Morrissey

Vicar Street

A NUMBER of Morrissey's culturally iconic ducks are lined up in a row even before he walks on stage – a collage of archive footage that includes Joe Dolan singing You're Such a Good Lookin' Woman, Lou Reed being interrogated by Australian media about his drug habits, New York Dolls on a German TV music show, US 50s teen idol Fabian, a blowsy Diana Dors in sitcom mode, and a drag artist known as Lypsinka.

Is the connection sex and sexuality? Perhaps. So far, so Morrissey. It comes as something of a surprise, however – several hours later when the show is over and the stocky, sweat-soaked singer leaves the stage – that all you remember with any sense of genuine intrigue whatsoever are the video clips and not the music.

Still without a record label, despite his obvious knack of selling hundreds of thousands of records worldwide, Morrissey, now 52 years old, seems to have slipped into the role of a middle-aged agent provocateur – his comments at a concert in Poland on July 24th last, about the Norway island massacre being “nothing compared to what happens in McDonalds and Kentucky Fried shit every day” were fatuous, to say the least.

And on Friday at this sold-out show in front of a partisan audience that ranges from ladies and gentlemen of a certain age wearing Smiths t-shirts to skinny teens sporting Oscar Wilde tops, he trots out anti-royalist comments that come across as much ho-hum cliché as petty-minded.

The upside is some of the music; inasmuch as there are song titles of his that are far better than the songs themselves ( I Have Forgiven Jesusbeing a classic, rib-tickling example), there are sections of his solo work that often surpass that of The Smiths. The likes of You're the One for Me Fatty, First of the Gang to Die, Irish Blood English Heart, You Have Killed Me, and the still majestic Everyday Is Like Sundayare just crackers waiting to be pulled apart. The remainder of the set – barring the final song, The Smiths' sublime There Is a Light That Never Goes Out– is instantly forgettable.

So, enough already with the topical commentary – who listens to someone like Morrissey for this anymore, anyway? – and on with the show stoppers. Even his most avid fans are being worn down with more of the former than the latter.