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Music

Adult Problems - In Defense of Morrissey

I’m the ACLU and Morrissey is my Skokie, Illinois.

I’m not a Morrissey fan. I like The Smiths in the “I acknowledge that they’re one of the 20th century's great rock 'n' roll bands” way, where I like them as much as Led Zeppelin and less than Sleater Kinney. They’re fine. I rarely listen to Morrissey the solo artist at all. I saw him recently in Atlantic City and only recognized the songs that rockabilly fans know too. I’ve always found his charm forced and I only tolerate appropriation of nationalistic imagery and fetishization of skinhead culture from Danish post-punk teeny bopper groups. So, really, I’ve been more than happy to write off Morrissey as merely a ghost of my Christmas future; handsome and pompous, with a poor handle on my shirt buttons. But his latest idiocy and the snarkery that’s ensued put me in the uncomfortable position of feeling the need to defend the man who once called the Chinese a “sub-species.” I’m the ACLU and Morrissey is my Skokie, Illinois.

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Moz’s most recent causes for distress are tertiary. First, he made his Los Angeles Staples Center show vegetarian, which was mocked by many, including some of my respected peers, as a hideously empty gesture. Apparently, taking any sort of moral stance vis-a-vis not eating meat is entirely meaningless unless you save all the puppies that ever lived. Secondly, he made some appallingly inane statements on the nature of homosexuality and warfare, including the quote “Wars and armies and nuclear weapons are essentially heterosexual hobbies” on the amazingly awesome website for teenage girls, Rookie (don’t bother me about reading a site for teenage girls; it’s the only place to read articles about Labelle). That was dopey as all hell, but—and I’ll get more into this in a bit—dopey doesn’t bother me in a pop star. And, thirdly, he recently canceled an appearance on Jimmy Kimmel because the cast of Duck Dynasty was scheduled to appear on the same episode. Again, a moral stance is something to be mocked, in this case, to side with Sarah Silverman’s ex-boyfriend and a reality show about…you know what?…fuck getting into some weird class bullshit here; I have no problem with hunting, but IT’S A REALITY SHOW. We, as a subspecies, shouldn’t be siding with the cast of a reality show against anyone. And I say that as someone mildly invested in the Real Housewives of Atlanta. What? “No Scrubs” is a great song. But I’ll side with Mark McGrath in jackboots over a fucking reality show. Get it together, people.

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When Dave Berman said of Radiohead, “Never before has there been a 'greatest band in the world' who had so little to say about anything,” he could have been talking about any number of popular bands or singers. It's endemic—the blandness and empty-headed faux profundity of most semi-famous-to-famous singers and frontpersons. You can look to Neko Case, John Darnielle, or Tunde Adebimpe for articulate anger, but—fairly or not—they aren’t famous, not really. Almost everyone from Morrissey-level on up is a complete dope, but the nice thing about Morrissey is the specificity of his daftness. He talks boldly about things he’s wildly unqualified to discuss, but he also expounds at length about not just “being good,” but actually changing specific behavior. He talks about consequences and is willing to suffer them himself. Yeah, the blow of public ridicule is softened considerably, I’d imagine, by the thousands of worshipful fans, but that level of popularity hasn’t made too many other celebrities equally brash, has it? Even a character like Kanye West couldn’t take the blowback from his entirely reasonable “Bush doesn’t care about black people” comment and retreated into the tedious deranged narcissism of a run-of-the-mill Howard Hughes.

As per usual, it’s the lameness of the opposition that makes me want to stick up for an arguably racist, always irritating princeling of a man like Morrissey. If it were up to me, I’d stick to writing Drum Machine of Sisters of Mercy slash fiction, but the scorn and contempt poured upon any artist who dares be obnoxious in any way that isn’t sanctioned by the ever-shifting mores of the entertainment media drives me bananas. Maybe I should just get off Twitter. Morrissey may be a fool. But he’s an earnest and daring fool. Those that are genuinely outraged by him—Asians disgusted by his previous comments, women annoyed with his almost Victorian notions of masculinity, aesthetes who just miss Johnny Marr—I also side with you. Honest distaste I can get behind. It’s the arched eyebrows and smug smirks of the chattering hordes that I will forever be in opposition to—those without the courage to state an opposing belief but stand ready to rain down scorn on any artist weird enough to have an opinion other than “war/AIDS/Christianity bad.” I’m not really sure when comedians and music critics became Fifth Estate, but it’s had a detrimental effect on our pop stars saying awesome things. Nobody likes to be mocked by a hack in a tie or a dolt on a keyboard. Morrissey was right to call Jimmy Kimmel out, and I hope it leads to more of the same. Ideally, it will be from people like Conor Oberst, whose politics tend to mesh more with mine, but in the meantime: Morrissey, you fantastically-coifed complete jerk, keep saying occasionally righteous and occasionally insane things. I support you.

Zach should probably get off Twitter. Until then, follow him here - @zacharylipez

Previously - Throw Punches, Not Tweets