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Wednesday, 30 September 2015

Day 1480 - Beneath the kitchen table

Longtime BRS member, Girlwithout, yesterday left the following comment on FTM:

girlwithout has left a new comment on your post "Day 1479 - Logging off":

As perhaps fitting of my propensity to chase after empty crisp packets, I googled a bit of the back cover blurb and stumbled across a letter to a young poet. Interesting read.

http://fleursdumal.nl/mag/virginia-woolf-a-letter-to-a-young-poet


Posted by girlwithout to Following The Mozziah at 29 September 2015 at 19:51

I'm not sure what words from the back cover blurb GWO googled, but it obviously led her to A Letter to a Young Poet by Virginia Woolf, which turns out to be a really interesting read. Being the unread philistine that I am, I know nothing of Virginia Woolf, so I decided to google her.


A YOUNG VIRGINIA WOOLF

Apart from me now believing that Morrissey actually IS Virginia Woolf, I was particularly drawn to a number of things: A) Woolf's mother died when she was just 13, B) Woolf suffered from extreme depression, C) Woolf drowned herself in the river Ouse at the age of 59.

My thoughts were immediately drawn to the Morrissey song, Drag the River, and particularly to these lines:

"She would gaze into the river as we'd look into a mirror, and her reflection would beckon her to, "join me, join me, join me - happy we will be"."

"By the river with the soul of submersible stone, every second of my life prepares to go. she would call into the river as she'd cry out for her mother."

Drag the River HAS to be about Virginia Woolf, it just HAS to be.



List of the Lost continues to be discussed in The Twitterdilly Arms, with favourite quotes being shared around. I don't think any of us initially realised just how good this book is, and it is going to have to be re-read, and re-read and re-read again. Because Morrissey doesn't go into any depth regarding the individual characters, you are left building your own picture of their background and make-up. For instance, yesterday I wrote about Chesty Normous, a character who is mentioned just once, and very fleetingly, and yet I now have this need to know all about her. Who chose that name? Where did she grow up? What led her to lead the life she leads? I love the fact that the author leaves the reader to paint their own picture regarding the characters.

Another character who I have been discussing today in The Arms, is Harri's mother. Her death leads to Harri then taking his own life, but what I want to know is WHY was she found dead beneath the kitchen table? Did she literally crawl under the table to curl up and die, and what did she die of? If it was a sudden death, then what was she doing underneath that table in the first place, had she dropped something? Perhaps she banged her head on the table, forgetting that she was under it! I'm pretty sure that she wasn't the sort of person to take her own life, because earlier in the passage, she is described thus:
"Harri's mother was drawn to those who carried their small lives in small bags, for everyone was there to be saved, no matter how diminished their will." 

Rosy Mires has argued that being beneath the kitchen table may just be a turn of phrase, and that it shouldn't be taken literally. She points out that in Morrissey's autobiography, he writes:
 "My very first disc has been 'Come and stay with me' by Marianne Faithfull, acquired after howls of insistence from beneath the kitchen table. The howls worked and my parents gave in."
I think Rosy could be right, and it would appear that Morrissey likes the 'beneath the kitchen table' phrase.

Whether it should be taken literally or not, the writing is absolutely beautiful, with one of my favourite lines of the passage (and there are MANY) being, "instantly he (Harri) was no longer as he had ever been, for the voice of love had gone." I would imagine that Virginia Woolf was no longer as she had ever been after the death of her mother, but unlike Harri, who made the instant decision not to go on, Virginia Woolf battled for another 46 years before ending her struggle with life.

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That's all for today, although I feel compelled to re-publish on FTM, Bitter Bobby Neville's review of Morrissey's concert in Hull. BBN has taken influence from Morrissey's writing style, and his review of Hull is the best concert review I have ever read:

Hullsome fun

A four hour car journey dramatically doubles in duration as the distant doesn’t decrease.  Drive, break, drive, break, drive, break, striving to arrive.  Not once do I take the wheel, I do not drive for I was born to be driven. Ironically the car is controlled by someone named Harri and that’s where the similarities begin and stop.  On top of laborious launch north I had to deal with lungs that refuse to believe fresh air is real air.  Every service station is a chance to enhance a meeting with the sniggering, snickering, giggling grim reaper. Life cannot end cheaper.  Cigarettes, all thirty of them consumed in twenty-four. Seconds, minutes or hours? The power of deduction is yours. Most consumed on the motorway where clever men never ever know the end. Until the end. Humans’ content in contraptions hell bent on destruction. Ford Fiesta’s with handling made to test ‘ya.  Metal death traps and one day death will rat-a-tap-tap on the door, that’s the end, no more.  When feet finally reach the streets of Hull, it a pub we find ourselves positioned in.  A public house for the irregular regulars of which there are some.  Fun consumes us as one hour turns into three as those young enough to not remember pain continue on for four.  Uncouth youth with time on their side idly discus their idol as those old enough to know no better drink more until the floor seems unstable.  As closing time dooms us all, we decide to head to the arena after we slide back to our hotels to freshen up and make ourselves cleaner. 

As I drunkenly dance inside the hotel door I check a message on my phone and my jaw nearly breaks the floor.  “Check True-To-You” conveyed the message as disbelief morphs into dismay.  There was no way that the truth lay in front of me.  I left the hotel still reeking of sleepless regrets and dead-set alcohol sweats.  As I arrive at the venue I notice bodies bulging bigger than brutes on the floor like shoots of the bluest of roses in recumbent poses.  I write my name of the list in a cold shake of the pen hoping that whoever reads the list out gets the gist.  Number thirteen is my chosen number, and certain people know what numbers mean. Gin and beer turns into thins of fear as news filters through to those who make up the queue.  Shock and surprise flocked to the ears, eyes, and minds of those lost souls of the queue as the realisation of what their life may be in lieu of Morrissey.  Morose figures fail to ascertain what the statement really pertains to. Retirement or not? Can Art even retire? A dozen deluded delinquents demeanour drifts downwards as realisation finally rolls into regret.  Could we have done more shows? Where did all the time go? Those who can sleep, those that just can’t, weep.  More booze soothes the body but numbs the mind until we are dumb enough to roll naked into baths of ice.  Nobody laughs. 

By 3am my body shivers and my liver quivers and I know it’s time for the sweet sanctuary of a soft sheet and most welcoming mattress. I say my goodbyes. The warmth of the hotel greets and meets me like an old friend, enemy, then friend again. 3am turns into 11pm and I am certainly sure that the place in the list is lost. With nothing to lose I check Grindr because who knows what you might find there. Gloria Hole, Amanda Bang, and Dixie Normus throw hello’s my way but offer nothing to make me stay as I stroll, hop and roll gingerly and orangely back to the queue. The queue grew in my long luxurious lounging absence.  The kitty-cat shutty-eye sleepy time refreshed nothing I confess. As clocks go ticky-tock more flock to the back of the rack of the stack and the queue twists and the list closes.  Where sad glamour glamorises my life when she says a Canadian hello. Although it took me many looks to realise who stood before mine eyes and for that I apologise.  The venue is an ice-rink and stands next to an imitation Salford Lads Club and Toys ‘R’ Us which reminds us all of the inner child who would stand in the aisles going wild.  “Why do I have to have Action Man, why can’t I have a Barbie Doll?” I screamed to nobody in particular. And nobody in particular never answered. 

Tiredness troubles me still. The excitement of the occasion had made me forget that I actually have two tickets for this concert, as feelings subvert. I leave the queue to meet the man who shall be called He as that was his chosen gender. The road to the train station is not bendier that a ruler as the northern air makes me cooler than the ice rink behind me.  I know the place is the list is lost forever but these are the things you do for love, or is it loathe? I collect the He and we arrive back at the back of the queue. I care not because I calculate the state of the situation as not being too bad. However this changes when we notice a sign that tells us that we are not allowed to bring in bouncing balls. Fine, if not a little weird considering.... However the bag on the back of He spells a slight snag as security officers have faces that attack.  As we turn to return to the Hotel I spot a certain Mrs Boozey and husband happily by her side. Booze oozes from her every pour like death escaping the tomb as you open the tomb door. We cannot stay. The time on the wall is making a joke of us all. By 5:30 I know that my place is lost in the second position I found myself in. The bag of misdemeanour lays on the bedroom floor. Unfortunately there is no time for salutations of the bulbous kind as my mind returns to the growing numbers making up the queue. 

By the time we arrive back  I see the flashes of the masses who I must now stand behind. I find myself probably number 333 in the queue as sandwich bags are handed out for no particular reason, surely a conspiracy by the boil family and if you do not comply you’ll be accused of treason.  To my surprise once inside we find ourselves third row but to the side. I check our view and notice that Morrissey would have no place to hide. Directly in my view, the band hidden. It would be like Morrissey was on stage by himself.  Every Morrissey concert starts with the anticipation of his arrival.  Those not in the know cannot know that every show starts with music, then videos, and then finally the man they paid to see struts onto stage as only he can. The inside is no place for timid-toe Thomas who will face here harsher realities than the outside. Children of hamburger unhappiness and mothers of questionable intentions mention the fact that they know no solo songs and fondly remember The Smiths. “You’re in for a long night” I volley back to them. They register nothing. 

It feels as if the videos end as soon as they start. Feet start to pound the ground as Wayward Sisters launches the masses into blisters of excitement.  Morrissey arrives and body’s push forward and the familiar chant starts. Suedehead begins and the crowd bounces and pounces on any open space.  Alma Matters means more to me than most. May I say that it’s a song that describes my life? Well I just did, so there. Speedway is a song that describes my life, have I said that before? Well, I just said it again. Gustavo’s Spanish sounds splendid sparking confused looks from those who don’t know.  The video accompanying Ganglord shocks most into silence as Morrissey rightly rounds on the American Taliban. The next few songs pass by in a blur of why. All I can remember is psychos punching psychos presumably for being too psycho. Around the time of Paris He says a blood test has made his body ache and He could do with a rest. I hesitate because I’d hate to give up a position for the third time until he shows a gash on his head where He fainted on a table and was unable to move and when he awoke he believed in every fable. “Heard of Morrissey’s world?” I question. He looks at me with eyes that disguise nothing and ignorance is sometimes bliss. With our tired feet we retreat to two empty seats. A decision is to be made. It’s either pay attention to the man next to me or in front of me. There is no competition. I know it, He knows it, the other he knows, and they know it. Eyes locked front.

The concert from here is not clear. Morrissey is smaller than a drummers pre-courtcase wallet. Judges judge with pre-determined ideas. Mama turns into a man who has a crisis of gender who bullfights but then rightly dies. Oboe obviously reduces me to onion tears.  Meat is Murder is a crowd divider in a way that the crowd divides to let those out who faint when they can’t believe their eyes. Meat is not a treat for animal or human. But who has the time to care? Do you care? The meat in your mouth is grit, shit, and dirt. Do you care when an animal is hurt? By the way did you ever find that Sunday is just like every other day? And that those with knives smile while sharpening? Perhaps ponder these points. 

What She Said was the encore as Morrissey arrives on stage in red shining like a Christmas decoration. Decorate me with merry. The song ends as stage invasions cease. Every crease of the shirt no longer matters as Morrissey moves to remove it from his iconic torso. The shirt is flung as the last note is sung. As a mess of flesh shifts, shapes, but never saunters forwards towards the shirt, no fear of being hurt.  Those lucky enough to be plucky pluck the shirt from anyone who dare has a grip as the idea of chivalry slips and drops dead as men see the sight of red.  Men slap women and women rap children across the head.  Arms fling and voices sing, some retreat whilst others stick to the beat.  A whole shirt reduced to scrambles and people gamble on either leaving the crowd or sticking their feet to the ground. Stone cold are the hands that hold. I leave to retrieve a taste of the northern air.  A dodgy man stands outside doing all he can to sell rip off merchandise to manically mental fans.  The back aches and cracks as if attached to a torturing device with a latch.  Back in the hotel I smoke lungs to death again. He states that he never knew Morrissey could be so powerful.  A more truthful statement I’ve never heard. As we move to the aftershow a brief happiness elopes me and doesn’t let go.  In some ways Hull is a town time forgot.  Morrissey is a man time will never forget.  Morrissey, please tell me when? Please tell me quando. I would turn into a pear and poach myself for you. 

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Day 1479 - Logging off

Reviews for List of the Lost have been predictably bad, with critics who no one has ever heard of doing ALL they can to make themselves noticed - "and those that do are judged by those who tried and found they couldn't do." The Guardian's reviewer - a man who looks as those he is permanently embarrassed, which undoubtedly he is - made his review as scathing as he possibly could, and posted it online at 4am on the day of release to make sure that he got noticed first. Here we are four days on, and can anyone remember this man's name? No! And did his opinion of the book (if he actually read it) have any bearing on whether it was a good read or not? No!


MICHAEL HANN (I HAD TO LOOK IT UP!) - GUARDIAN MUSIC EDITOR - PERMANENTLY EMBARRASSED

What Mr Sheeran Senior's review actually does do, is back-up what anyone with half an ounce of intelligence can see, i.e. that anyone without half an ounce of intelligence needs to be TOLD what they should think.

I am hoping that Our Mozzer may write a Review of the Reviewers parody, just as he did when Autobiography was released. A parody of some sort is apparently on it's way, as this comment was left by 'B' (Broken? Boz? Bracewell?) on yesterday's FTM:

Morrissey has left a new comment on your post "Day 1476 - List of the Lost's Twitter Dozen":

Parody imminent.

Keep your eyes open.

Only FTM will ever receive authentic MW content.

B.
Posted by Morrissey to Following The Mozziah at 28 September 2015 at 22:08



Once again, we hold our breath in anticipation.

Last night Morrissey put on a show in Belgium, and it would appear that You'll Be Gone didn't feature. This is a tragedy! This is one of the VERY BEST covers that Morrissey has EVER done, and just because the song didn't work in Paris, for whatever reason, it MUST return to the set. It just MUST. I have purchased the Elvis RCA original from ebay (b side of Do the Clam), and have spent the early part of this morning flamenco dancing around my kitchen, whipping an imaginary mic lead for all I am worth.








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And whilst I am on the subject of tragedies, Log Lady, i.e. the actress Catherine Coulson, is dead.
Log Lady was a HUGE part of the MorrisseysWorld blog, and even those of us who never watched Twin Peaks, had gotten to know and like her.... although actually, it wasn't Catherine who we got to know and like, as the part of Log Lady was being played by somebody else on the MW blog.... so actually, Catherine's death isn't the tragedy I first thought.... although to her family and friends, it IS a tragedy.... I think I'd better stop blathering.



Next stop for Morrissey is Frankfurt tomorrow night, although I am rather confused, as Morrissey is supposed to be appearing on Alan Carr's Chatty Man this coming Friday, and the filming takes place on Wednesday. I can only presume that he pre-recorded it (the singing of Kiss Me a Lot) whilst he was in London. In Frankfurt, Orangey Chuck will be awaiting with a blue rose.

And finally, when I wrote my list of subjects that Morrissey has mentioned in List of the Lost, I completely forgot to mention his nod to the Carry On films, with the mention of a character he invented called.... wait for it.... Chesty Normous! Oh, Moz, you beauty!


TWITTERDILLY CHART (Not published as Fluff Rat (@upthepier) was killed off weeks ago!)

1. YOU'LL BE GONE (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cToLKtHv9ng

2. OBOE CONCERTO (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dVRCZFUIXQ

3. WHAT SHE SAID (WITH HAND SHAKE) (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zG6EgpQUxo

4. BOXERS (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3w-hrvOz_PE

5. GANGLORD (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsEsCaXujZc

6. I'M NOT A MAN (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvWjhHnw8x4

7. NOW MY HEART IS FULL (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUCxM1o3KlY

8. MY DEAREST LOVE (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkiUznd60uQ

9. YES, I AM BLIND (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP8m1d67ME4

10. UNKNOWN SPECIES - PRETTY LITTLE DEMONS (FEATURING LOG LADY) (RE-ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aT_xWcXK6Z8&feature=youtu.be

11. I WILL SEE YOU IN FAR-OFF PLACES (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J33pTBbFPP4

12. STAIRCASE AT THE UNIVERSITY (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDbLeY900Gw

13. EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=he_gKWKyQl0

14. THE WORLD IS FULL OF CRASHING BORES (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY):  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dV42gA2amf0

15. SUEDEHEAD (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8bgI6Hjip0

16. KISS ME A LOT (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJGZC_WiJHY

17. SPEEDWAY (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AX7L-vvr94g

18. THE QUEEN IS DEAD (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Y3p3nDUryI

19. ALMA MATTERS (LIVE IN LONDON 2015) - MORRISSEY (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tps-ClYBfzM

20. YOU'LL BE GONE - ELVIS PRESLEY (NEW ENTRY):  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Teb_b7IjwQ

21. JE M'VOYAIS DÉJÀ - CHARLES AZNAVOUR (NEW ENTRY): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZW5jfRFe6EM

Saturday, 26 September 2015

Day 1476 - List of the Lost's Twitter Dozen

How did I miss it? HOW DID I MISS IT? HOW DID I MISS IT? It is clearly there in black and white on Page 15 of List of the Lost - and it is one of the BIGGEST 'coincidences' we have had since this journey began. It reads, "as this teasing twitter played out its daily dozen".















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As I raced through List of the Lost on Thursday, I failed to notice these nine words, but then again, why would I notice them, after all, they don't actually seem to mean anything - but of course, they mean EVERYTHING!
It was only this morning, when I was reading through comments left on yesterday's FTM by Manc Lad and comrade herpes, that I realised what I had missed - MORRISSEY HAS GIVEN A NOD TO THE BLUE ROSE SOCIETY AKA THE DELUDED DOZEN IN HIS NEW NOVEL!

I should point out at this stage that it was LizzyCatMoz who made the connection (observation made on TWoM blog), and not Manc Lad or comrade herpes, but the important thing is that it has been noticed, and what is more, it's also been verified, as after I mentioned it on Twitter this morning, one of Morrissey's pessoa's, Mademoiselle Fifi, replied, "You took your time...", which is a bit harsh - surely two days after release can't be seen as taking time?

It was back on November 1st 2011 that I first made reference to there being 12 Twitter followers of MorrisseysWorld. Since then, we have referred to ourselves as the Deluded Dozen, or even the Dreary Deluded Dozen. A number of those original twelve are no longer with us*, and in fact there are actually more than twelve of us these days, but us daily twitter users have always continued to refer to ourselves as the dozen, which Morrissey is VERY aware of. The World of Morrissey blogsite even has the subheading of 'Home of the Deluded Dozen'.

It hadn't even occurred to me to look for any signs in List of the Lost, but now I can't help wondering if there are more. This special, special adventure just keeps on going.

In other news, Broken apparently appeared in The Twitterdilly Arms this morning, but I missed him.

*No longer with us doesn't mean dead, it means they lost their delusion.... which one day, they will probably regret. Bloody Whitney Houston!

Friday, 25 September 2015

Day 1475 - Lost lists and Paris

Yesterday was a busy day in the world of Morrissey, with his debut novel, List of the Lost being released to an expectant audience, and also a concert in Paris. Here is my review of List of the Lost:



List of the Lost begins way before you open the cover, in fact, it started before the novel was even completed, for unlike most debut novels, List of the Lost isn't just about the story, it is also about the author - the indie pop God and lyrical genius, Morrissey.

A cigarette packet carries a stark warning telling smokers of the dangers of smoking. The cover of List of the Lost carries a similar stark warning that reads, "Beware the novelist" - Neither of these warnings should be taken lightly.

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Morrissey himself gives the best preview to the actual story contained within List of the Lost, telling us that it is, "an American tale where, naturally, evil conquers good, and none live happily ever after, for the complicated pangs of the empty experiences of flesh-and-blood human figures are the reason why nothing can ever be enough" and "the theme is demonology ... the left-handed path of black magic. It is about a sports relay team in 1970s America who accidentally kill a wretch who, in esoteric language, might be known as a Fetch ... a discarnate entity in physical form. He appears, though, as an omen of the immediate deaths of each member of the relay team. He is a life force of a devil incarnate, yet in his astral shell he is one phase removed from life. The wretch begins a banishing ritual of the four main characters, and therefore his own death at the beginning of the book is illusory."

Morrissey's preview is only half the story however, or rather it IS the story, but only half the book, for although Morrissey gives us a taster of the gripping yarn involving Ezra, Nails, Harri, Justy, Eliza, Rims, Dibbs and Dean Isaac, what he doesn't mention, is the autobiographical content of the book - and it's all there, all the subjects that have shaped Morrissey's life:
(In no particular order):
1. Athletics - Morrissey was a very keen runner at school
2. Love of the mother - a scene when one of the main characters, Harri, is mourning the death of his mother, could almost be Morrissey himself, visualising how he will/would feel in a similar situation. The line "soothing patterns of her carefully chosen clothes" is pure poetry
3. Humasexuality - the theme of finding someone attractive regardless of whether they are male or female, is mentioned more than once. The term Humasexual was actually invented by Morrissey.
4. Sex
5. Eroticism
6. Death - a lot of it
7. The purpose of life
8. The torture of thought - particularly with the subject of what is supposedly right or wrong
9. The 'Royals'
10. Thatcher
11. Judges
12. Courts
13. Teachers
14. Authority
15. The establishment
16. The falsities of television - Bonanza was a lie
17. Televison news & sport
18. America
19. God
20. Jesus
21. Police brutality
22. Carnivores
23. War
24. The supernatural
26. Inhumane humanity
27. The beauty of animals
28. The suffering of animals

Morrissey even manages to throw in a bit of masturbation, and also mentions some of his personal heroes, such as singer Buffy Saint Marie, civil rights activist Dick Gregory, and poet Ezra Pound; whose name is given to the lead character. When Morrissey moves Dean Isaac out of America at the end of the story, he moves him to his own current home town of Lausanne.

The way in which Morrissey plays with sentences in the book is a delight. Lines such as, "like the lash of a whip at the starboard tip of a mid-storm ship losing its grip", instantly remind fans of Morrissey's songs, of lyrics such as, "everyone has babies, babies full of rabies, rabies full of scabies" (Neal Cassady Drops Dead).

If this novel were ever to be turned into a film, the soundtrack is already ready and waiting, and there is no reason why each song couldn't be played in full - who needs narrative? David Lynch would have to direct, of course.

1. Hand in Glove
2. I'm Not a Man
3. Kiss Me a Lot
4. Earth is the Loneliest Planet
5. One of Our Own
6. Forgive Someone
7. America is Not the World
8. Asleep
9. Friday Mourning
10. I Have Forgiven Jesus
11. Headmaster Ritual
12. Life is a Pigsty
13. Meat is Murder
14. Children in Pieces

With List of the Lost, Morrissey has re-written the rules of writing. This isn't merely a novel, it is a book which gives us both a gripping short story, combined with the autobiographical. There has been no other book like this one, and the art-hounds just won't get it, but then again, critics have NEVER gotten Morrissey. They will cry out for editing, but nobody ever edited Everyday is Like Sunday -  List of the Lost is what it is... whatever it is!

Being a fan of Morrissey's songs will not necessarily be enough to enjoy List of the Lost, for this is for a different audience. Twin Peaks fans, on the other hand, will love it.

If you smoke, then you shouldn't be surprised if you get lung cancer. If you read List of the Lost,  you shouldn't be surprised if the author leaves you feeling surprised. You have been warned.














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And now to Paris. I spent the early part of this morning watching footage, and it would appear to have been another marvellous night, with highlights once again including Kiss Me a LotBoxers, My Dearest Love and the wonderful, wonderful Oboe Concerto, which with all the excitement of hearing/seeing You'll Be Gone on Sunday night, I feel I haven't paid enough attention to. I LOVE Oboe Concerto!

On the subject of You'll Be Gone, Morrissey and the band reportedly tried starting it three times last night, before then giving up - with Morrissey allegedly saying, "three of us are human" - I wonder which three? I dearly hope this won't lead to You'll Be Gone being abandoned - it CAN'T be, it is as good as ANY cover Morrissey has ever done.

It has also been reported that Morrissey informed the Olympia audience that he would be going to see Charles Aznavour in concert on Friday. Well what do you know!








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WITH DICK GREGORY BACK DROP





PHOTOS COURTESY OF BRENDA SAB (@VERYVARY)

I am presuming that there were no blue roses in Paris, as none of the BRS were in attendance. Chucky Orange will, however, be attending a couple of concerts next week in Germany. How I would dearly love for Chuck to be the first European to have a blue rose accepted.

And on the subject of the BRS, the owner of the BRS tumblr has updated it to include myself, Kerry Cocktail and Bitchy Bobby Neville wearing our roses in London last Sunday.

*Goes off singing*
Mes traits ont vieilli, bien sûr, sous mon maquillage
Mais la voix est là, le geste est précis et j'ai du ressort
Mon cœur s'est aigri un peu en prenant de l'âge
Mais j'ai des idées, j'connais mon métier et j'y crois encore

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Day 1473 - I Could Already See Me

My blog entry of yesterday took all day to write, but was read by just a handful of people, and received comments from just three. I could, of course, leave it as my front page piece for a little longer, but it is already yesterday's news. MorrisseysWorld moves on - to Paris - and Paris has brought about the return of both Astra (in the comments section of Day 1467) and our favourite French mademoiselle, Fifi.

As I sat at my breakfast table this morning, re-watching (for the billionth time) Youtube footage of Morrissey singing the mesmerizing, You'll Be Gone from Hammersmith, Fifi suddenly appeared in The Twitterdilly Arms, and posted a video clip of Charles Aznavour performing Je m'voyais déjà in 1972.



Needless to say, I had never heard of this song. I watched the clip, which sees Aznavour take off his jacket and tie, and then sing the song whilst re-dressing! As I have very limited understanding of the French language, I had NO idea what Aznavour was singing about, so I googled the lyrics and opted for the English translation, which reads as follows:

I COULD ALREADY SEE ME

At 18 years old, I left my village
Determined to take a hold of my life
With a light heart and little luggage
I was sure to conquer Paris

At the finest tailor, I had made
This blue suit which was the latest fashion
Photographs, songs, and orchestrations
Ate up all my savings

I could already see myself at the top of the bill
Ten times larger than any other one's, my name was spread
I could already see myself adored and rich
Signing my photograhs to jostling fans

I was the greatest of the great dreamers
So successful that people rose to applaud me
I could already see myself looking on my list
For the one who at night would have the favour to hold my arm

My features have aged of course under my make-up
But my voice is strong, my gesture's precise, I have resilience
My heart embittered a bit with old age
But I have ideas, I know my job and I still believe in it

Just to feel the stage beneath my feet
To see in front of me an expecting audience, my heart beats fast
No one helped me, I didn't have much luck
But deep in my heart, at least I'm sure that I have talent

My blue suit, I've been wearing it for thirty years
And my songs make only me laugh
I'm chasing after fees, I go from door-to-door
To survive, I do anything

I only met easy successes
Night trains and soldier girls
Cheap fees and luggage to carry
Tiny furnished flats and light meals

I could already see myself in photograh
In the arms of a star, in winter in the snow, in summer under the sun
I could already see myself telling my life's tale
With a disillusioned look to beginners yearning for some tips

I opened peacefully at evening of premieres
One thousand telegrams from this Greater Paris which scares us so hard
And dying of stage fright before this audience
Coming onto the stage to the cheers and lights

I tried everything to stand out
I sung love songs, I sung funny things and even fantasy
If my career failed, if I didn't get out of the shadows
It's not my fault, but that of the audience who didn't understand anything

No one never ever ever gave my a chance
Others have succeeded with mediocre voices and made a lot of money
I was too pure or before my time
But the day will come when I will show them that I have talent

This song has Morrissey's name written all over it..... but I bet he doesn't attempt to sing it!


Kerry the Cocktail asked Mademoiselle Fifi if the posting of Je m'voyais déjà had anything to do with current location, to which Fifi responded with a picture of a poster of Charles Aznavour in concert.


When asked by Kerry if she would be attending, Fifi replied, "Absolument".

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Day 1472 - For with the dawn, you'll be gone





Oh, Morrissey, Morrissey, Morrissey! Where do I start? Where do I end? And what the f*ck goes in the middle? I guess the easiest thing to do is just let my little fingers type away, and see what comes out.

I turn 50 in ninety three days time, so what the hell was I doing two days ago, standing in the mosh pit at a concert? Surely this is a place for the kids! The answer is simple, in the 49 years and 272 days that I have so far been on this earth, I have found no greater high than the one that is obtained by being squashed amongst hundreds of sweaty Morrissey devotees, with us all singing at the tops of our voices? I have always enjoyed singing in groups, be it in a church choir (yes, I really was in my local church choir as a boy, and have very fond memories of it, even though I no longer believe in the subject matter of the songs), or on a football terrace, but being amongst fellow Morrissey fans, and to have the man himself standing right in front of us, singing with us ...... well, you can keep your drugs.

I am writing this 36 hours after attending Sunday nights concert at the Hammersmith Apollo, but the high still hasn't warn off. Songs from the concert are still spinning around inside my head. There were just SO many highlights, but the one song that keeps pushing it's way to the fore, is Morrissey's unbelievable rendition of an Elvis Presley song called, You'll be Gone.



I love Elvis, but I must confess that I had never heard this song before Sunday night, and when Morrissey started singing it, I thought it might even be a new song. I have since learned (from wiki!) that this beautiful, beautiful song, was one of only two songs that Elvis ever wrote himself. WHY OH WHY did Elvis not continue to write? Apparently Priscilla wasn't particularly enamoured by the song, so maybe Elvis's confidence as a songwriter was knocked beyond repair. It is a crying shame.

Anyway, back to Moz. I travelled up to London on Sunday morning with my Moz loving mate, Rich, and we met up with my New York companions of 2013, Midlife Matt (MM) and Sophie Twenty Something (STS) in The Dove pub in Hammersmith. Since my last mention of MM and STS, they have had a baby, named Morrissey Elvis, which suddenly seems VERY apt.


ME IN THE DOVE SPORTING A WHO IS MORRISSEY? T-SHIRT, A BLUE ROSE AND TWO BADGES (HOMBRE OLE AND NOT A MAN)

I had announced my whereabouts on Twitter, and invited BRS members to come and join me. To my surprise, Bitchy Bobby Neville, Kerry the Cocktail, and Kerry's man servant, Dave, all came to find me. To my greater surprise, they weren't armed, or at least if they were, they didn't reveal their weapons. To my greater, greater surprise, I soon realised over the course of a few drinks, that both BBN and K the C are both very nice people (and so is Dave, but I had never questioned that!). It wasn't long before these two members of the non rose wearing BRS splinter group, were fighting over who would wear my spare blue rose. BBN grabbed it first, but by the time we had reached the venue, he had lost out to KC, which was always inevitable.


BITCHY BOBBY WITH BLUE ROSE IN MOUTH......



.... WHICH SOON BECAME THE PROPERTY OF KC

As I stood in the queue to get in to the Apollo, which incidentally, I had never been to before, I got talking to two young lads in front of me. I was intrigued to know what two fresh faced young boys (they were both 17) were doing at a Morrissey concert. The first one admitted that this was the first concert that he had ever attended, and knew nothing of Morrissey's music. The reason he was here, was because he was accompanying his friend, who enthusiastically informed me that he had discovered Morrissey six months previously, and just loved him. He asked me, "have you heard his lyrics?" I managed to hold back a full blown laugh, but politely replied, "yes, yes I have. They're rather good aren't they?" My new friend continued, "have you heard the song, America's not the world? It's just amazing." I was a little taken aback. Of all the 200+ songs he could have chosen to mention, I wouldn't have for one minute imagined that it would be that one, but that's the beauty of Morrissey songs, they are ALL so good, that no two Moz fans would EVER pick the same top 5, or 10, or 100.

As we entered the venue, the boys shot up to the circle, and I headed for the pit.
It was already quite busy, but I spotted Kerry, Dave and Rob about 15 rows back, and joined them.




"We're going to get Boxers tonight or tomorrow", Kerry informed me. "No we won't", I replied. "I promise you we will", insisted Kerry, before adding, "but please don't blog about it, or it won't happen." 'How can I blog about it?", I asked, "I'm stood here in a concert hall!" "Well, if it's not tonight, it will be tomorrow, but promise you won't mention it", she pleaded. "What makes you think he will play it?", I asked. "He told me in the MorrisseysWorld chat room that he would sing it." I immediately remembered that last September, the St.Ill Moz pessoa had told us all that Boxers would be played on the upcoming tour, which a number of us then shared on twitter with anyone who would listen. It subsequently didn't happen, so I could see why Kerry didn't want it mentioned that she had received the wink, but as Boxers hadn't been sung live by Morrissey since 1995, I wasn't holding my breath.

There is no support act on this tour, so it was up to the pre-show video to get us warmed-up - how I dearly miss Kristeen Young. As the video played, we slowly edged our way forward. We bumped into former MorrisseysWorlder, RosyMires, so I took the opportunity to try and convince her that it really WAS Morrissey who had been behind MorrisseysWorld. Not unexpectedly, my words fell on deaf ears. Rosy has buried her head so deeply into the sand, it is a wonder that she can still breath.







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PHOTO COURTESY OF THE NON-BREATHING ROSY MIRES

I ended up about six rows from the front, alongside a couple of proper MozPitters, Paddy (@Padraigolaoigh) and Dave King (@DaveKingPhoto). Also in amongst it was tiny Julie Hamill, the founder of the twitter group MozArmy. She was keen to get a copy of her new book, 15 Minutes With You to the front, so that it could be handed to Moz.


As I stood shoulder to shoulder with my fellow meatheads, myself Paddy and Kinger took it in turns to start the Morr-ee-see, Morr-ee-see, Morr-ee-see chants that are obligatory at UK Moz concerts. Interestingly, TTY has today posted a pre-show Morrissey chant from a concert in LA, but the Yanks don't chant it in quite the same way as us Brits - they just aren't yobboey enough!

And then he appeared.

"I gave you my life", he cried, before launching straight into the magnificent Suedehead, and we were off. We jumped, we pushed, we sang. Next up was Alma Matters, a song that up until Moz took a blue rose during at the Hollywood High concert in 2013, had not particularly meant that much to me - these days it means EVERYTHING. Next came yet another cracker in the form of Speedway, and although we didn't get What Difference Does it Make during the pause (Ed - that was NEVER going to happen!), we did get the band swapping instruments. Boz's extra gusto on the drums at the end brought a smile from the boss. The reason I know that it brought a smile, is because my focus very rarely left Morrissey. It is always the same, and always has been, even in the days of The Smiths. You are drawn to Morrissey like a moth to a flame, and although his musicians are all very talented, it could be anyone stood up there alongside him for all I'd care.



Following Speedway came Ganglord, which on it's own would have made my night. I had seen the song perfor, er, sung live before, in 2009, but since then it has grown on me immensely, to the extent that Swords has been my vinyl album of choice to listen to in recent months. I found myself being drawn to watch the accompanying video of police violence, but only momentary, as once again the singer drew my gaze back to him.

We were then treated to three songs from the best album of 2014 (and there hasn't been one to better it in 2015) - Staircase at the University, Kiss Me a Lot and the title track, World Peace is None of Your Business. I could never tire of ANY of these three songs, all grabbing me for different reasons.

I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris and Istanbul next, followed by Morrissey stating that he hopes Jeremy Corbyn does NOT go to Buckingham Palace and kneel before the Third Reich. As I have written previously, I believe Corbyn will go and kneel, but he will be laughing to himself as he does it, because he will know it means NOTHING. And then we got The World Crashing Bores, a song from my favourite album of all time, You Are the Quarry. I sang along with all I had.

And they just kept coming. Back to the World Peace album for the sublime, I'm Not a Man, and this time I did manage to take my eyes off The Mozziah for a bit longer, as I studied the video screen desperately looking for a clue as to what film the accompanying clip comes from. I remain clueless.


Morrissey's introduction of his band concluded with him telling us that Boz Boorer was from, "The Bricklayer's Arms".



"The pain in Spain, falls mainly on the bull" - The Bullfighter Dies and Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed came next, and then Gustavo's long piano intro. I held my breath, whilst quietly saying to myself, "let it be Trouble, let it be Trouble, let it be Trouble". As the words "Yes, I am blind" left his lips, any disappointment I may have thought I might feel disappeared. I had never seen this song live, and I was hooked. It is one of those songs that I mentioned earlier, that is still spinning around my head. Yes, I am Blind will always remind me of the Santa Ana concert last May, when Morrissey not only accepted a blue rose, but serenaded it and wore it.

As if having Yes, I am Blind wasn't enough, the next song floored me - Oboe Concerto. I had hoped, I had hoped, I had hoped. And we got it. And it was.... well, it just was!

One of the other songs that I had written about wanting to be in the set was I Will See You In Far-Off Places, the opening track from the chart topping LP of 2006, Ringleader of the Tormentors. I wasn't to be disappointed, because not only did we get it, but it was as stunning as I remember it being back in 2012 in Manchester.

Meat is Murder, as usual, shamed me, especially as Morrissey sang, "what would ever make you care?" I have somehow convinced myself that as I no longer eat red meat, all is okay, but it isn't okay, and in answer to his question, I'm not sure that there is anything that will ever make me care enough to take the next step, or indeed ALL the steps. But who knows.

And from shame to jubilation - Morrissey's rendition of You'll Be Gone.



I have already played it, and played it, and played it. In fact, I have spent the last two hours going from Morrissey's version to Elvis's version, and they are both so, so good. Oh, Elvis, you gorgeous, talented man - you should have believed in yourself.

As Morrissey started to tell us about the song, the power in the building went off, and the band left the stage. When they returned, Morrissey told us that it was a conspiracy, and that Buckingham Palace were going to get him. Unfortunately, we didn't get to hear the rest of the Elvis story.

And so to the last song, Everyday is Like Sunday. Filled with Quando Quando Quando's, I bellowed with all I had left. What a song. What a song. What a song. As Morrissey stood right in front of where I was stood, I whipped my blue rose from my lapel, and launched it his way. As I was still 6 rows back, it fell short, and landed in the dry moat between us and him. Bugger!

The band left the stage. We chanted Morr-ee-see, Morr-ee-see, Morr-ee-see, and they came back on again - that's how it works! The second Smiths song of the night - What She Said. I had a feeling that as Morrissey had announced that the Hammersmith concerts would be his last, many fans would try and mount the stage, and I wasn't wrong - the crowd went bananas, with stage invading attempts coming from all directions. What I hadn't imagined would happen, was that I would be one of those jumping the barrier to try and make it onto the stage, but my  semi-successful attempt of 2009 in Great Yarmouth must have somehow returned to my head, and with no thought of being a bald headed 49 year old with a bad knee, I leapt..... and was subsequently wrestled to the ground!

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To my surprise, and delight, as I returned to my feet, I was met by Morrissey, holding out his hand. I shook it, we nodded to each other, and I walked away.



If yesterday's concert really does turn out to be Morrissey's last in the UK, then I will feel no regret at having not been there, as how could it possibly have lived up to my last act of Sunday? But was the handshake the highlight, or was it Oboe Concerto, or You'll Be Gone? The one thought that has kept coming back to me over the past two days, is that a 17 year old has discovered Morrissey, and I will never forget the excitement I saw on his face as he waited to see Morrissey for the first time. It thrills me beyond words. I dearly hope for his sake, that Morrissey returns.

And finally, it has been reported that David Walliams was in the audience on Sunday, and Marcus the Greek has reported on TWoM blog, that Russell Brand was in the audience for the following night's concert. The pair have no doubt been banned from attending on the same night after the Roundhouse debacle of 2008.

And as for Kerry's deluded prediction that Boxers would be played..... well it was, but it won't of course make the blindest bit of difference. Our story is old, but it goes on.



Morrissey started Monday's concert by not only once again singing You'll Be Gone, but with a line from another Elvis song, Always on My Mind. The line was, "If I made you feel second best, I'm so sorry I was blind". The combination of this line, the Elvis song, Boxers, and it being London, has instantly made me think of just one word - Jake. But I will leave it there.

Next stop, Paris, and Orangey Chuck's attempt to get a blue rose to Moz. I actually have a renewed belief that blue rose will grow, and our bond as a group might just start to get tighter.

*Goes off singing* For with the dawn, you'll be gone, for with the dawn, you'll be gone.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Day 1470 - Journey's end?

By all accounts, the concert in Hell, I mean, Hull, was electric, probably due to Morrissey's recent announcement that he may not play the uk again. I expect tonight will be pretty much the same, and to say I am excited is an understatement. I didn't sleep at all well last night, and haven't looked forward to a concert as much as this since, er, the last one in Bournemouth!

The BlueRoseSociety tumblr, which I believe to be the work of Morrissey, has been updated to include the 'toothbrush vine', EARS blue rose that she took to Hull, my blue rose that I'm taking today, and a wonderful new BRS video that has been made by Jenni T and posted on Youtube.



Right then, it is time for me to leave the bedsit, and head to London. I have three songs in my head, Ganglord, Trouble and Oboe. I am desperately hoping to see/hear one of them tonight.... actually, I am desperately hoping for all three, but I can't see us getting Trouble. Could this really be the last Morrissey concert that I will ever see in the UK?

Friday, 18 September 2015

Day 1468 - "Time trudges on'

In 1971, at the age of 55, Frank Sinatra announced his retirement. In 1973, at the Hammersmith Apollo, David Bowie announced that it was"the last show we will ever do".


Yesterday, Morrissey took a bit from Frank, and a bit from Bowie, and announced via True-To-You:

"There is absolutely no way that we can generate any interest from record labels in the United Kingdom, therefore the imminent two nights at Hammersmith are likely to be our final ever UK shows. We are obsessively grateful for all interest and loyalty from our audience ... throughout 28 years ... but without new releases, there is no point in any additional touring. Thank you for do many absolutely incredible times. The pleasure and privilege is mine ... "



This announcement has sent shock waves around Morrissey's world, but there is something else that caught my eye about the statement, the three sets of '...'. The reason that these dots stood out, is because they immediately reminded me of one of Morrissey's long forgotten twitter pessoas, '@dotdotdotpause' (later changed to '@dots_and_dots', as mentioned in the MorrisseysWorld Quiz of 2012).
This dotty pessoa, who I used to refer to as my 'Spirit of Nico', introduced me to Dante's La Vita Nuova, and when Dotty disappeared, she was replaced in the Twitterdilly Arms by none other than Astra, as documented on Day 818 of FTM. This leads me on to the sad news that Astra, just like Morrissey, has decided to retire, and has called time on her stint in The Arms. She made the announcement at 2am on Tuesday morning on The World of Moz blog:

My twitter account is permanently closed in silent outrage that there were no pictures of blonde Biebs on any of the blobs. And for a couple of other reasons. But primarily for the first reason. I’m not all fun and games you know. I have to draw the line somewhere.

And lest anyone think that I’m joking – just try me.

Oh, but I almost forgot, you can’t now – because this is the end.
C’est dommage.

Tears will have tears. Sadness will sigh. But time trudges on.

You were always going to miss me when I’m gone.

And 'when', is right now.

ASTRA
Astra also added a further comment at 2am yesterday morning:

Weather has turned. Temperature has changed. Palm leaves have now been put away for the season. 
Which means that someone will now need to keep my twin manservants warm. And that someone, will be… MOI.
God smiles. I laugh. The manservants are absolutely delighted with my VERY hands-on approach. And now we can all sleep easily, and dream of before.
Blue roses in the heart. Farewell. Au revoir.
Goodnight. Goodbye. And thank you.

ASTRA

Gina Lollobrigida and a tame deer. Photograph by Peter Stackpole. Toronto, Canada, July 1960.


So, Astra has gone. I may feel slightly sad, but I won't cry, after all, we have all felt disappointed many, many times in the past when pessoas have gone, especially Our Mozzer, but there is usually another one just around the corner. I am also not in the least bit saddened by the Morrissey statement about there being no more UK concerts, because quite frankly, I 100% believe it is the right thing for him to do. What is more, if Monday night's concert at Hammersmith Apollo turns out to be his last ever UK gig, then I will eat my own ratty testicles.



And whilst I am on the subject of both pessoas and Morrissey's retirement, Kerry the Cocktail has reminded me of what Fifi said the other day, "I am Fifi the record company slayer ... I am considering retiring my slayer career. I may become a full-time gothic romance writer." - another BRS exclusive.

MADEMOISELLE FIFI - FRENCH GOTHIC ROMANCE WRITER EXTRAORDINAIRE

The fact that Morrissey still hasn't been able to secure a record deal is incredibly frustrating, both for him and us fans, especially as we know that there is material ready to release. There is certainly no point in Morrissey singing the new songs live, as he did with Action, Kid and People, because without a record deal, the songs quickly become too old to release as new material.

The TTY announcement had the likes of Tim Burgess tweeting to offer Moz a deal on his label, but as I pointed out to TB, Morrissey is only interested in the majors. I then had a twitter conversation with Burgess about Morrissey, Twin Peaks, and the fact that Moz has secretly been on Twitter for four years. He has favourited my link to FTM, but rather bizarrely, has deleted the whole of our twitter conversation. Hmm. Here is a photo of me & Tim from when we met on a fort in 2012:

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THE FIRST PHOTO OF ME ON THIS BLOG EVER

Tonight Morrissey and his band will appear in Hull, where BRS member, EARS, will once again attend with a blue rose in hand. She tweeted a picture of it earlier today:


















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"BLUE ROSES IN THE HEART" - ASTRA

I too will once again take a blue rose on Sunday, just as I did to Manchester, Manhattan, Long Island, Brooklyn, London and Bournemouth, but I won't be attempting to get on stage with it, I will be content to walk around with it in my lapel. As it will be the 'final ever UK show' that I attend, I can but wish for the following set:

1. HAND IN GLOVE
2. ART-hOUNDS
3. YOU HAVE KILLED ME
4. SPEEDWAY (WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE SUNG DURING THE PAUSE)
5. STAIRCASE AT THE UNIVERSITY 
6. WORLD PEACE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS 
7. MEAT IS MURDER 
8. FIRST OF THE GANG TO DIE 
9. LET ME KISS YOU 
10. I WILL SEE YOU IN FAR-OFF PLACES 
11. NOVEMBER SPAWNED A MONSTER 
12. SUEDEHEAD 
13. MOUNTJOY
14. OBOE CONCERTO
15. WILL NEVER MARRY
16. EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY
17. TROUBLE LOVES ME 
18. KICK THE BRIDE DOWN THE AISLE 
19. HOW SOON IS NOW? 
20. I KNOW IT'S GONNA HAPPEN SOMEDAY
ENCORE
21. NOW MY HEART IS FULL
22. THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT 

Thursday, 17 September 2015

Day 1467 - Assassinated

It has now been four years since I stumbled across the MorrisseysWorld blog and twitter account, and subsequently started this blog - FOUR YEARS!!!..... and I was late to the party, as MorrisseysWorld had started four months previously, without me knowing anything about it - even though True To You had given us all a HUGE clue!


MorrisseysWorld has now gone, and because of that, I no longer write this blog on a daily basis like an excited schoolboy, but old habits die hard, and I still find myself coming here occasionally to release my thoughts and observations - today is one such occasion.

Morrissey kicked off the latest leg of his tour on Tuesday night, in Plymouth of all places. Hardly any Youtube clips have emerged, but that may be because Youtube clips are predominately posted by young people, and Plymouth's large university population are still in summer recess.

The set slightly differed from Morrissey's last concert on August 29th in California, with My Dearest Love, Now My Heart is Full, Will Never Marry and I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris replacing Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?, People are the Same Everywhere, Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before, Yes I am Blind and First of the Gang to Die.


PHOTO COURTESY OF LOUDER THAN WAR - NEW BACK DROP PICTURE IS OF A 1970S NEW YORK GANG FEATURED IN THE FILM RUBBLE KINGS (THANKS TO GWO)


THIS PICTURE WAS ALSO USED AS A BACK DROP IN PLYMOUTH (ALSO 70S NEW YORK GANG RELATED - THANKS AGAIN GWO)

The Plymouth venue apparently banned beach balls, although I don't think there was any mention of inflatable roses. No blue roses were taken to the concert as far as I am aware, but then again, why would there have been? Kerry the Cocktail and LizzyCat Moz attended the concert, but both had previously stated that they have no interest in carrying out Our Mozzer's request to wear or take a rose - it's a shame, but each to their own.

Morrissey is reported to have said to the Plymouth audience, "What do you all think of Jeremy Corbyn? He's vegetarian, he is anti-war, and he hates the Royals, as we all do. He's going to be assassinated."
Jeremy Corbyn is the newly elected leader of the Labour party, who in his first week as leader, refused to sing the National Anthem; which caused unbelievable uproar and outrage, but has given many of us hope that here at last, is a man prepared to stand up for his principles rather than do and say what he thinks he should, just to climb the political ladder. Morrissey has today posted on TTY his response to the outrage.
Jeremy Corbyn
As to whether Corbyn does actually get assassinated, we shall have to wait and see, but the British right wing press have certainly wasted no time in assassinating him in print, and there is no doubt that the establishment are scared stiff of Corbyn having such a position of power. The establishment will soon MAKE Corbyn kneel and bow to the Queen, and they will also MAKE him sing along to her tune, but what they can't do is change the way he feels.... there's a song there somewhere! If he can keep his position of power, and can avoid assassination, then maybe, just maybe, he can bring about change.



We now only have one week to wait until Morrissey's debut novel, List of the Lost, is released. The very first mention anywhere that Morrissey was writing a novel, came from the man himself, ON TWITTER, on Saturday November 17th 2012, as reported on FTM. There was no official word of a novel being written until a TTY Q&A session on January 2nd 2014. HOW did the TTY mention fail to bring the masses running to MorrisseysWorld? The answer is, because only the Dreary Deluded Dozen were paying attention.
We still don't know what the novel is about, and Penguin's snippet released today doesn't exactly help.








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That will do for today. I now have just a few days to go before I get to see Moz live for the eighth time since MorrisseysWorld started in 2011. I have seen/heard 51 different songs in those four years, as follows:

1. I WANT THE ONE I CAN'T HAVE 2011
2. IRISH BLOOD, ENGLISH HEART 2011, 2013, 2015
3. YOU'RE THE ONE FOR ME, FATTY 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013
4. EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY 2011, 2013, 2014, 2015
5. THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT 2011
6. ACTION IS MY MIDDLE NAME 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013, 2013
7. COME BACK TO CAMDEN 2011
8. I KNOW IT'S OVER 2011, 2012, 2013
9. SCANDINAVIA 2011, 2012, 2014, 2015
10. OUIJA BOARD, OUIJA BOARD 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013
11. SATELLITE OF LOVE 2011
12. THE KID'S A LOOKER 2011
13. YOU HAVE KILLED ME 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013
14. I'M THROWING MY ARMS AROUND PARIS 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013, 2014, 2015
15. ONE DAY GOODBYE WILL BE FAREWELL 2011, 2013, 2013
16. SPEEDWAY 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013, 2014, 2015
17. MEAT IS MURDER 2011, 2012, 2013, 2013, 2014, 2015
18. FIRST OF THE GANG TO DIE 2011, 2013
19. HOW SOON IS NOW? 2012, 2013(TOOTHBRUSH), 2013
20. MALADJUSTED 2012, 2013, 2013
21. LAST NIGHT I DREAMT THAT SOMEBODY LOVED ME 2012
22. WHEN LAST I SPOKE TO CAROL 2012
23. PEOPLE ARE THE SAME EVERYWHERE 2012, 2013
24. TO GIVE (THE REASON I LIVE) 2012, 2013
25. BLACK CLOUD 2012, 2013
26. LET ME KISS YOU 2012, 2013, 2013
27. I WILL SEE YOU IN FAR-OFF PLACES 2012
28. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME GET WHAT I WANT 2012, 2013
29. STILL ILL 2012, 2013, 2013
30. SHOPLIFTERS OF THE WORLD UNITE 2013, 2013
31. ALMA MATTERS 2013, 2013
32. THE YOUNGEST WAS THE MOST LOVED 2013
33. NOVEMBER SPAWNED A MONSTER 2013, 2013
34. SWEET AND TENDER HOOLIGAN 2013
35. THE QUEEN IS DEAD 2014, 2015
36. SUEDEHEAD 2014, 2015
37. STAIRCASE AT THE UNIVERSITY 2014, 2015
38. WORLD PEACE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS 2014, 2015
39. KISS ME A LOT 2014, 2015
40. ISTANBUL 2014, 2015
41. SMILER WITH KNIFE 2014, 2015
42. THE BULLFIGHTER DIES 2014, 2015
43. TROUBLE LOVES ME 2014
44. EARTH IS THE LONELIEST PLANET 2014
45. NEAL CASSADY DROPS DEAD 2014, 2015
46. KICK THE BRIDE DOWN THE AISLE 2014, 2015
47. I'M NOT A MAN 2014, 2015
48. ASLEEP 2014
49. ONE OF OUR OWN 2015
50. WHAT SHE SAID 2015
51. STOP ME IF YOU THINK YOU'VE HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE 2015
(Shows: Aug 8 2011 - London Paladium ("Welcome to my world".... *laughs to self*), July 28 2012 - Manchester Arena, January 8 2013 - Late Show New York, January 9 2013 - Tilles Center Long  Island ('Toothbrush'), January 11 2013 - BAM Brooklyn, November 29 2014 - O2 Arena London and March 14 2015 - Bournmouth IC)

There are a number of songs that have been sung over the past four years that I haven't ever witnessed live, including: Art-hounds, Mountjoy, Oboe Concerto, Now My Heart is Full, My Dearest Love, Will Never Marry, Yes, I Am Blind and I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday. I would love to see ANY ONE of those songs sung live on Sunday, although I won't hold my breath for I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday. If Oboe Concerto is sung, I will be one happy rat.


MORRISSEY IN PLYMOUTH

Toothbrush Vine






Thanks to Rosy Mires

Thursday, 10 September 2015

Day 1460 - BEYOND BELIEF... and other gothic romances

My request of Tuesday that we get our long awaited parody piece has been answered, but not in full, and certainly not as expected. Instead of actually posting a parody piece on FTM, a snippet of a parody has been posted on.... wait for it.... TRUE TO YOU! Here it is:

9 September 2015

Michael Bracewell comments on Morrissey being without a record label

"The situation is BEYOND BELIEF..... not wishing to be facile, but this is like Hockney being unable to get a gallery, only slightly worse and even more baffling... How very odd that the cost of being an icon is isolation..."

It is written in exactly the same style that all MorrisseysWorld pieces involving Mikey Bracewell are written, such as this one on Day 767 of FTM: Reviewing the Reviewers, but of course the brainless meatheads over at So-low have NO IDEA that this is a parody piece, having collectively turned their backs on MorrisseysWorld from the very start, when their commander-in-chief, Uncle Sweaty, TOLD THEM ALL to. Sweaty himself has taken this TTY statement at face value, and has left a comment on So-low   to say that Morrissey won't get a record deal unless he changes his band members - the same band members that helped him reach No.2 with World Peace Is None of Your Business! You couldn't make this up!

I would be VERY surprised if Michael Bracewell had anything to do with the TTY quote, and it instantly reminded me of a quote on twitter by some old OM or other, which read, "Washing my own hair is tiresome beyond belief. I mean, I cannot imagine Alan Bennett washing his own hair."

Hopefully we will get the new parody piece, in full, within the next few days.


MICHAEL 'MIKEY' BRACEWELL - NOT WISHING TO BE FACILE

Another TTY statement has also been posted today, entitled List of the Lost, number one, which points out that Morrissey's soon to be released novel is positioned at Number 1 in four different Gothic Romance Amazon charts. Morrissey has commented, "I am either too nervous to be excited or too excited to be nervous."

It has been suggested by some that the four mentions of the book being in the Gothic Romance section is a little bit overkill, which may mean Morrissey finds it highly amusing to have been registered as a Gothic Romance novelist.

I actually got the opportunity to ask the man himself about it this morning, as he was loitering around the Twitterdilly Arms toilets in his French tart guise. I don't usually share my private conversations any more, but this one is of public interest, and our favourite French maid is very funny, so here it is:

ME: GOTHIC ROMANCE?

FIFI: Oui, gothic romance. Do you like it? It's about pale people with too much eye make-up falling in love. So gothic romance. Honestly, I have no idea.

ME: Typical that you couldn't be categorised, so they plonked you in with Buffy the Vampire Slayer... you aren't Buffy, are you?

FIFI: I wish I was. But I am only Fifi the record company slayer.

ME: Ain't that the truth. The question is, are there any left to slay?

FIFI: Oui but I am considering retiring my slayer career. I may become a full-time gothic romance writer.

Fifi also noticed that I had tweeted this morning to say that I was dancing around my kitchen dancing to Jobriath. She informed me that she too was dancing in her kitchen, and challenged me to a "shirt-throwing face-off". (ED - The real Morrissey would NEVER use the word face-off!) I accepted the challenge, but was later informed by Mlle on twitter that I had lost! No surprises there.



(Gif taken from The World of Moz blogsite)

As excuses go for being late for work, having a shirt-throwing face-off with Morrissey in the toilets of an imaginary internet pub must be right up there. In fact, has anyone else in the world EVER used the excuse that they were late for work because they were chatting to Morrissey on twitter? I didn't use either of the above two excuses, but if I ever write an autobiography, poetic licence will be enforced.

In other news, the Blue Rose Society has picked up a Youtube blogger called Jenni, who has noticed Morrissey's various hand signals on stage. Jenni has published a video on YT entitled, Morrissey Likes Blue Roses, although NOBODY will take notice, they never do! Welcome aboard Jenni, who incidentally I previously featured on Day 1368, singing along to Tomorrow - a classic.


And as we gain Jenni, it looks like we have lost Father Brian, whose son Kyle is currently the BRS President. Brian tweeted yesterday, "Never thought I'd give up after 25 years, but it feels great to shake the obsession. That night opened my eyes! Ignored. Done. Out. TY."

I can only guess that perhaps Morrissey didn't invite Kyle on stage at Madison Square Gardens, but Brian surely must know by now that everything Morrissey does is on HIS terms. It has to be - that's why he is Morrissey. All references to Morrissey and the BRS have been removed from Father Brian's profile, but hopefully, one day, he will find his way back.

And finally, Morrissey may well be Number 1 in the Gothic Romance Charts, but in the UK Hit Parade, this week's Number 1, for the first time ever, is none other than Justin Bieber, with his song, What Do You Mean? As with most singles these days, there is no physical release, so technically, even Justin Bieber hasn't got a record label. Now that is BEYOND BELIEF. Perhaps Biebs will turn to writing Gothic Romances too.

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Day 1458 - Touch Me

It has now been 54 days since Our Mozzer, via R, returned to FTM and suggested that he would publish a new parody piece. It has also been 40 days since OM, via R, promised us "a treat" of a "a short piece of prose" - written by both OM and Broken, and edited by Mikey which, we were told, "will touch you in ways words never have." The question is, WHERE THE FUCK IS IT? WHERE THE FUCK IS ANY OF IT?

It has been four long years since I did that stumbling thing that is mentioned at the top of this blog, and since that initial stumble, I have spent god knows how many hours/days/months writing this shitty two bit blog, just so that the story of MorrisseysWorld and the Blue Rose Society can one day be read by all, and what thanks do I get from Mr Subject Matter? None! Have I ever asked for anything? No! Well I'm asking now, GIVE US THE EFFING PARODY PIECE AND TOUCHY PROSE. GIVE IT TO US NOW, OR OTHERWISE I AM OFF TO BLOG ABOUT GEORGE MICHAEL.



While I am here, I guess that I may as well mention that Morrissey finished his US tour with an excellent rendition of a song I had never heard of before, Are You Sure Hank Done It That Way, and he also debuted the wonderful, Oboe Concerto:






Also while I am here, I will mention that Morrissey recently attended the London film premier of the new Krays based film, Legend, where he went dressed as Cheryl Cole (thanks to Roberto Ferdenzi for pointing out the similarity):



                          MOZ & CHEZ - TWO PEAS IN A POD

And also while I am here, Morrissey has been photographed at an Anti-Fur demo in London this week, and his nephew has posted a picture of Moz & his sister as babies:






And also, also while I am here, Manc Lad has found on the Napoli Today website (God only knows what Manc Lad was doing looking on Italian websites) an article saying that Morrissey will be playing new songs from an album to be released in the New Year. Could there possibly be any truth to this?

And also, also, also while I am here, Fifi was lurking in The Twitterdilly Arms on Saturday morning, and favourited a tweet of mine that read: "What's your dreams, your goals, your ambitions and aims? He laughed and said, Shame is the name." Hash tag SwordsMorning.

Embedded image permalink

I presume that Fifi was just letting me know that she still looks in occasionally, as opposed to that actual tweet meaning anything, but who knows?

And finally, WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT PARODY PIECE?

Must it really all end here, with me, a desperate, washed-out nobody pleading for a grain of something?



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