Mr Smith: All Mouth And Trousers? - i-D Magazine (October, 1987)

Scans of print edition from:
i-D Magazine (October, 1987) - illnessasart.com

Transcript

MR SMITH: ALL MOUTH AND TROUSERS?

Oh, how they love to hate Steven Patrick Morrissey. Ever since the Smiths hit paydirt in 1983, the critics have taken Morrissey to task for being a miserable 'celibatarian aesthete', wallowing in his own shambolic melancholy. But much as the critics despised this supposedly morose creature, Morrissey became a popular spokesman for those disillusioned with the rampant permissiveness of modern pop. The Smiths themselves have made some of the finest rock music of the Eighties, sixteen singles and six LPs worth of Manchester tenement operas - everything from maudlin ballads and relentless modern thrash to psychedelic music-hall and sparse, simple pop. Their new LP Strangeways, Here We Come is released this month. Of course the Smiths' success has always relied on the abrasive collaboration between Morrissey and Johnny Marr. In the last five years they've been elevated to the ranks of the great double-acts: Jagger and Richard, Laurel and Hardy, Grand Marnier and Lucozade, Morrissey and Marr - Morrissey playing the librarian, Marr the rock 'n' roll groupie. That partnership was recently severed. Johnny Marr officially left the group at the end of July, due to the legendary 'musical differences'. Both Morrissey and Marr say the split was amicable, but this seems unlikely: Marr apparently formed his own band in October 1986, and they were all set to play a showcase gig at the Marquee until Morrissey talked him into returning. Sources close to the group say Marr's already recorded his debut LP, well on his way to becoming the next Eddie Van Halen. There are some strange stories about Morrissey and his bedroom B-movie of a life: apparently he shares the same part-time bodyguard (called Jim) as the Irish Prime Minister; some say that he isn't as celibate as he makes out, and that he has a rather well-known 'friend'; others say that Morrissey has a mother fixation. This might be the case but he certainly hasn't much time for his father: When the Smiths became more than local heroes in 1984 Morrissey's dad (a drunken ne'er-do-well according to friends of the family) would invade the stage at their concerts along with the overzealous fans; Morrissey had to ask him to stay at home. Other stories will probably soon come to light seeing as at least five people closely associated with the band are now trying to sell their stories. Whether or not the Smiths will be able to withstand the loss of Marr is doubtful; but regardless, Morrissey remains one of the country's best lyricists. He may have the unfortunate manner of a dotty old aunt, and he may be full of camp conceits, but Morrissey has the wit and wisdom of a true British vaudevillian. Like Pete Shelley in his Buzzcock days, Mozzer has the sense to inject a large dose of irony into much of what he writes. Oddly enough, he refuses to acknowledge Prince, yet he would kill to be able to write something as remarkable as 'If I Was Your Girlfriend'. His equals? Well, the only other media personality who professes to practice and enjoy the same sexual habits as Morrissey (total abstinence) is Kenneth Williams.

In general, do you think that British music is better than any other kind?

Yes, it certainly has been. I'm not really quite sure about now, but the history of British music is better than anyone else's history. In the Seventies America hardly existed in musical terms - it was a total anathema. In the Sixties it was passable, but that was mainly due to Elvis Presley. There must be a reason why it's still important for international recording artists to be successful in Britain; and it's taste really - they know that British people have more taste...

What records have you bought in the last year?

Not many, but there have been some - the Primitives, the Christians, A-ha [this is pronounced Ah-haaaaaaaaaaaaa]... mainly mainstream pop. Nothing on import or anything like that. I'm never impressed by modern lyricists, I know that sounds unbelievable, but it's true.

You don't listen to people on Rough Trade?

Good heavens no! Nothing has touched me at all.

What do you think of Prince? He's a lot sexier than you...

He's clinical and impersonal... but sexy? I don't know, I don't think so... On a lyrical level I don't find him desperately interesting. His beat isn't very good either. But I don't dislike him, I find him quite funny and arrogant and confrontational. At the end of the day though, he's s-l-i-g-h-t-l-y overrated.

Many people say the same thing about the Smiths...

I know, but it isn't true!

There was a story in a music paper last year which appeared to accuse you of racism. You were very upset about it at the time, but in hindsight you just seemed to be saying you weren't particularly interested in dance music. No big deal really...

I don't think my opinions were particularly wayward. After that a lot of people rang me up and wrote to me, saying, 'At last someone is saying this - we're tired of all this stuff...' But the journalist made me sound demonstrative, and it's certainly not a crusade by any means. But I've never completely embraced dance music. I never ever went to clubs, I never danced, or anything like that. I went to concerts, I went to see groups in gig situations. But I do possess records by people who just happen to be black. It has happened!

How have your attitudes changed towards London? You live in Chelsea now...

Initially I had those very typical views about the South, and I really viewed London as enemy territory. But once I'd stayed here for a long period of time all those things dispelled. I still have a healthy obsession with Manchester, but it's difficult to feel part of the daily life because I'm never there.

Where do you go, when you go out?

I never go out publicly. I never go to clubs or things like that. I hover around Sloane Square occasionally and I go shopping, but that's about it. I like the Kings Road because it has a lovely catwalk feel. I don't travel very far and wide, and I certainly don't hike to any trendy spots. But I do like watching people in the Kings Road, all the ones who have perfect symmetry... the ones whose clothes all fit perfectly. It makes me quite envious... all those people who look so neat and so clean, they inspire me. I especially like footwear. Only occasionally do you see people who are so abstract that they look absurd.

I don't suppose you go on public transport now...

I go on trains every now and again, because I have to, but I haven't been on a bus for four years. I don't miss it.

How does Morrissey relax? Is there something he does immediately when he gets home?

[A raised eyebrow and a knowing smile here...] Well, TV certainly helps me relax; not mentally, I mean I don't watch Terry and June, but it takes the edge off me. I do have a vast collection of video tapes though. Anything pre-1970, generally Fifties and Sixties English films. I like Carry On films, early British comedy, things like Hobson's Choice, Far from the Madding Crowd, The Family Way... The Leather Boys...

What sums up Britain for you?

I quite like the rather dark side of Britain. Rain and fog and the countryside, the theatre district of London. I don't like anything particularly advanced. Having a television and video is completely at odds with these feelings, but you can't have an old fashioned video, now can you?

But you're constantly living in the past.

Well, it's cheaper, it was much cheaper in those days! I think I do to a certain degree, but no, it's really only a matter of taste. I just find that things buried in the past are so much more interesting than anything around today. I hate things like McDonald's - I prefer the world of tea rooms and mysterious little chip shops to the world of fast food. Unfortunately it's difficult to find many interesting old tea rooms in London, but I have found the odd place where I can sit without feeling intimidated.

What do you do with your money? You obviously don't spend it . . .

I put it in the bank - I'm with the Halifax. I'm a desperately humble person - I don't have a yacht you know. I do have a car - a 1961 Consul - but I can't drive it. It's waiting in the garage for the magical day when I learn to drive . . . which of course will never happen because I can't grapple with the Highway Code.

I don't suppose you travel much when you don't have to...

No, I don't really go on holidays. I don't like going to other countries to be honest with you... I do it very rarely.

Have you ever had a tan?

Yes! Yes I have had a tan actually. I went to Los Angeles recently and got one there, but it didn't make it back to Britain. It got stopped by customs - you're not actually allowed to come through customs with a tan.

The Smiths are looked upon by some critics as the quintessential British group, whereas others think the whole thing is contrived in the way that the Who's early singles were contrived to give this impression of Swinging Mod London.

I like the idea of the Smiths being thought of as an entirely British group, but it's quite a natural thing. It wasn't an added commodity, never has been. Also, that statement tends to imply that you won't be successful anywhere else in the world, which in our case isn't far from the truth. I do like the idea, though, of being a uniquely British phenomenon. We are undeniably British.

Have your attitudes towards sex changed at all? Have you lightened up? You were very uptight about it at one point...

Well, I've never really had any attitudes towards sex. It's never been my strong point... I've not really had much time to cultivate any attitudes. No, it's always been somewhat of a foregone conclusion. I never feel that I give completely satisfactory answers to journalists, which is why they're still asking me, but I'm still mystified by why they want to know. I never wanted to start a new movement, I never wanted to wave a banner for celibate people. I never wanted to go to the House of Commons and lobby, for instance. It's accidental that it actually came out in the first place [the celibate stance], and now it's become a tatty banner. I've been consistently probed on it, and the statement I make is that I've got nothing to do with it. To be honest with you I don't think about it [sex] that often, so I don't see why I should become a spokesman for people who don't do it that often!

How many things have you done which you're ashamed of?

None... nothing at all. I say that quite regretfully, because I suppose it's a measure of actually living a semi-exciting life that you've done things that will seriously make you cringe. But not me. Everything I've ever done has been totally legitimate.

When was the last time you felt real passionate love?

Practically never. No, I've never been in that situation.

Really?! Have you never wanted to? Your lyrics imply that you have.

Yes, I have. But in reality it never happens. In order to think, isolation is a necessary evil. I have to be alone. I can't really stand people's company for too long. It's terrible - but I can't really share. Occasionally I feel the need for some physical commitment - which never, I might add, ever happens. Everything's so entangled now that I often wonder if it will ever happen. I don't think it will to be honest with you. I mean, not many people reach 28 in my state.

When did you lose your virginity?

I've never been asked this. Actually it was in my early teens, twelve or thirteen. But it was an isolated incident, an accident. After that it was downhill. I've got no pleasant memories from it whatsoever.

Have you ever wished for a more stable, conventional life?

Yes I have, but obviously as you can gather there are several great obstacles that I can't really seem to get past. I can't seem to advance beyond friendship with most people. And for the most part I don't even manage that. I only have one or two friends, whom I've known for ten years. Generally I don't make friends with people - it's not something I plot, it's not something I insist upon... it just naturally happens.

You must be extremely worried now that Johnny Marr has decided to leave the group? Marred for life?

To a certain extent I'm upset and it's quite harrowing, but it's really just something I have to live with. I'm certainly not going to lie down and die, not by any means. Sorry. Most of what I ever felt about the Smiths came from within me anyway, and it can't really be touched by, shall we say, any comings and goings. It was brewing for a long time, and although many people didn't realise it, I certainly did. It was less of a blow really... not terribly surprising...

But he's half of the creative team of the band!

I know, and it's distressing, but it's not the Smiths' funeral by any means.

You must have thought about going solo, yes?

It's something I'm mulling over. I'm certainly aware of people wanting to bury me... now's the chance! No, I have a lot to do and a lot to fight against. But going solo is something I'm thinking about.

When people go solo, you expect them to either make a disco record or a religious one . . .

I expect I shall make a combination of the two.

You could make a Freddie Mercury record.

If only I could. I don't think I'm quite that talented... What I'd like to make is a very quiet record, with perhaps just guitars, voice and piano - a very gentle record, very thoughtful. But the spirit within me to make extremely brief, loud, raucous songs is just s-l-i-g-h-t-l-y stronger.

You've never learnt music, have you?

I've never learnt music because I've always wanted to retain a fan's response to music. It's a naivety I still have. I've never wanted to become technical about music... But lyrics I write all the time. I write all day long - I scribble things down in hundreds of notebooks and I have large boxes full of scraps of paper which I use.

So you don't think there will be any reconciliation with Johnny?

Judging from what he's said in the press since he left, no. I would have been quite happy for it to continue, but... As far as I can tell, it seems highly unlikely. It's onward, onward, onward...

You've said you don't like playing live. You seem exceedingly awkward on stage . . .

I don't like the travelling and the process you have to go through. I don't like being pulled, push and shoved about... I find that very unsettling. In general I like being on stage, but everything leading up to that hour and a half is very draining. When I sing on stage I almost slip into some totally separate mode of thinking - not because I'm a different person, but almost as if I become the real me. Many people say that when they're on stage they turn into some kind of different person... a kind of act. But that's not the same with me. I think I turn into the real Morrissey on stage, the real me, the real person... and when I come off I actually find acting quite useful... - offstage. Being on stage is like being in a blizzard, like being in some kind of strange tunnel.

That's entertainment!

I don't know whether entertainment comes into it. When you say things like entertainment I think of things like Saturday Night at the London Palladium... I think it's something more than that. I wouldn't mention the word mission because it sounds a l-i-t-t-l-e b-i-t t-o-o m-u-c-h, but it's definitely something more than entertainment. Seeing groups live really gives the audience great release, and Smiths' affairs tend to be quite expressive gatherings, giving people the chance to step out of their morbid lifestyles.

The typical Smiths fan is always assumed to be a withering adolescent trapped in his bedroom writing angst-ridden poetry ('Writing frightening verse to a bucktoothed girl in Luxembourg'), but your concerts seem to be populated by gangs of beery lads.

Well yes, they're very healthy people. They're not outpatients... they can carry themselves quite well physically! This image of a typical Smiths fanatic being a creased and semi-crippled youth is s-l-i-g-h-t-l-y over-stretched... it's not really true at all. Smiths concerts are really quite violent things - we even have people breaking their legs and backs. If the audience was a collection of withering prunes those things wouldn't happen. They're overtly expressive happenings. I'm very happy with that... I don't want people to sit back, cross their legs and nod off. When I saw David Bowie in 1972 and 1973 there was none of the hysteria that you get these days, even though Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane were very big. People didn't go mad, which is something I find very hard to comprehend. You'd think that people like Bowie and Bryan Ferry were hellishly worshipped, but I don't remember any of that. I remember Roxy Music concerts where people sat on the floor. But these days that demonstration of mad affection happens to just about everybody. Concerts are wilder, stronger, more desperate that they've ever been before. In those days any hysteria was organised hysteria... madness happens as a matter of course these days. Though I must say that the only reason anyone goes to see David Bowie these days is so they can die saying that they saw 'David Bowie - the legend', not because they like his latest records.

Tell me about the new LP, Strangeways Here We Come. It's got some great moments, but it's not exactly a radical departure, is it?

Ha! Ha! Very politely said. You're right, it isn't a radical departure - it's better, but it isn't a radical departure. It's not dramatically enlightening...

Do you take much notice of criticism aimed at you and the band?

When it's silly and anti-miserabilist, then it's very boring. But when it comes from intelligent people, I worry... I can understand that the Smiths' world doesn't appeal to everybody - I can see that quite clearly, I'm not that narrow minded. But I've never read anything which has made me want to change.

Most of the people who don't like you - they dislike you because they think it's all one big act - a coy role for yourself. I must admit I'm sceptical.

I know. I can't really blame you, but there's very little I can actually do about it, apart from visiting everybody individually in their homes and spending a weekend with them. I can't think of any remedy.

You must be worried about becoming a cliché . . .

Not really, because even though I feel that I'm not about to go off on any new dramatic tangents, I'm always going to be me, however sad that may be. I don't think I could ever deliberately change, even for fear of becoming quite repetitious. And if I don't change, and it all goes downhill, then so be it. I couldn't be a tailormade pop star, not really, not at all.

You must keep yourself to yourself...

I have to be alone. I still only have two real friends, and they're both people I've known since I was seventeen. Being in the Smiths and the whole experience has practically changed nothing. I genuinely don't mix. I live a very isolated life. I talk to journalists and I appear in magazines and I make the odd record, but otherwise I live a very unspectacular lifestyle. It's a very peculiar thing to juggle with. I'm an intensely private person, but yet it doesn't get seen that way in interviews because I speak so often and so personally. I think I should back off, disappear and become some kind of stagehand.

What else could you do?

Nothing. I'm entirely talentless . . . it was all a great big accident - I just came out of the wrong lift.

And if it all came to an end tomorrow?

I think I'd slide away to some [Devonshire] village, somewhere quite dark and green and quiet. The only burning ambition I have left is to write plays . . . but that won't happen for a while. I will do it, but at the moment this thing is wrapped around me like a shroud.

Thank you very much - that's the end.

In more ways than one...

i-D, October 1987