Why I Always Knew That Morrissey Was A Giant Twat

What with Morrissey's book hitting stores today, many know what to expect: the bitter ramblings of a pretentious twat - well, he does have previous...
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What with Morrissey's book hitting stores today, many know what to expect: the bitter ramblings of a pretentious twat - well, he does have previous...

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Morrissey is a twat, isn't he? Everyone knows that. Whether he's coming out with his dubious neo-fascist nonsense or blaming Kate Middleton for contributing to that nurse's death, there's always one kind of crap or another falling from his miserable lips. It hasn't always been this way, mind. There was a time when you would have thought he was some kind of miserable, four-eyed Jesus. Preaching his moany gospel in early 80's England. As if the place wasn't miserable enough already, we had to put up with him singing about his broken bicycle on a hillside desolate and getting run over by a bus. And not having any clothes or something.

The thing is, I've ALWAYS thought Morrissey was a twat. Long before you thought he was a twat. Right from the beginning. Right from the first time I clapped eyes on him. "Twat", I thought to myself. And I was right. Because the music that he constantly played said absolutely nothing to me about my life.

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Why Morrissey Is Dead To Me

Meetings With Morrissey

Around the time The Smiths started to appear on TOTP, Somethin' Else and Nozin' Aroun', everyone I knew was into the Essex Soulboy/Casual thing, wearing expensive clothes, listening to Jazz/Funk, going out dancing at places like The Goldmine, Zero 6 and Duke's, dabbing sulph, getting drunk, (occasionally) fighting and going on the pull. As odd as it may seem, this was TREMENDOUS FUN - I was 17 in 1983, I had a decent job in The City, my mates all had decent jobs and the world was our oyster. Cheap holidays abroad, weekenders in Caister, our own cars and lots of disposable income.

Yes, looking back at old photos from that time, we looked like right knobs, but we were happy knobs. Being miserable wasn't that appealing. Our lives were more "Club Tropicana" than "Late Night Maudlin Street". I've heard that Morrissey wrote "Hang The DJ" after Radio 1 played "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" immediately after a news broadcast about the Chernobyl disaster. Typical. On top of some depressing news, he writes a depressing song.

I've never understood why he was so miserable. Instead of sitting at home in a dreary Manc bedsit complaining, he should have come out with us. "Here, Morrissey - get some speed down your gullet, get pissed and try to pull some tart, you miserable cardigan wearing cunt". That would've been my advice.