The master of moan, the prince of pessimism. Either of these descriptions will do just fine in regards to Morrissey, who turned lyrical misanthropy into an art form first with the late, great Smiths in the ’80s and to a lesser degree as a solo artist over the past 20 years.
The British singer proved to be at his caustic best Thursday night at the Hollywood Palladium as he delivered songs old and new in a surprisingly generous 90-minute set. With Morrissey, you never know what you’re going to get onstage. In the past, the temperamental artist has been occasionally known to abruptly cancel shows or to play infuriatingly brief sets.
But on this night, Morrissey seemed invigorated and purposeful. Perhaps it was due to the rare pleasure he’s had in headlining a remarkable eight nights at the historic Palladium in his adopted hometown. It’s a reflection of his enduring and rabid cult status in Southern California that he has been able to pull off this impressive run of dates, which concluded this past Sunday night, at the 4,000-capacity ballroom.
Morrissey’s musical approach, worldview and cultural obsessions haven’t changed a great deal over the years. He’s still keenly interested in ’50s and early ’60s pop culture. His performance was preceded by film clips of various icons from that era, including James Dean, Bridget Bardot and various rockabilly artists. Indeed, Morrissey continues to wear his hair in an Elvis-style pompadour, his look since the early days of The Smiths.
Even the members of his five-piece backing band appeared to be time capsule refugees from the ’50s. Sporting bow ties, smart vests and short but slick haircuts, they looked like they could have been Bill Haley’s Comets performing on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1955. It helped immeasurably that his band played with impressive vigor and authority, particularly the drummer.
At the Palladium, Morrissey struck a nice balance between uptempo songs and more doleful ones. The former tunes sounded punchier than on CD, while the latter songs were still effective even if the volume of the live performance made it harder to decipher his overly wordy lyrics.
In case anyone missed out on the angst-ridden nature of his songs, Morrissey made sure his sentiments weren’t missed during the in-between song chatter. During these moments he questioned the meaning of it all and made some generally acerbic comments. At one point he joked that he had just performed on the Carson McCullers show when he had actually appeared on “Last Call with Carson Daly.” McCullers was a Southern novelist known for her alienated and isolated characters.
Highlights included a rousing, sing-along version of “The Last of the Famous International Playboys” and a set-closing “How Soon Is Now?” — the Smiths’ tune that ranks among the best rock songs ever recorded. Morrissey unveiled a number of unreleased songs from his forthcoming album, but he also pulled out quite a few old favorites like “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side” and “Stretch Out and Wait.”
At show’s end, Morrissey and his band came to the front of the stage for some bows as the crowd roared its appreciation. At this moment, any cynicism he might have harbored dripped away, and he seemed pleased and at ease. One sensed that he is not quite the extreme curmudgeon he paints himself to be.
