As handsome as he is, Morrissey is one of the people who ultimately killed rock n' roll. He whines and cries about queerness. Did Axl Rose cry? Did Sammy Hagar cry? Did Ian Gillan cry? Go to hell.
First of all, what a title - Morrissey knows how he's stereotyped and isn't afraid to play
with it. In terms of the music, this is an album that could quite comfortably sit alongside
the likes of Meat is Murder and Strangeways... in The Smiths catalouge, with strong singles
such as "Everyday is Like Sunday" and "Suedehead" easily holding their own with the singles
released by his previous band.
Musically, the album doesn't miss Johnny Marr. Although it's true he was of equal importance
to Morrissey in The Smiths, this isn't The Smiths, and like much of his later work, the
emphasis here, even more so than before, is on Morrissey's words, which is of course the
reason he has struck a chord with so many in the past.
