Review:

on 2011-05-31 CharlesMartel Said:

I know this might be heresy to say so, especially for someone for whom mid-eighties post-punk is the epitome of his personal musical preferences, but I never really thought the Smiths were as good as other people did. I accept that their place in musical history is solid, and their influence immense. Yes, the Smiths almost single-handedly brought what had hitherto been an underground musical scene to the attention of the majority of the public; I agree that the band's complete disdain for the lip-synching requirements of Top of the Pops as demonstrated by Morrissey waving a bunch of gladioli around was iconic; I agree that their sound was to influence, possibly even to create, a genre known as jangle pop. But the truth is, I never really got captivated by them. So when Morrisey went solo after the band split up in the late eighties, I didn't know where it was all going.

In the end, I am not sure it went well for Morrisey. Morrisey without Marr is like fish without chips - doesn't make any sense. Johnny Marr may have been bombed out of his skull a lot of the time towards the end of the life of the Smiths, but he provided the musical impetus for Morrissey's lyrics and voice. Take that away impetus and you are left with a crooner who can't croon, a lyricist with no music worthy of note to put it to and a man who once fronted one of the defining pop bands of the eighties and is now a shadow of his former self. Morrisey may have been the front of the Smiths, but Marr was the power behind it.

To be honest, although I never raved over the Smiths like some did, I always retained a soft spot for their music. Yet Morrisey's solo career has been a huge disappointment to me. After buying this album, I never went back to his music. The Smiths, and what they were, parted company with myself after the release of "Panic".

Of all the tracks on "Viva Hate", the only one which appeals is "Every Day Is Like Sunday". Anyone who has ever sat through a miserable, wet, windy Sunday afternoon in this country will know exactly where the song comes from. Of the rest, well "Alsatian Cousin" is OK I suppose, but "Bengali in Platforms" is truly hideous. "Suedehead" is a product of its time, a time perhaps best forgotten, and the rest is pretty much forgettable. Apart from anything else, Morrisey seemed to be desperately trying to recreate some sort of commercially exploitable sound and ended up instead sounded like a grumpy old man singing distinctly middle of the road melodies.

Morrisey on this album sounds more miserable than he ever did with the Smiths. He had created for himself a persona of a tall, gladioli-swinging misfit who ate no meat, never had sex (though that turned out to be a lie) and wasn't really much of a singer either. Truth be told, I never put the Smiths in the same category as I did with many of the other post punk bands. Morrisey's solo career, at least with this opener, does not take things significantly further forward. I compare this with the Chameleons, Fischer-Z and the early Psychedelic Furs and it just doesn't cut it in the same way. I know that some people rate this, and much that Morrissey has done, highly, but to me this will always be second division behind the Smiths and third division behind the rest.
Rating: 5/10