Pity Me Because I'm Too Sensitive For This World And Everyone's Wrong Except Me
Poised, some ten feet back, Morrissey scowls at no one in particular. His left hand is a rifle pointed at the microphone, his index finger the gun's barrel, loaded with implication. A sneering aggression emanating from the darkened vessels which have replaced his eyes, Morrissey has the demeanor of a belligerent ghoul. The photograph is a still taken from a recent live show in his home city of Manchester. The occasion was especially notable as it marked his return to the stage, after an absence of near seven years, and to the city inherent in his musical emergence. From the photographer's perspective, the microphone stand appears at least two feet taller than Morrissey himself, though it is he who undoubtedly dominates the picture.
The stage is typical of Morrissey's adoration of 1950's American culture- his name spelled out in twelve foot high capitals, which can only just be glimpsed in light spilled by the spotlight as it strains to catch him up. The eternally be-quiffed' Morrissey has the aura of James Dean (of whom he had a biography published), albeit with a weathered semblance. The despondent tone of his lyrics is in keeping with the iconic tragedy which pervades Dean's demise, and undoubtedly, questionable sexuality is a theme consistent in both. And, in spite of his propagated self-image as a hideous castaway, many have commented on Morrissey's physical likeness to Dean.
At his back, the band has just crashed into the furious riff of The Last of the Famous International Playboys,' as the crowd erupts in a cacophony of screams and applause, perhaps because of this song's cognizance with the most long-lived trope of the Morrissey repertoire- homoeroticism. However, homoeroticism implies nothing more than same-sex adoration and in no way pigeon holes his frequently contended sexuality- conclusions of which are hard to reach, and are probably best left so. In any case,...
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