Erm, quite. I'd say more but, not being a magickian (or however the hell you spell it) I'm sort of at a loss. I can see how easily the Mozzster lends himself to archetypal categorisation, anyway.
In this week's Boyz (free gay paper - 'gayper') there's a review of the June 25th Meltdown performance, entitled 'The Light Still Hasn't Gone Out'. Essentially, it gives Morrissey a glowing review but comments of the sense of disappointment that, firstly, he waxes: "during the much-anticipated shirt-throwing in the last 20 minutes, he revealed a Hollywood torso which wasn't very sexy dad at all". I can sooo relate to this; I'd love to see Morrissey in all his woolly glory (and there must be some hairy beariness there). Secondly, the Boyz review commented, pertinently, that "any visit at the shrine of Morrissey in concert has to let you down. There's just so much you want him to sing and not enough time to sing it".
Which is true. |
