Gone are the Smith’s days of Mozza as a wan youth. Evidently, he’s given his recent run in with cancer a hearty fuck off, because at 57 Morrissey’s a strapping bloke with charisma to spare. With key chains swinging from his waist and shirt unbuttoned to reveal a hairy, barrel chest, it turns out that Morrissey’s grown up to be louche and sexy, while still wielding a mic lead with more flair than a rhythmic gymnast.
Before kickoff fans were treated to a 30-minute peek into what makes Moz tick, with a video featuring everything from a spot of punk with the Pistols and New York Dolls to ill-fated coupling with Sonny and Cher and Ike and Tina. Maybe having a dig at himself, the imagery swanned from high camp to melancholy; histrionics to equally beautiful men and women.
With voice in fine fettle, Morrissey warbled and the crowd swooned. Unlike previous slightly grumpy Oz appearances, Moz was charming – graciously accepting letters from the crowd, thanking us for having him back and touching the outstretched hands of the doting throng.
Not to say that the audience wasn’t slapped hard – the graphic video footage of police brutality accompanying Ganglord and the slaughter-house cruelty providing the backdrop to Meat is Murder were nothing short of traumatising. PTSD aside, it was admirable – when Mozza makes a point, he doesn’t pull any punches.
Living up to his mercurial rep, Morrissey was arch and wry, “Do you feel mildly entertained?” he asked. “What the hell by? That’s not why you’re here.” And he was a wee bit bitchy: following You’re The One For Me Fatty he answered a question on no one’s lips, proclaiming, “Yes, that song was about you – nasty huh?” Indeed, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Whether he’s admiring UKIP twat Nigel Farage or referring to the Chinese as a subspecies, Morrissey isn’t above putting his foot in it, but this time there were no missteps.
Words by Meg Crawford
Image by Ian Laidlaw
Highlight: The tremolo chug of How Soon Is Now.
Lowlight: The strobe lights – God help any epileptics.
Crowd favourite: Everyday Is Like Sunday – we were united and elevated.
