The Moz’s latest great record defies classification

By Alison Smyth

Twenty-one years ago, Morrissey broke off from the iconic band The Smiths. But now he is back… Twenty-one years ago, Morrissey broke off from the iconic band The Smiths. But now he is back and taking his electric style to the masses — again.

Years of Refusal is Morrissey’s ninth studio album. His vocal style remains unchanged — backed by strings and clarinets when he’s feeling sentimental and a constant electric haze of guitar when he’s breathing.

The album comes at the height of a resurgence of rock icons from the recent past turned reinvented solo acts for a new generation of fans. Early last month, David Byrne of The Talking Heads made an appearance on ‘The Colbert Report’ to promote his latest release and to snatch up the coveted ‘Colbert bump.”

Morrissey recently visited Jimmy Fallon on ‘Late Night’ and ‘wrestled’ with Russell Brand.

It seems unfair that these guys have to make the rounds like every other musician. When they have released hit music for years and still manage to come up with a modern sound, don’t they deserve fame without pandering to the mass media?

Morrissey’s album is suitable for punks-all-grown-up and those who still wore diapers when the idea of Morrissey, sans The Smiths, was just a glimmer in the eyes of the English vocalist. That should count for something.

When a musician’s reached the top, fiddled around with finding his own solo style and perfected his craft before you were even born, it’s pretty obvious that he’s not citing Ok Go as his main influence. These works take on an individualist flair, tending toward the obscure — simultaneously experimental and sentimental. The music becomes a retrospective of the artist’s own work rather than some regurgitated tribute to days gone by.

With Morrissey, whether it’s romance, heartbreak or grief, it’s all reverberating riffs, fog machines and pyrotechnics — and that’s the appeal. It brings back that sound without trying too hard, and while the connection to the past is unmistakable, it’s not the essence of Morrissey.

It’s the show that he brings to the forefront with just his vocals or a carefully timed riff. The showmanship goes from the sadly sweet ‘Throwing My Arms Around Paris’ to the macabre-themed ‘Black Cloud’ without skipping a beat.

‘When I die, I want to go to hell,’ from the track ‘One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell,’ is pretty intense, even for a rock musician. These emotions run deep. Hell deep, and that’s something Chris Daughtry can’t hope to pull off with any measure of respect from the music community at large, with or without that Grammy.

Morrissey invokes more theatrical tones with ‘It’s Not Your Birthday Anymore.’ The track’s reminiscent of Depeche Mode, a la Songs of Faith and Devotion’s ‘Just One Caress.’ It’s got the vocal range of some dark, Disney mirror-image ballad. Fuzzy feelings don’t accompany those clarinet notes. It’s more of a cynical realism poured out of a wounded heart.

Similarly, ‘You Were Good In Your Time’ comes off slow and steady with its strings and soft brush of percussion. But at around 3:25, things get weird, and the melancholy musical number fades into monk-like chanting and sporadically spoken French. This is when ‘sad’ becomes a post-apocalyptic French nightmare. And do we need an explanation for this? No. Morrissey can do whatever he wants — it’s Morrissey.

In the long term, it isn’t looks that dictate a musician’s following. The adoption of hipster scarves and skinny jeans will not evoke images of youth.

If it did, Morrissey would be in trouble because lately he favors button downs with tuxedo ruffles over the current rock fashion trends.

This guy can throw his arms out like he’s in ‘The Sound of Music’ with pugs running around his feet and still ooze coolness out of every pore. He’s got stores of cool, so he can play the tambourine if he is so inclined.

The inconveniences of listening to the music of now-defunct bands emerge after only one minute. You like The Smiths? Sorry, but the band broke up in 1987.

If you want to hear its tunes, you’re stuck with your deluxe, remastered edition of The Sound of the Smiths. But wait — it’s 2009, and Morrissey has that entire Smiths flavor and none of the calories. You have all the new material and stage presence without that nasty ‘reunion tour’ aftertaste.

One of the benefits of the digital age: Good things just don’t go away. You can have your cake and eat it too. Your iPod can easily give you The Smiths when you’re feeling nostalgic and Morrissey when you want to crowd surf.

Keep an eye out, because the elite of the music industry past are coming back — and with a vengeance. They may be shunning the style, but ruffled rock is still leagues away from the Jonas Brothers. Those boys could learn a thing or two from Mr. Morrissey.