Morrissey at The Aragon Ballroom
Marah Eakin
Emerging in a tuxedo and going through three other shirt changes, Morrissey's sold-out show at The Aragon Ballroom on Saturday saw him charming his way through both Smiths classics and solo material, including several tracks from his latest record, this year's Years Of Refusal. Tracks like the mesmerizing “How Soon Is Now” and anthemic “Something Is Squeezing My Skull” were remarkably satisfying and soaring, as were Smiths jams like “I Keep Mine Hidden,” and new cuts like “I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris”—a track with lyrics that seem instantly memorable. Side note: It must be pretty boss to be Morrissey’s relatively young-looking band. Playing the keyboard line or that drone guitar from “How Soon is Now” every night looks as fun as it sounds. But somewhere in the 21-song set list, however, things got a little tepid.
Morrissey has long been bucking trends and playing a few tracks live that audiences don’t really respond to, and Saturday's performance was no exception. Closing the set with “I’m OK By Myself,” off his latest release, might seem like a great idea to him. As a big finish, however, it's underwhelming. Ditto for the one-song encore of “First Of The Gang To Die” off his 2004 release, You Are the Quarry. Still, it’s Morrissey, and to say the audience was sympathetic is an understatement. Even Morrissey’s set-list shortcomings were tolerated—if not celebrated. The crowd drank it all in, relishing every time he whipped the mic cable around or really belted out a chorus.
At one point, the singer noted that he’d first played the Aragon 24 years ago—with the Smiths, though, that went unmentioned, probably intentionally. “If you’d told me then that I’d be here now,” he growled, “I would have believed you.” Later, he ripped his shirt off and threw it into the crowd, nearly sparking a riot. Stunts like those are part of his regular shtick these days, but the response to his legendary “fuck you” attitude was palatable. Morrissey still inspires mega-fans, and they were out in full force.
It should be noted that if this audience is any indication, there isn’t a typical Moz fan anymore. Sure, there were plenty of people out in pegged jeans and pompadours, but there were also plenty of chin-strap bearded, backwards Sox baseball cap-wearing bros in attendance as well.
Whole books have been written about the frenzy Moz inspires. Thus, the dichotomy between boys-who-cry and total sports bros was refreshing. Said bros knew every single word of every single song and were prone to raising middle fingers every time Morrissey sang about being wronged.
Morrissey’s show was compelling not just because he’s just so damn charismatic, strutting, and preening through each cut, but also because it was such a production. Real showmanship doesn’t go unnoticed, and seeing something other than a bar band plodding through its new record is always appreciated. Heck, Morrissey’s band wore matching outfits—dressy ones with silk-screened ties emblazoned with the singer’s face, as well as matching short-on-the-sides, long-and-foppish-on-the-top haircuts. The stage not only featured an enormous vintage photo of a flexing sailor as a backdrop, but the drummer rocked both a massive bass drum and gong, which isn't used effectively in rock 'n' roll these days.
It should be noted that as far as venues for religious Moz experiences go, the Aragon is fitting. It’s as ethereal and idiosyncratic as the man himself. A little melancholy, but you hope you look that good when you’re that old.
