Spike Magazine

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Review [published April 2004]
Mark Simpson: Saint Morrissey
Ben Granger
This book is not for people who’ve never, even briefly,
fallen under Morrissey’s spell. Don’t bother; it’ll only
convince you further of the psycho-obsessive nature of
Morrissey fans in general and the author in particular.
Don’t bother either if you’re looking for new facts
about The Smiths or Morrissey, anything to do with
music rather than image or lyrics. It’s Johnny Rogan’s
Severed Alliance or Simon Goddard’s more recent
Songs That Saved Your Life you’re after, both of which
spell out in dry but meticulous detail most of what you
might want to know. And don’t bother if you’re looking
for objectivity, or if you’re turned off by riotously
over the top prose that out-does even Julie Burchill in
the school of forging constant rapid, rabid, contentious
assertions from very few base facts. Anyone left? Then,
like me, you’ll love it.
Simpson is a True Apostle of the cult of Moz, and
like all his ilk found this warped love during a troubled
adolescence, described with lively self mockery
in a chapter here. The Smiths landed like a chemical
warhead upon bored teenagers growing up in the most
soulless decade of the 20th century. Here was the ni-
BUY Mark Simpson books online from and
hilism of punk for an even more genuinely despairing
generation, with added literacy, sensitivity, wit, and
tunes. It was something they would never forget.
Detractors say Morrissey appeals to “the teenager”
because both he and they are contrary and self-pitying.
This is of course true. But there are better qualities
also at a premium in the best of the uppity adolescent
and the everyday work of the Moz. A breathtakingly
arrogant precociousness, a visceral impatience with the
banal, the solipsistic knowing you’re not like anyone
else, and the vicious world-weary wit of the damned.
All satirised brilliantly in his own song ‘Nobody Loves
Us’ casting both himself and his fans in the role of spoilt
children (“tuck us in / make us our favourite jam”).
As Simpson notes; “Sickness never sounded or felt
so good … I may have felt unloved or unlovable but
I also derived an exquisite, narcotic satisfaction from
the knowing of these things and to laugh under my
breath at the perversity of this knowledge.” Laugh
indeed, the faithful know there’s more laugh-outloud
humour in Smiths and Morrissey songs than in
almost any of the swill lapped up by the “oh he’s
475
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