Morrissey @ Sunderland Empire 01/02/08

The idea that Morrissey is outdated is as outdated as Margaret Thatcher's hair. After a truly terrible support band (entitled 'Girl In A Coma' - my brother and I spent half their set trying to guess the gender of the drummer, so bored were we with their shouting riot-grrrrr noise) and a bizarre introduction comprising of a projection of James Dean wardrobe tests and some old footage of the New York Dolls, the real show began. And from the moment he strolled on stage in a tuxedo and announced, in thundering tones 'Sunderland, can you bear some poetry?' before launching into that old Smiths classic 'Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before', it was obvious that the great man has not lost his ability to incite chaos.
With the living guitar legend that is Boz Boorer leading the tight-as-Borrell's-jeans band, beautiful songs were laced with friendly banter and a genuine humility that would astonish even the harshest of his critics. It was not long before the audience erupted into crazed chants which did more than dislodge dust in the 111-year-old theatre, prompting embarrased laughter from the icon himself. For a renowned miserabilist, Morrissey's banter was second to none. 'I woke up at 4pm in the morning.....in Newcastle' he exclaimed, to mock-boos, 'and was confronted with a world of snow. It was beautiful. And it had to be Newcastle.....' Interaction with the crowd extended to politics. 'So, who's rooting for Hillary Clinton?' More boos. 'Obama?' Cheers all round. 'Thought so'.
The 19-song set comprised of material old ('The Loop', which saw the 48-year-old propelling himself across the stage bashing a tambourine) to the brand new, such as the single 'That's How People Grow Up', and new tracks such as 'I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris' and 'Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed'. As catchy and promising as the new songs sounded, however, it was 'the old ones are the best' that rang particularly true, with a particular highlight revolving around a breathtaking, seven-minute recreation of The Smiths' 'How Soon Is Now?' Howling guitars, psycadelic basslines and strobe lights caused each audience member to join their hero in a closing of eyes, ecstasy etched on each face. A similar feat was achieved as soaring pianos and a huge gong complemented the building up of 'Life Is A Pigsty' from eerie shuffle into full-blown climax, which left the singer lying on his back with his feet on an amplifier and arms outstretched, seemingly unable to stand up for a full five minutes. Of the ‘poppier’ songs, 'Irish Blood, English Heart' was disposed of with aplomb, and 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores' implored every body in the building to punch the air at the deadpan delivery of lines such as 'educated criminals work within the law!' and the bitter assertion of 'thicker than pig-shit' pop stars being 'unable to show intelligence'. One feels that this is especially poignant when so many a music fan nowadays prefers the dross of the likes of Lily Allen, Kate Nash and Mika to a true poet like Morrissey. And as the great man brought the show to a close with a euphorically ironic 'Last Of The International Playboys', before reaching out to touch fervoured fans and throwing his sweat-drenched shirt into the pit of pilgrims before him, it was obvious that it is going to take something incredibly special to usurp the Mozfather. Long may he live on.

Review by Kate Edwards