It’s
ridiculously cliché to say you like The Smiths these days. Anyone with a preference
for indie music (and that’s all different music tastes are) is immediately shot
down. I feel like I ought to pen a few reasons to defend my fellow The Smiths
fans so they can have them on metaphorical flash cards to whip out every time
some NME-reader decides they want to have a go.
Morrissey was
a bit of a weirdo. In the same way in which Bowie was revolutionary in his
hey-day, Morrissey gives a bit of confidence to the weirdos. Whenever I'm having
a baggy jeans and no make-up day, where I use men’s shower gel and feel like
cutting my hair up to my ears, I often listen to The Smiths. We’ve all had a Last Night I Dreamt kind of day and, in
a way only music can achieve, Complete
[all The Smith’s songs on one compilation album] is the only solace I can find.
In Morrissey’s dulcet tones I’m reminded of how ordinary I am and how ordinary the
world really is.
“Everyday, you must
say, ‘oh how do I feel about my shoes?’” –Accept Yourself
Although a
bit depressing (I’ll give NME that), I find that The Smiths, or Morrissey at
least, had a unique way of seeing the world that I find, not only brutally
honest, but brutally poetic even almost 30 years later.
Not only
were they the theme tune to one of the greatest shows ever, Charmed if you still weren’t sure, they
inspired a lot of other musicians. Even James Franco’s (largely unknown) band
list them as one of their musical inspirations. Artists like The Stone Roses
have been (maybe not consciously) influenced by The Smith’s sound, and Suede
followed in The Smith’s dark, poetic footsteps lyrically. I think, although it’s
a bit of a stretch and a bit of a wild claim, I’d go so far as to say that, without
Morrissey and Marr’s musical unification, we may never have had some of our
most-loved music. It’s definitely fair enough to say that they left a pretty
large stamp on music when they split in ’87.
I've had
some of my most memorable moments of adolescence sound-tracked to The Smiths. My
first trip to Camden Market flashes in my mind every time I hear Girlfriend in a Coma, The Boy with The Thorn in His Side reminds
me of a camping trip I went on in my friend’s back garden, and I remember balling my eyes out sitting upright in bed the
first time I heard Asleep and it
shook my very soul. Not only were The Smiths important to younger musicians and
music journalists looking to torment the lead singer, The Smiths were important
to everyday people. They were important to the humdrum families living in
council estates and the brutalist architecture of the 80s, and they were important
to pained teenagers sitting in their bedrooms letting their records spin
countless times as they scrawled in leather-bound notebooks. I probably have a
lot in common with my Mum when she was 19 years old (we do spin the exact same vinyl); and I like to think that times haven’t
changed that much apart from the fact that I can listen to Hatful of Hollow from my iPhone rather than a Walkman.
Not only do
they have inventive artwork for all their singles (check
out this article on the history of their artwork here (I know its from NME, I can’t
help it), The Smiths also had powerful political messages. Ranging from a
fierce campaign for vegetarianism, to the Moors Murderers, to slating Thatcher;
Morrissey definitely had something to say on his records. Amongst their catalogue
of songs exploring suicide, the injustice of being frustrated, and love; The
Smiths had a point to make about the class system and suburbs.
“These are the riches
of the poor” –I Want the One I Can’t Have
“Manchester, so much
to answer for”-Suffer Little Children
They have
such a wide discography containing ballads, up-beat toe tappers, and some
classic records; if I even tried to list
my all-time favourite The Smiths songs, I’d positively die. And then be buried
in my Salford Lads Club tshirt, of course.
You can
check out Complete on Spotify here, please do, it may
change your life.
