Cuttings

STOCKHOLM MONSTERS: National Pastime  ( Factory ) Dark, doomy, depressing ... just a few of the qualities the Stockholm Monsters do not possess, further emphasising just how inaccurate most peoples’ idea of Factory Records has become. The Stockholm Monsters always put me in mind of The Move before they discovered heavy metal, all regency horns and rushing drums. The indulgences that the sales of ‘Blue Monday’ allowed Factory to make in tolerating their less successful acts are looking to have been worthwhile.

SECTION 25: Looking From A Hilltop  ( Factory 12" ) Romancing the drone? Hey, only kidding! Section 25, who could once lay claim to being the dreariest group on the planet, have lifted their noses from the stone long enough to sniff the air and discover a joy in life. They've converted it into contagious chatterfunk blessed with a forlornly pretty melody - a mark usefully retained from their previous experience - and a new girl vocalist, whose vague dreamy voice seems chosen so as not to detract from the whole.

A CERTAIN RATIO Manchester Hacienda I BLINK twice, but still the fact that this is ACR doesn't sink in. Their 'development' from the graveyard to the dancefloor is nearly over. After the inspired, innovative whirlpools of ‘Flight/'Blown Away', the glistening slinky beat of ‘Sextet’ and the “Work-that-body-sugar" Hunk-Funk of ‘Guess Who’, Ratio are now dipping their toes more surely into the smooth, rippling pools of pure technique, classy inanity and a passably pleasant groove, so shallow they could play it in their sleep. ‘Multi-instrumentalists’ to a man (huh !), they run through a series of anonymous ‘Mauritian cruise music’ instrumentals full of breezy whistles, busy bass-runs, tinkering Latin touches and jazzy interludes, all built around the base of Donald Johnson's easy beat, a Herb Albert trumpet and a lazy Al Jarreau 'feel' (sic). New vocalgirl, Carol McKenzie, has to be content with a song of " Dancin‘/Romancin '"s until, fin...

A CERTAIN RATIO: I Need Someone Tonite  ( Factory )  Clumsy, gritty pop/funk that tries to push its obvious American influences (Cameo?) into some kind of order and ends up with an identity problem. From Donald Johnson’s forced yelp about a minute into the song to the upfront bass that irritates rather than moves, 'I Need Someone Tonite' is neither desperate or dirty enough to justify its intentions. Rather it's a grab exercise in funk meddling which, when placed next to the exuberant d rive of say The Weather Girls, is shown up for its complete lack of character. On the flip side is a word perfect rendition of Stevie Wonder's ‘Don’t You Worry Bout A Thing’, which, like the JB All Stars, begs the question why?

SIMON TOPPING: Prospect Park  ( Factory Benelux ) Good old Factory Benditoys present Mr Khaki Shorts 1982: Simon “A Concrete Patio" Topping in his solo debut, and most odd it is too. A terribly authentic slab of Latin piano and what one presumes is Si's own trumpet on the A-side - named after part of Exeter, seemingly - while the B-side has Topping announcing in a doomy way that he loves the conga. The conga better watch out.

THE SMITHS’ANTI-APARTHEID BENEFIT LONDON BRIXTON ACADEMY IN A crammed Academy, heaving with sweaty adoration, the theoretical trappings of a Brixton Anti-Apartheid benefit are swallowed whole by The Smiths’ avowedly Anglo-Saxon stock folk rituals. But the most cogent point surviving this near-definitive cultural clash is that The Smiths probably made more money for the A-A, in a sole swoop, than any mythical amount dreamed up by liberal brows furrowed with perpetual heart-bleeding concern. Despite the almost excessive claustrophobia of these Smiths’ Events, Morrissey and his flock’s concerns are still sufficiently broad and communicative for this music to deserve a freshly relevant “folk” tag. The Smiths' celebratory angst might seem to ignore the existence of any life outside white England but from such insularity comes a heightened bond of shared feeling. Even to the outsider, the Academy’s massed refrain of line after line of “ England is mine and it owes me a living " type...

THE SMITHS: Sheila Take A Bow ( Rough Trade ) An adequate, rather than particularly inspired, Smiths single still shreds the rest of the week's pop dross with Morrissey, in a 2:40 burst, urging Sheila to " boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear ". Glints of Smiths sparkle shine most clearly through the " Sheila take a, Sheila take a bow " chorus while the rest of the song cruises through typical ponderings about living alone, melancholia, homework and sad songs. With Candy Darling on the cover, this is, as always, the sleeve of the week. On the B-side's 'Is It Really So Strange?', Morrissey's extraordinary interest in ludicrous misfortune swells with crazed absurdity as he careers between the North and the South, sighing all the while that "oh yes you can kick me, and you can punch me and you can break my face". Inevitably, he can't "help the way I feel" and so he lapses into confusion before killing a horse, mur...

The Smiths “Ask” (Rough Trade) This time “it’s the bomb that’ll bring us together" according to that steaming great woman’s blouse Morrissey. ( That's v. sexist - a woman’s blouse .) I really never feel miserable enough to have to listen to a Smiths record. Perhaps I don’t “think” enough or something. We’ve all spent days on end locked up in our bedrooms trying desperately to convince our parents that we’re depressed and we’ve all gone through stages of being enamoured by James Dean or Oscar Wilde or someone or other, so what’s so flippin' marvellous about Morrissey who makes a living out of doing the same, I “ask” you?

THE SMITHS: Girlfriend In A Coma ( Rough Trade ) Who else but the Smiths could make a bouncy little pop gem like this, but of such depressing subject matter. His girlfriend is hovering between life and death but Morrissey's catchy vocals seem non-committed about the whole thing, while the overall feel evokes shades of the Beach Boys and other early '60s teen vocal groups. This grows with each listen and as someone who normally finds the Smiths about as inspiring as watching EastEnders , I found it surprisingly refreshing. Easily the pop single of the week.

THE SMITHS: Shoplifters Of The World Unite ( Rough Trade ) This record is dedicated to Ruth Polsky, the New York booking agent who was killed by a taxi that drove up onto the kerb where she was standing. The bizarre nature of her death prompted some supressed titters. This record's cover model is Elvis Presley. Thin Elvis. If you squint, hold the sleeve a few feet away, it looks like Morrissey. (Giggle.) This record might be the stuff of tragi comedy, but the funereal tone, with cumbersome guitars and world weary singing, kills any irony that may be hidden in the lyrics. Morrissey is a master at cry now, giggle later lyrics, but the humour of the A-side is elusive. You can't supress a titter that isn't there. It is there on the B-side with the self styled parody 'Half A Person’. If Stephen isn't laughing at his own funeral (ie life) then it's someone who remarkably resembles him. It is dead funny: " If you have five seconds to spare, then I'll tell you ...

THE SMITHS: Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me ( Rough Trade )  This must be the lowest placing a Smiths single has ever had in the NME. If I could get it on the next page I probably would. Taken from their worst LP, 'Last Night' treads no new ground whatsoever. A melodramatic, almost operatic intro slides into an average Morrissey/Marr number that is 2½ minutes long and a ton too light. The Queen is clearly dead here and Johnny Marr’s not looking too bright either.

THE SMITHS: I Started Something I Couldn't Finish ( Rough Trade )  Typical me, typical me, typical me" moans Morrissey, lamenting that lost jigsaw piece. This is a fairly pointless bit of posthumous whingeing with some horrible guitar playing from Johnny Marr; still determined to drag the Smiths kicking and screaming into the 1970's. If he carries on at this rate he'll end up in The Pretenders! This is going out not with a Bing but with a hamper; Morrissey ought to get himself a string section and stop swanning about pretending to be Melvyn Bragg.

MORRISSEY! SEASIDE B-SIDES “I WILL live my life/As I will undoubtedly die/. . . alone" . What's Morrissey been doing all this time? Well, Tuesday sees his ‘Suedehead’ follow-up, ‘Everyday Is Like Sunday’, launched upon innocent seasiders everywhere. And there are three spanking “new and unavailable elsewhere” Mozz/Stephen Street compositions on the B-Side of the 12"er: ‘Sister I’m A Poet’, ‘Will Not Marry’ and ‘Disappointed’ (‘Disappointed’ only on the 7"). Derek B has described Morrissey as a “down brother” and we can safely say he’s living up to that reputation here. All three songs are shorter on humour than, say, ‘Hairdresser On Fire’ but they’re naturally well crafted and seductively executed. ‘Sister I’m A Poet’ is an appropriate B-side for his 'Everyday’s Like A Sunday’ Betjeman 'Slough'-steal, but both it and ‘Disappointed’ sound more like The Smiths than Viva Hate’ ’88 Morrissey. ‘Sister’, which approaches some of Morrissey/Marr’s best songs, rem...

MONARCHY IN THE UK THE SMITHS ‘The Queen Is Dead* (Rough Trade ROUGH 96) ***** THE ALBUM of the week comes half-pretty in pink, yet eloquently monosyllabic in monochromatic grey/green. The Smiths have always wrapped themselves well. Evocative, assured and gleefully funny. And that’s only the still of your four Smiths standing, like Ramones who can read, outside the Salford Lads Club on the comer of Coronation Street (a joke within a joke here). The album of the week introduces itself with half a snatch from Cicely Courtneidge’s unforgettable (if you’ve ever heard of it, you can’t forget it) 'Take Me Back To Blighty’, and then sweeps this backwards glance aside with a flurry of exuberant drumming and a looming loop of guitar. The pause is stretched beyond the limit. Distorted vocals drop a hint, and half the western world wonders. Is it Susan And Her Banshees? Is it Altered Images? Oh grow up, take a look at the top of the page and giggle uncontrollably as the monarchy fumbles. Morr...

  The Smiths. Mick Middles £5.95 Ominbus Press. In this book, Middles (hurst) states that when approaching The Smiths pertaining writing it, he came up against a wall of silence. So, this is probably an unauthorised version and that's problem number one. Problem number two is that Middles is a Mancunian and perhaps he's too close to the ’heart’ of it all, it's like the rise of the lads-next-door, although not all his remarks are complimentary of course. So would an outsiders view solve the problem? I doubt it, but there has to be a middle ground somewhere. In his introduction, Middles calls the book a "document" and goes on to state that any "trivia" on The Smiths would make the music inrelevant. He cites the "What Difference Does It Make?" different cover as "trivia", even though the original cover made the single a rare item. This is'nt trivia, it’s old information, as is the giving away of Johnny Marr’s real name of which Middl...

THERE'S A BIGNOSE WHO KNOWS • Lights! Camera! Charles Hawtrey! Action! Are you the kind of busy kid who hasn’t time to get his library ticket renewed? Don’t worry. Get educated in the perverse, as NME goes round MORRISSEY’S house, raids his bookshelves, peeks in his diary, borrows loads of videos and doesn’t give them back in order to present a triv-crammed jamboree of Moz ephemera. Yes, 100 things you always wanted to know about Moz but didn’t dare to “ask” (Geddit?) The men who started something they couldn’t finish: STUART MACONIE, DAVID QUANTICK, LEN BROWN “If you must write prose and poems, then the words you use should be your own, don't plagiarise or take on board / 'Cos there's always someone, somewhere with a big nose who knows." - The Smiths, ‘Cemetry Gates’ But do we know very well how The Smiths got their name? Possibly (see below). One of the abiding joys about being a Smith-head was always the hours of fun to be had in public libraries and...

Wally Rangers Forget about Jesse Jackson, Michael Dukakis and George Bush! The important Convention this season was The Smiths' one in Manchester last week. SARAH CHAMPION joined the frond-festooned faithful as they made their strange way round the holy places. Canonisation (Nikonisation?) by KEVIN CUMMINS. At 10am Morrissey turns up outside the Smiths Convention, pop-star-like in his white GTI. An unexpected guest, perhaps? Certainly not. He drops off two friends, takes one look and drives hurriedly away again. Is he shy? Is he frightened? Is he worried about being raped by the adoring masses? No, the truth is, he is probably embarrassed by the extreme to which his followers have taken matters. Manchester University’s Student Union building is a scene of confusion. Red and yellow gladioli all over the place... on the stairs, on tables and hanging out back pockets. On the walls are hand-made posters quoting lyrics. Already the disc cameras are flashing as a queue of dis...

SINGLE YOUR LIFE WRITE SAID FRED EDITED BY THE INFO-MOUS FRED DELLAR A RECENT post provided a note from one Neil from Birmingham, who wrote: “In a recent Thrills section, there was a piece in which it was claimed NME had made Moz’s 45s Single Of The Week on ten occasions. Can you list these singles, please?” The answer is that Morrissey has never quite achieved ten such desirable plaudits, even with his Smiths output chucked in. In all probability, the Thrills piece was penned by our Bob Holness expert. Even so, the task of trawling through Steven Patrick’s tally of NME singles reviews seemed a fascinating one. So, after hours in the vaults, the Write Said Fred team (just me, actually) came up with the COMPLETE MORRISSEY SINGLES REVIEW FILE! - now offered for your delight and dissection. In particular, note Swells’ review of ‘Everyday Is Like Sunday’ and marvel at the man’s Nostradamus-like powers. Normal service will be resumed next week. THE SMITHS ‘Hand In Glove’ ...

SVENGALI IN PLATFORMS Video killed the radical star? Not in the case of Mozzer. Vid director supremo TIM ‘Mary Chain’ BROAD has helped rid MORRISSEY of his small-screen shyness with his first commercial video - Hulmerist. Words: Simon Williams STRANGE AS it may seem, were it not for Tim Broad, Morrissey's excursion into the video medium may well have been curtailed after one uncertain effort. The story begins on a Thursday afternoon in 1987 when Rough Trade supremo Geoff Travis finally persuaded the notoriously anti-promo Smiths to attempt a ‘proper’ video for ‘Girlfriend In A Coma'. He called Tim - already established as a director after working with the Mary Chain - and asked for a completed copy of the shoot by Monday. “I went along in the morning, and Morrissey was scheduled to arrive at lunchtime,” recalls Tim. “I must admit, the way that job came in, confirmed at 8p...

RENAISSANCE MANC • FACTORY: aloof, elegant, misunderstood Mancunian home of Joy Division, New Order, Happy Mondays, possibly the coolest record label in the world - but there are worries about its health. With lavish retrospective ‘Palatine’ out soon, ANTHONY H WILSON - game show host, clever git, sexy businessman, man who didn’t sign The Smiths - entertains STUART MACONIE with his art of conversation and confirms that, apart from a ‘ripped scrotum’, Factory is alive and well. Factotum in focus: KEVIN CUMMINS Granadaland - 6,000 square miles of multi-storey car parks, great football teams, breathtaking mountain scenery, cooling towers and the best in English beat music. Charlton, Sugden, Curtis, Barlow, Ryder, Formby, Rutherford, Hook, Sidebottom, Fields, Lawton, Lofthouse, Laurel, Hanley, Shelley, Morrissey, Marr, Bragg (Melvyn not Billy) and The Bee Gees. The roll call rings down the ages. And what has London given us ... Chas & Dave. Thanks. I’m on the roof of the ...