” He hasn’t been to school in three months. “What’s your favorite food?” I don’t know when the last time he ate would be. Every single facet of their society has been ripped apart.
People blink this much when they are comfortable and telling the truth.
I can't say what I think should happen to this guy:
I know the messages are delivered in a different tone but is there really much difference between what the White House and Republican monsters like Mast here are saying in substance? A pretty clear illustration of how Democrats will cause and/or allow massive suffering to transpire but they'll at least pretend – often badly – to be sad about it.
Relatedly you might also read this recent statement from the World Health Organization's director Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus.
As of today, over 100,000 Gazans are either dead, injured or missing and presumed dead.
WHO has faced great difficulty even to reach hospitals in southern Gaza.
Heavy fighting has been reported near hospitals in Khan Younis, severely impeding access to health facilities for patients, health workers and supplies.
During a UN mission on Monday, WHO delivered medical supplies to Nasser medical complex. Other missions to deliver fuel and food were denied.
Despite challenges, Nasser hospital continues to offer health services, also at reduced capacity.
The hospital is operating with a single ambulance. Donkey carts are being used for transporting patients.
Yesterday we made another attempt to get food to Nasser, but due to delays about 500 metres from the checkpoint, the food was taken from the trucks by crowds, who are also desperate for food.
Our teams on the ground report increasing food shortages for medical staff and patients, with only one meal per day.
The risk of famine is high and increasing each day with persistent hostilities and restricted humanitarian access.
Every person our teams talk to ask for food and water.
Decisions by various countries to pause funds for UNRWA, the largest supplier of humanitarian aid in this crisis, will have catastrophic consequences for the people of Gaza.
No other entity has the capacity to deliver the scale and breadth of assistance that 2.2 million people in Gaza urgently need.
We appeal for these announcements to be reconsidered.
We continue to call for safe access for humanitarian personnel and supplies.
We continue to call for the hostages to be released.
We continue to call for health care to be protected, and not attacked or militarised.
And we continue to call for a ceasefire.