Morrissey (and that lightpost) knocked me out
December 1, 2009 § 4 Comments
Sunday was the day that a group of five Moz obsessed Canadians trooped by Greyhound down to Seattle to watch the man perform. The excursion had a few casualties, sanity being one of them. Upon our arrival, Tim dragged us into a Hot Topic (which we do not have in Canada) to look at Twilight stuff where we were assaulted by the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met that kept insisting we sign up for their rewards card. They looked like cartoons. I didn’t know people like this existed. From there we went to this Chinese restaurant called Genghis Kahn where Tim and I drank $1 Coronas in toast to Morrissey. Apparently Corona is Morrissey’s favourite beer. Everyone else being non-drinkers or underage in America did not partake. So when Tim and I started kicking each other we had to be physically restrained by our sober friends.
On to the concert itself, we had nosebleed seats, being poor and having to pay for Greyhound tickets in addition to concert ones, but we were told that of the middle section few tickets had been sold so once Morrissey took the stage we were allowed to run up closer. The Paramount Theatre was very grand (and slightly gaudy) but with good sound and clear viewing from all seats. The opener was Doll & The Kicks, a British group that was a bit lacklustre, fronted by a girl who seemed at times to sound good and other times like she was trying to have too much attitude forcefully. Their songs seemed to range between two types: dancey rock or mid-tempo generic rock. Morrissey took the stage after a surprisingly short wait that was eased by old music videos of Mighty Joe and pre-Velvet Underground Nico, singing “I’m Not Sayin'” which I’ve talked about before.
Once we had run up to the second row of the middle section, Moz and the band blasted out a very rock version of “This Charming Man” which wasn’t quite as true to the original as I would have hoped, lacking the jangliness of the original. Besides that, it was an amazing show with some odd song choices that didn’t really hinder the experience, in fact, managed to convince me to reinvestigate songs I had once dismissed as merely being “okay” mixed with The Smiths classics like “How Soon is Now?” with Moz saying “I’m still the son”. I had hoped he would play at least “Everyday is Like Sunday” but it was understandably newer material and The Smiths they primarily played and everyone hopes for their one favourite obscure Morrissey song that they will never hear because his discography is too large. He was in top form, not showing any signs of ill-health that has worried fans since his recent collapse on stage. He threw off his shirt at the end and was looking surprisingly muscular for a man in his fifties. The merch was a bit overpriced, $40 for a t-shirt is a little steep for most people and the man handling the desk was obnoxious. I asked what songs were on the 7″ because I couldn’t see it clearly and his response was “2 songs.” Thanks guy.
The rest of the evening was spent bumming between all-night cafés because we’re poor, although in retrospect, the amount of money paid out for food at these places could have covered a cheap hotel room. The saving grace was the good weather that wasn’t all that cold and blessed us by not raining. The bad included Tim reaching to shake the hand of a girl with no hand, Ashleigh losing her phone and elbowing me in the eye, which made it difficult for me to see and ended with me walking into a pole and Hannah breaking a toilet in a bar at 5:30am, whilst standing on the seat trying to write lyrics for “How Soon is Now?” on the stall. Julian was virtually unscathed; his iPhone was a saviour in that it directed us to various all-night cafés. A poignant moment was at 5:10am when Ashleigh and Tim were asleep on a bench outside, while Hannah, Julian and I brooded sleepily over our coke, orange juice and toast and amongst a barrage of shitty 10 year old alt-rock “I Know it’s Over” by The Smiths came on and we sang along.
By the end of it we were all feeling a little nauseous, but no regrets.