Morrissey, London Kentish Town Forum

Gig Played: Sat 13 Nov 1999

Twelve years into his increasingly irrelevant solo career and currently without a record deal, the one-time Smiths singer now resides in California – the rest-home for forgotten British stars, as his idol Wilde once decreed.

Much of his dwindling fanbase is American these days, yet his first British shows in two years are sold out regardless, the crowds comprising many ageing Smiths die-hards, their comedy quiffs still in evidence if receding a tad.

The laddish sector of the audience (an element of any Moz gig as predictable as the many stage invasions) herald the show with a chorus of 'Morrissey, Morrisey, Morissey' to the tune of 'Ere we go…' terrace chant. Yet the ensuing performance suggests the goalposts of pop were moved many years ago fro El Mobo.

Flanked by his usual band of plodding rent-a-mechanics, Moz whips his mic-lead manfully through a one-hour set taking in most of his albums ('Kill Uncle' is wisely ignored), a couple of b-sides (including the excellent 'Hairdresser On Fire'), and three crowd-pleasing Smiths numbers – though the track selection curiously leans towards the obscure.

A request for the single 'Ouija Board Ouija Board' is curtly dismissed: "It's the first time I've ever had a request for that – and it will be completely ignored," he smirks, in a set that includes a few solo A-sides. Moreover, his lack of solo chart action is obviously amusing for the ever-arch Moz, who after playing 'November Spawned A Monster', announces: "That one failed to make it onto 'Now That's What I Call Music 30' – but I survived".

Highlights include the single 'Sonny'. 'Break Up The Family' and the gorgeous 'Now My Heart Is Full', yet the Smiths tracks unsurprisingly receive the biggest cheers. The formerly sprightly 'Is It Really So Strange?' is ruined by pedestrian guitar work, while the one-song encore of 'Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me' is similarly so-so.

Closing track 'Meat Is Murder', mind , proves Moz still holds his political beliefs dear. Suggesting that fox hunting will never be banned in Britain; "You're naïve if you think Prince William will be denied his right to kill". The ageing activist repeatedly intones the mantra, "The slave trade; the Holocaust; the meat industry" – reminiscent of some barmy old schoolmistress lecturing an ever-diminishing class of pupils, many of whom have long since played truant, settled down in suburbia, or deferred to Newfangled Dance Music Comprehensive.

Still, it's nice to see that in some ways at least, the ever contrary Miss Haversham Of Pop hasn't really changed, as we peer briefly into the latest chapter of The Secret Diary Of Stephen Morrissey Aged 40 and ¾: The Wilderness Years. Sure, his hit-making potential may have dried up long ago, but his wit and vocal prowess remain intact. And hey, at least he hasn't been reduced to playing in an 80s nostalgia package at Wembley alongside Lloyd Cole and Edwyn Collins.

Stephen Eastwood