I can’t quite picture the average Morrissey fan based on the comments on this site—who are you people, really?

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I just posted The Spectator's 'Best of Douglas Murray' over in the 'It's Not About Politics' Thread. He makes an interesting point that 'the left' have never liked an 'apostate', i.e. someone who used to be on 'the left', but isn't any longer. There is a particular level of hatred and vitriol reserved for such people, he suggests.
Does this explain some of the hatred expressed towards Morrissey, both in the legacy media, and on this website? Because Morrissey used to be seen as 'one of them'. He was critical of Thatcher, he voiced support for Tony Benn, The Smiths played at Red Wedge etc. And now he is viewed as a 'turn coat'. A traitor to the cause.
I certainly think that explains at least some of the vitriol.
 
I just posted The Spectator's 'Best of Douglas Murray' over in the 'It's Not About Politics' Thread. He makes an interesting point that 'the left' have never liked an 'apostate', i.e. someone who used to be on 'the left', but isn't any longer. There is a particular level of hatred and vitriol reserved for such people, he suggests.
Does this explain some of the hatred expressed towards Morrissey, both in the legacy media, and on this website? Because Morrissey used to be seen as 'one of them'. He was critical of Thatcher, he voiced support for Tony Benn, The Smiths played at Red Wedge etc. And now he is viewed as a 'turn coat'. A traitor to the cause.
I certainly think that explains at least some of the vitriol.
I feel he’s too vague, too all over the place, to really be considered a ‘turncoat’. And he was never Billy Bragg in the first place. Nor is he now, for that matter, the second coming of Enoch Powell. Let’s all go easy on the projecting.
 
I feel he’s too vague, too all over the place, to really be considered a ‘turncoat’. And he was never Billy Bragg in the first place. Nor is he now, for that matter, the second coming of Enoch Powell. Let’s all go easy on the projecting.
In the final analysis, Morrissey's roots are white working class. Yes, he's become relatively wealthy, and has lived in LA etc. - but your roots are what make you what you are. Same as John Lydon. And the white working class across the Western world have turned against the modern left. Because, of course, the modern left see the white working class as the enemy. They are embarrassed by them. They have no desire to speak for them, or to them. When you understand this, you understand Morrissey, and his outlook on modern politics.
 
In the final analysis, Morrissey's roots are white working class. Yes, he's become relatively wealthy, and has lived in LA etc. - but your roots are what make you what you are. Same as John Lydon. And the white working class across the Western world have turned against the modern left. Because, of course, the modern left see the white working class as the enemy. They are embarrassed by them. They have no desire to speak for them, or to them. When you understand this, you understand Morrissey, and his outlook on modern politics.
Yes, of course his roots are what they are. And I agree that the working class has been left out in the cold by the left. That doesn’t change the fact that Morrissey was never a Billy Bragg type figure or that he is now an Enoch Powell figure. And thus, he shouldn’t be considered a ‘turncoat’.
 
Why put so much energy into a space dedicated to someone you seem to resent? That’s what fascinates me. rief disguised as rage.
It's personal, I guess!

From a book of essays on Morrissey Fandom (2011), Chapter 17 has some thought-provoking ideas about possible fan experiences. Written by Stan Hawkins, it's called, ‘You Have Killed Me’ – Tropes of Hyperbole and Sentimentality in Morrissey’s Musical Expression.

Conclusion:
There can be little doubt that Morrissey performs with an extraordinary level of self-reflection. Rife with whimsical conjectures of sentimentality, ‘You Have Killed Me’ is indicative of a stylized, narcissistic performance, and Morrissey meticulously stylizes the character his fans will relate to. One might say his strategy of role-playing is a self-empowering motive, a distinguishing marker of his musical rhetoric. This idea alone sheds light on the points of identification that signify both the enigmatic and the familiar. From this it would seem that Morrissey’s personal struggles, on- and off-stage, are part of a deeply personal critique that is entrenched in ambivalence and self-obsession. Yet, this comes with a price.

Over the years Morrissey has maintained a problematic “masochistic relation” to his fans, frequently eroticizing men in terms of their “powerful working-class masculinity” (Bannister 2006: 152). Matthew Bannister has proposed that in flirting with his fans he intimates that he is “saving himself ” for “that impossible moment” (Bannister 2006: 154) when he might meet them person-to-person. Could this indeed be the fantasy that keeps the flame alive? If Morrissey’s masculinity and homoerotic sensibility, as Bannister insists, is linked to feminism and the emergence of new roles amongst males, his success hinges on him uncovering the anxieties associated with the normality of social class, race, ethnicity and sexuality.

This is why Morrissey is a fitting example of how pop subjectivities work. As we have seen, his subjectivity is based upon him playing the male hysteric: ‘Who am I that I come to be here? […] Yes I walk around somehow […] But you have killed me’. Indisputably, his Englishness, a distinctly Northern variant, represents something special – a universal sensibility – that gains its appeal as much abroad as locally. Instinctively, Morrissey has grasped that pop music shapes myths around ideas of individuation on a large scale. Surely it is this that turns him into an international symbol of wide-reaching appeal geographically and politically. Popularity on such a scale also owes much to the vulnerable display of the troubled self.

We know that many British pop acts are steeped in a tradition that is preoccupied with satirizing norms and assumptions linked to the politics of gender and sexuality. Indeed, Morrissey assumes a level of non-conformity in relationship to the dynamics of idealized masculinity, which underlie both his complexity and appeal; I am referring here to a subjectivity that works as a resilient buffer against the constraints of dominant roles in society. Personifying the cynic, the anti-hero, the underdog, Morrissey exhibits class and sexual hostility in songs that deal with the tedium of everyday life. Moreover, his gendered-ness, as I interpret it, is symbolic, for its meaningfulness has to do with a dissident masculinity. In this sense, possibly his most beguiling characteristic is a profound vanity that is mischievously deceptive. Thus, in the setting up of a trusting relationship with his fans, it is this quality that becomes located in a cult of the self, where the pleasure in entertaining others, and gaining their support, becomes the prime goal of self-gratification. Inevitably, Morrissey’s performance strategies are linked to the social and cultural circumstances of people’s lives in Britain during the 1980s and 1990s. This would explain why his songs are useful for evaluating the changes in society two decades later (at the time of writing this chapter, 2011).

Yet, we need to ask to what extent Morrissey relishes in the construction of his own passive, “feminine” emotional disposition, and what indeed is the psychopathology behind his vulnerable display? ‘You Have Killed Me’ is all about someone who “came with the key”. And if we are to believe that redemption comes through Morrissey’s sense of self-sacrifice, then this is surely an indictment of his very narcissism. Playing around with codes of ambiguity, Morrissey reinforces a narrative of self put-downs that run through a lifetime of songs. Uncannily, his songs substantiate endurance and resistance, as well as permitting a degree of self-mockery. In turn, his strategy underscores something subversive. While things are expressed simply, he knows they are poetically dark and ambivalent, and musically he makes this compelling. This happens through intricately sculpted tunes, crafted studio productions and poignantly expressed lyrics. Sensitively conveyed through a distinctive singing style his songs make us listen closely: in fact, so closely that we have to ponder long and hard. This is because his performances ghost his very presence, the effect of which spells out that special quality in pop music that creates empathy. ‘You Have Killed Me’ employs the past tense in the choruses, and the present tense in the verses; and all this unfolds in a way that engages our desire in his bid for sentimental retrospection.

From this it would seem that the pop song allows listeners to experience things without necessarily being forced to intervene or get involved in the actuality of the drama. As with opera arias, pop songs are staged events whereby social dramas arise from conflict situations; they can theatricalize the most horrendous incidents into an aesthetic experience. And, with the aid of the music video, it is not unusual to involve audiences within the storyline through the actualization of the musical process. After all, the pop artist’s prime goal is to make a text take on a life of its own, creating a host of possibilities. From this we might say ‘You Have Killed Me’ dispels the trivia around us by drawing on the merriment of satirical performance through memorable tunes, simple rhythmic accompaniment and quirky chords. Tenderly, Morrissey croons in a way he knows his fans wish to experience him time and again, and this is executed with immense panache and melodrama.

One effect of ‘You Have Killed Me’ is that it gives us a glimpse into his moments of human struggle and pain, as, almost religiously, he cries out, “I forgive you”. This line, if not parodic, is at least spiritually tied up with the song’s meaning in a myriad of ways. So, whether we choose to love him or hate him, or, indeed, accede to him forgiving us, the message seems uncompromising; for it is one of solidarity and sincerity, directed to the marginalized and afflicted. It is precisely this that makes Morrissey’s performances such powerful commentaries, which, in the end, can save us more than once.
 
There is no average Morrissey fan. Being global in appeal, the differences between types has to be thought of. Then there is his longevity, bringing in many ages.

I go back to the days of The Smiths. It was certainly easier then to identify an “average” fan, and although I was one, I never really identified as such, at the time. Probably because I was so close to them, geographically, and through shared acquaintances. It just was there.

All in the past. Another Country, as they say.
 
I have had conflicted feelings about Morrissey over the years, but despite everything, he is still my favorite singer and lyricist. I was obsessed with his music (and him as a person) during high school, which was a very difficult time for me. I feel that my obsession became unhealthy and that I was too emotionally invested in him. This coincided with when he was reported to have cancer, he was feuding with Harvest, he alleged that he was groped by a TSA agent, etc. This stuff really affected me, as I did not yet realize that he tends to be a very dramatic person, to the point where he may embellish things.

Once I was out of high school, I started to distance myself from his music, partially because of his antics and partially because I associated it with a low point in my life. He came to my city during the period I was off of him, and while I considered attending, I ended up not going. I didn't listen to his music or follow news about him for several years, but I've found myself coming back to it again lately. Now I regret not having gone to see him, as I don't know if he'll come to my city again (I hope he does). At the same time, I'm not sure I would travel given his cancellation record.

Now, I mainly listen to other music, but Morrissey/The Smiths is still very important to me. I try not to get too wrapped up in his drama (easier said than done...) and just observe from a distance, enjoying the music and hoping that he can find some sort of peace in his life. Because of the emotional nature of his lyrics, I would assume that emotional, sensitive people tend to be drawn to it. However, as a fan, I believe it's important to not get too invested in his day-to-day drama because it can drag you down.
This is going to sound ridiculous, but since I've gotten back into his music in the last few months, I've felt a lot of guilt for not having gone to see him when he was in my town back in 2017. I had the opportunity to go, but for whatever reason, I didn't. It makes me feel like I'm somehow "less of a fan" than others, and I sometimes find myself feeling envious of those who have seen him. I keep beating myself up about this decision, and I worry that I'll never see him live. I'm not really sure why I didn't go; I was still a teenager and probably not thinking clearly. I feel like my anxiety may have gotten in the way. Also, 2017 is when he began praising AMW, and I was an idealistic liberal back then who thought about things in black-and-white terms and felt like I maybe shouldn't be supporting him. Now, I'm still mostly a liberal (though somewhat less than before), but I don't really care about artists' politics anymore.

I would've had to attend the concert with my family since I basically had no friends, and I thought they wouldn't like it. He kept doing "Meat is Murder" during that tour, and I had no idea how I would go about telling my parents that he would inevitably show animal slaughter footage during the concert. The title of his album, "Low in High School," was also kind of a turn-off for me, because I genuinely did feel very "low in high school" and was trying to distance myself from that.

Anyway, I feel that it is entirely my fault that I've never seen him live, and I don't know how I'll cope if he dies or retires before I see him. Even recently, I could have technically traveled to a couple of his US dates, but again, I didn't do it. I'm really not sure where I'm going with this; I realize that I am way too obsessed with this guy. I've been trying to get over this for months, but it keeps popping up. I'm thinking that sometime I might have to risk the cancellation and travel, or I'll have to accept the uncertainty that he may or may not come to my town again. I'm not sure what to do. I'm probably not the average Morrissey fan, but I don't even think there is such a thing as the average fan. I just wish I could casually enjoy the music and not care so much.
 
This is going to sound ridiculous, but since I've gotten back into his music in the last few months, I've felt a lot of guilt for not having gone to see him when he was in my town back in 2017. I had the opportunity to go, but for whatever reason, I didn't. It makes me feel like I'm somehow "less of a fan" than others, and I sometimes find myself feeling envious of those who have seen him. I keep beating myself up about this decision, and I worry that I'll never see him live. I'm not really sure why I didn't go; I was still a teenager and probably not thinking clearly. I feel like my anxiety may have gotten in the way. Also, 2017 is when he began praising AMW, and I was an idealistic liberal back then who thought about things in black-and-white terms and felt like I maybe shouldn't be supporting him. Now, I'm still mostly a liberal (though somewhat less than before), but I don't really care about artists' politics anymore.

I would've had to attend the concert with my family since I basically had no friends, and I thought they wouldn't like it. He kept doing "Meat is Murder" during that tour, and I had no idea how I would go about telling my parents that he would inevitably show animal slaughter footage during the concert. The title of his album, "Low in High School," was also kind of a turn-off for me, because I genuinely did feel very "low in high school" and was trying to distance myself from that.

Anyway, I feel that it is entirely my fault that I've never seen him live, and I don't know how I'll cope if he dies or retires before I see him. Even recently, I could have technically traveled to a couple of his US dates, but again, I didn't do it. I'm really not sure where I'm going with this; I realize that I am way too obsessed with this guy. I've been trying to get over this for months, but it keeps popping up. I'm thinking that sometime I might have to risk the cancellation and travel, or I'll have to accept the uncertainty that he may or may not come to my town again. I'm not sure what to do. I'm probably not the average Morrissey fan, but I don't even think there is such a thing as the average fan. I just wish I could casually enjoy the music and not care so much.

Forgive yourself. I've seen him on many tours and 2017 was my least favorite. The show I went to had one of the worst setlists that heavily featured what I consider to be one of his weaker albums, Low in High School. After that, I thought I was done seeing him live again. As it turns out I saw him in 2018, and it was a much better experience.
 
Forgive yourself. I've seen him on many tours and 2017 was my least favorite. The show I went to had one of the worst setlists that heavily featured what I consider to be one of his weaker albums, Low in High School. After that, I thought I was done seeing him live again. As it turns out I saw him in 2018, and it was a much better experience.
Thank you for reading my nonsense :sweatsmile:. Basically, I'd like to see him just once, and I think that would be enough for me. The problem is that I don't live somewhere like LA or NYC where people come on every tour. It's now been 7 years since he came here, so I'm hoping he'll come back sometime not too far in the future. It just makes me nervous since he's getting older, but it's not like he's 80 or something, so I think there's still a chance. The easy answer would be to travel or something, but I'd have to carefully consider that since I'm not too great with spontaneity, such as if I got to a hotel only to find out he canceled the day of. We'll see.
 
Thank you for reading my nonsense :sweatsmile:. Basically, I'd like to see him just once, and I think that would be enough for me. The problem is that I don't live somewhere like LA or NYC where people come on every tour. It's now been 7 years since he came here, so I'm hoping he'll come back sometime not too far in the future. It just makes me nervous since he's getting older, but it's not like he's 80 or something, so I think there's still a chance. The easy answer would be to travel or something, but I'd have to carefully consider that since I'm not too great with spontaneity, such as if I got to a hotel only to find out he canceled the day of. We'll see.
It took me nearly a decade of trying, but I finally got to see Moz this year when he toured in my city, and I’m so glad I did. I wouldn’t travel to some random out-of-the-way city just to see him, but I think it would be worth traveling for a show in LA, NYC, or Vegas — places where there are plenty of other things to do and see, and events to enjoy in case he cancels. Make it so that the concert is just a part of the trip, not the only thing you’re there for.
 
It took me nearly a decade of trying, but I finally got to see Moz this year when he toured in my city, and I’m so glad I did. I wouldn’t travel to some random out-of-the-way city just to see him, but I think it would be worth traveling for a show in LA, NYC, or Vegas — places where there are plenty of other things to do and see, and events to enjoy in case he cancels. Make it so that the concert is just a part of the trip, not the only thing you’re there for.
That makes sense. I considered going when he was here but for whatever reason didn't...so I just hope he returns. I think I was too anxious or something back then. Of course, now I'm regretting it, but there's nothing I can do about that now.
 
That makes sense. I considered going when he was here but for whatever reason didn't...so I just hope he returns. I think I was too anxious or something back then. Of course, now I'm regretting it, but there's nothing I can do about that now.
I’m sure he will, assuming you’re in the U.S. He seems to tour here often. Please wait, don’t lose faith 🙂
 
I’m sure he will, assuming you’re in the U.S. He seems to tour here often. Please wait, don’t lose faith 🙂
Yes, I’m in the US. Most of his touring seems like it’s in the US and UK at this point, and with the way he’s been badmouthing the UK lately, maybe that’ll mean even more concerts for us Americans lol.
 
Yes, I’m in the US. Most of his touring seems like it’s in the US and UK at this point, and with the way he’s been badmouthing the UK lately, maybe that’ll mean even more concerts for us Americans lol.
LOL :ROFLMAO: Laughing Out Loud. Love it.
 
This is going to sound ridiculous, but since I've gotten back into his music in the last few months, I've felt a lot of guilt for not having gone to see him when he was in my town back in 2017. I had the opportunity to go, but for whatever reason, I didn't. It makes me feel like I'm somehow "less of a fan" than others, and I sometimes find myself feeling envious of those who have seen him. I keep beating myself up about this decision, and I worry that I'll never see him live. I'm not really sure why I didn't go; I was still a teenager and probably not thinking clearly. I feel like my anxiety may have gotten in the way. Also, 2017 is when he began praising AMW, and I was an idealistic liberal back then who thought about things in black-and-white terms and felt like I maybe shouldn't be supporting him. Now, I'm still mostly a liberal (though somewhat less than before), but I don't really care about artists' politics anymore.

I would've had to attend the concert with my family since I basically had no friends, and I thought they wouldn't like it. He kept doing "Meat is Murder" during that tour, and I had no idea how I would go about telling my parents that he would inevitably show animal slaughter footage during the concert. The title of his album, "Low in High School," was also kind of a turn-off for me, because I genuinely did feel very "low in high school" and was trying to distance myself from that.

Anyway, I feel that it is entirely my fault that I've never seen him live, and I don't know how I'll cope if he dies or retires before I see him. Even recently, I could have technically traveled to a couple of his US dates, but again, I didn't do it. I'm really not sure where I'm going with this; I realize that I am way too obsessed with this guy. I've been trying to get over this for months, but it keeps popping up. I'm thinking that sometime I might have to risk the cancellation and travel, or I'll have to accept the uncertainty that he may or may not come to my town again. I'm not sure what to do. I'm probably not the average Morrissey fan, but I don't even think there is such a thing as the average fan. I just wish I could casually enjoy the music and not care so much.
Don’t beat yourself up about this. And be proud of your passion, and stop apologizing for who you are, but don’t let the passion consume you completely (a tough balancing act, I know). You had your reasons for not going in the past, and that’s fine, but when the circumstances are right you will know and the opportunity will no doubt present itself. Morrissey himself has said that he wants to die on stage, so he’ll keep getting up on that stage for many years to come.
 
was just checking the tour wiki,people think he has toured just about non-stop for 40 years but there is five years where he never toured at all,98,01,03,05 and 10,you wonder what he did with all that time off as he doesnt really do anything else apart from making music.
 
Don’t beat yourself up about this. And be proud of your passion, and stop apologizing for who you are, but don’t let the passion consume you completely (a tough balancing act, I know). You had your reasons for not going in the past, and that’s fine, but when the circumstances are right you will know and the opportunity will no doubt present itself. Morrissey himself has said that he wants to die on stage, so he’ll keep getting up on that stage for many years to come.
Thank you, Gregor. He certainly doesn’t seem like the type to retire.
 
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