His 14th album isn’t going to do much to change his strange place in the world, but it proves his pain is real too
Morrissey’s 14th album Make-Up Is a Lie finds him wearing all his favorite guises: eternal romantic, tireless crank, fragile old soul, free speech martyr, rock-nostalgia torchbearer, heavenly miserablist. He claims his years of controversial political utterances have made it hard for him to find a label to release the record, his first in five years. He ended up on Sire, which put out the Smiths and his early solo work. “I want to move away from those who stare at screens all day/I want to speak up and to not be trapped by censorship,” he sings against the Eighties-alt-rock guitar sparkle of “You’re Right, It’s Time,” more than one example here where clunky self-absorption gets in the way of a pretty good song.
The nadir is the sallow disco shitpost “Notre Dame,” in which he floats the xenophobic conspiracy theory that the 2019 fire that destroyed Notre Dame cathedral was the result of an uninvestigated terrorist attack. (He made the lyrics here a little more vague compared to the version he performed live but the intent still seems pretty obvious.) Mostly, though, he avoids dicey subject matter for solid autobiographical songwriting. “Zoom Zoom the Little Boy” sets two classic Moz themes – passionate animal rights advocacy and deep misanthropy — to a fun Swinging Sixties tune. A number of songs return to his deepest childhood musical loves. “Lester Bangs” is a tribute to the 1970s rock critic whose reviews of the New York Dolls and Roxy Music changed his life when he was a sad teenager — “this nerd hangs on your word.” “The Night Pop Dropped” returns to the shock of David Bowie’s death to honor his greatness, and Morriseey lovingly knocks out a zesty cover of the Roxy Music deep cut “Amazona.”
Those reflections on youthful passion contrast sharply with the Mozzer’s current state of self-pity. On “Boulevard” the only thing he can empathize with is a lonely street trod upon and senselessly abused. “Birds shit/Schoolboy’s spit/Right at you,” he moans. He recently had to cancel some tour dates due to health issues, and on “Headache” he offers an assessment of mortality that’s pretty morose even for him: “Man born of woman has a short time to live/And it’s still too long,” the 66 year-old artist intones. For many people, even longtime fans, dealing with Morrissey has become a headache. This album isn’t going to do much to change his strange place in the world, but his pain is real too.
