Song of the Day: April 29, 2012
The Smiths, “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out”
Back in January, I began contributing to the MusicWar! tumblog with a piece about the pending reunion of a fave Northern unit, Madchester’s Stone Roses. And thus began a four-month rekindling of my love affair with pop music, rock writing, and the public discussion thereof.
So. Today finds me ending my temporary association with Mize & the boys on the same note with which I entered into it: a piece about the pending reunion (well, not really: turns out Johnny already scotched it here: http://www.pitchfork.com/news/46314-the-smiths-reforming-this-fall/) of a fave Northern unit, the Smiths, and one of that band’s most cherished numbers, with lyrical fragments that reveal not only Morrissey’s “there is none blacker” outlook but also his deliciously morbid sense of humor.
If you haven’t already perused it, an old writing friend, Simon Reynolds, penned a tome last year — “Retromania: Pop Culture’s Addiction to its Own Past” — that featured not only the Smiths and Stone Roses but a host of other acts whose self-consciously backward-looking sounds and POV made them prime fodder for a critical analysis of how the past is the leading economic indicator of the future of music, film, fashion, and most other forms of Pop Life. (You can check out Reynolds’ blog here: http://retromaniabysimonreynolds.blogspot.com/) For his part, Morrissey railed against synthesizers and most of the other signifiers of what passed, in the ’80s, for “modern” pop, preferring instead to champion the sounds of the ’60s (the Byrds chiming jangle, the lyrical/attitudinal influence of Dusty Springfield, Sandie Shaw, and Marianne Faithfull) and the visual iconography of that era (cover artwork that often featured images of cult actors such as Terence Stamp, Alain Delon, Jean Marais and obscure pop figures like Viv Nicholson, Yootha Joyce and Shelagh Delaney).
It seems doubtful now that the Smiths will ever reunite, for a host of different reasons, but a boy can dream can’t he? Mize and company: thanks for letting me under the tent for a while, where there’s music and there’s people and they’re young and alive. Peace out. (CdB)