Cuttings

 

TURNIPS HAVE FEELINGS TOO THE SMITHS Mick Middles ( Omnibus Press £3.95 ) THE CURE Jo-Anne Greene  (Bobcat £3.50) DEPECHE MODE  Dave Thomas  (Bobcat £3.50) DEAR GOD. What is the point of issuing 40-odd pages long biogs that only serve to alarm the reader over the amount of records that bands like The Cure and Depeche Mode have released?  You realise what a blessing Morrissey and his Performing Stigmata are - though to be fair to Greene and Thomas, there is a lot more to write about, especially when yours is an unauthorised biography. Stalwart Mancunian pop scribbler Mick Middles has produced an ambitious, conscientious and painstaking work, remaining compassionate throughout despite being 'waved aside without so much as an acknowledgement' when he first approached The Smiths for co-operation in this project. There should be nothing to upset Morrissey in this critique - but with Morrissey being a delicately-strung instrument you never know. Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke scarcely

ODDS, SODS AND ODDS AND SODS Dear Ian Pye, in days of old, before the NME even contemplated becoming the bible of the naive young hypocrite, Ian Pye’s subservient interview attitude towards young Steven Morrissey would have been known as ‘advertising’. No matter, I have been guilty of the same crime recently thanks to the overwhelming power that is afforded to those with money. On a less cryptic front, I refer to the comments made about my Smiths book in mid-interview. Morrissey appears to have unwittingly grasped the idea behind the book, as such, his comments were both welcome and accurate. You, Ian, on the other hand have not only missed the point but have fallen for the parody. I can’t believe that you could be so gullible. To suggest that the book suffers from "...trainspotter mentality..." is not only absurd, it is the complete antithesis of the book in question. Or then again, perhaps you haven't really read it. Either way, in future I suppose that I'll have

PUNK POLITICO THE METAMORPHOSIS of Liverpool's Derek Hatton into latter-day punk anti-hero was finally achieved on Saturday night, when New Order, The Fall and The Smiths staged a benefit gig, 'From Manchester With Love', at Liverpool's Royal Court, in aid of the councillors' Legal Appeal Fund. But Morrissey and Johnny Marr spoiled the Deputy Leader's Valentine party by choosing at the final curtain not to appear on stage with local combo The Lloyd Collection. With the mikes turned off. The Fall away and gone, and only Bernard Albrecht of New Order actively joining in, Lloyd's attempt at 'Maggie's Farm', sans Hatton, trailed off into a spasm of gobbing, can and bottle-chucking, effectively scuppering the grand political finale. Earlier, Hatton, self-consciously dressed down for the occasion in blue leather jacket, open-necked shirt and cords, pronounced himself 'dead made up'. And well he might, the Manchester bands' presence alone en

MANCHESTER ON THE MERSEY Manchester bands flock together to save Liverpool’s council. Anna Martin wonders where the Liverpool bands have all gene. Kerstin Rodgers wonders where her spare film is. Two big groups, New Order and The Smiths, have both put their best side forward for the staging of the ‘Support Liverpool Labour Council’ Benefit, which has been organised in support of the 48 Labour councillors who have been put in court by the Official Receiver. As we wait outside, one smart-mouthed Scally quips that the benefit is actually to raise money to pay for the Royal Court’s electricity bill! GERM WARFARE At 7.55pm precisely, and with a minimal amount of stage elaboration/decor New Order take to the stage like germs to an open wound—fierce and assaulting. Bassist Peter Hook strikes his ‘guitar-hero’ pose and the band battle on relentlessly. Although not what you might describe as much to look at on stage, New Order save themselves with the classic ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’. And song

THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT NOT LIKE THE OLD DAYS ANYMORE? ... "We cannot cling to the old dreams anymore." The fans know, even if, for now, Morrissey doesn't; The Smiths are no more. There cannot be a 'new' Smiths, a 'different' Smiths or 'added-wonder-ingredient' Smiths since the very essence of the group lay in the public love-affair - personal and artistic - between Steven Patrick Morrissey and Johnny Marr, and in their interlocking differences. The magic of The Smiths was sparked when the former's knowingly innocent, lovelessly sexual missives on monotony, misery, mischief and mirth were shaped, spotlit and shot full of intense, emotive, life by the latter's almost-familiar, almost-perfect classic rock frames. Stripped of either, the band that remains or emerges might be any one of a million different fab 'n groovy things; but it will not - simply cannot - be The Smiths ... Why all the fuss? What did they do? Equipped wi

  The Smiths: Cult of the miserable Ken Garner profiles lonely hearts club band The Smiths, recently hit by the defection of their guitarist, and unravels the maudlin appeal of singer/lyricist Morrissey. Every week in the personal columns of the music papers, dozens of young men draw freely on one group’s lyrics to describe themselves to prospective partners of mostly the opposite sex. 'I don’t have much in my life, but take it, it’s yours,’ proffers one. Another is '16, clumsy and shy’. Trying the patience of copyright holders, the most common plea is: ‘If you have five seconds to spare, I’ll tell you the story of my life.’ It will take only a little longer to tell the story of The Smiths, the group behind this outburst of national song. How guitarist and tunesmlth Johnny Marr recruited into his Manchester group an odd stay-at-home poet and vocalist, to be known only by his surname of Morrissey. How, with bassist Andy Rourke and drummer Mike Joyce, they went on to enjoy chart-

I never visit. I'm never visited. I never have people to tea. The Smiths have weathered their crises of confidence, drink and drugs and have just signed to EMI for a rumoured £lm. Yet lead singer Morrissey still lives his eccentric, monastic, bookish, celibate life, in a dark, secluded Chelsea flat with only one light bulb — and remains as charming as ever. Daniela Soave talks to this uncommon man. Steven Patrick Morrissey, 28, sometime author, mostly-singer and eccentric figurehead of the Smiths, is looking incredulous, perplexed and plain put out. “Oh,” he finally utters in his soft, Mancunian accent. “Oh. No-one’s ever said that to my face. Do you really think that of me?” Morrissey frowns again, obviously thinking that he's been landed with a bad-mannered hussy. But this charming man is as accommodating as ever and, still striving to be polite, he tries to get to the crux of the matter. "You say I talk like a berk,” he says, in hurt tones. “Why?” Book! B-O-O-K! Your

CROWNING GLORY Twenty years ago this month, The Smiths were battling drink, drugs, depression and lawyers. They should have split up. Instead, they created their masterpiece, The Queen Is Dead. On the eve of its 20th anniversary, Smiths biographer and Uncut contributor Simon Goddard travels to Manchester where Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce reveal all about the album of the '80s... and disclose just what it would take for The Smiths to reform. Photography: Stephen Wright I'M ALONE, AND I'M OUTSIDE what used to be Morrissey's house: 384 Kings Road in Stretford, Manchester. A car pulls into the driveway next door. An elderly gent climbs out, takes one look at your man from Uncut and shouts over: "He doesn't live there any more. Him. Smiths." It turns out the neighbour can remember when the young Steven Patrick Morrissey did live there, albeit vaguely. "You never saw him much," he says, which tallies with the singer's mythological