"Morrissey's Kill Uncle and the Wet-Dog-Record Theory" - The New Yorker

New Yorker culture critic Ben Greenman offers a new take on Kill Uncle upon its re-release:

Morrissey's Kill Uncle and the Wet-Dog-Record Theory - The New Yorker

 

[Anonymous]

]If Morrissey really wanted to fix Kill Uncle, he should've removed all traces of it by pressing 'erase' on the master tapes and presented a blank disc to posterity. It was better in the days when LPs got deleted and acts could forget their frankensteins. Delete. Erase. Deny existence of it.

In new "Uncut" KILL UNCLE got 8/10. Better than Marr's new LP. So, (if) the worst of Morrissey is far better than the best of Marr. Get it?, how fantastic artist is Morrissey! True Artist = Morrissey. The Last (AND THE BEST) Pop Icon.

 

[Uncleskinny]

Oh you unlettered lunatic, but you are anonymous! Brummie Boy, WTF, I know who you are and you are fat bold ugly 60 years old impotent pauper. Listen, The Knife is shit, New Bowie is gigantic crap. New Suede is so so, and new British Sea Power is very very good. But, ROTT and YOR - pure gold. Fantastic records in every view. Morrissey is the best and he is icon. OK? Get it? Understand. But you, you sad pauper, find a life. Live. You have only 10 years in front of you. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. The world belongs to you for a season... Don't squander the gold of your days on some site. And, put this "Swords" LP on, enjoy in beauty of "Christian Dior" lyrics:
You wasted your life
On aroma and clothes
Fabric and dyes

Christian Dior
You wasted your life
On grandeur and style
Making the poor rich smile

You could have run wild
On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille
Reckless and legless and stoned
Impregnating women
Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli
Who couldn't even write their own name

Christian Dior
You wasted your life
Sensually stroking the weaves of a sleeve.

You could have run wild
On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille
Reckless and legless and stoned
Impregnating women
Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli
Who couldn't even spell their own name

Oh, Christian Dior
Oh, Christian Dior

When you look at me
Failure is all that you see
I discipline my days just like Christian Dior

I could've run loudly and proudly
Or forcible entry
Morally bankrupt
And never non-violent
And drawn to what scares me
And scared of what bores me
Years alone will never be returned.

Christian Dior
Lyonise maverick, ah
Design if you can, ah
The way to just be a man, ah
To just be a man, ah

Bit dull in Croatia, is it?

P.

 

[Anonymous]

Bit dull in Croatia, is it?

P.

Sunny coast. You should visit. Great food also.

 

[BrummieBoy]

Oh you unlettered lunatic, but you are anonymous! Brummie Boy, WTF, I know who you are and you are fat bold ugly 60 years old impotent pauper. Listen, The Knife is shit, New Bowie is gigantic crap. New Suede is so so, and new British Sea Power is very very good. But, ROTT and YOR - pure gold. Fantastic records in every view. Morrissey is the best and he is icon. OK? Get it? Understand. But you, you sad pauper, find a life. Live. You have only 10 years in front of you. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. The world belongs to you for a season... Don't squander the gold of your days on some site. And, put this "Swords" LP on, enjoy in beauty of "Christian Dior" lyrics:
You wasted your life/n aroma and clothes/Fabric and dyes/Christian Dior/You wasted your life/On grandeur and style/Making the poor rich smile/You could have run wild/On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille/Reckless and legless and stoned/Impregnating women/Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli/Who couldn't even write their own name/Christian Dior/You wasted your life/Sensually stroking the weaves of a sleeve/When you look at me, Brummie Boy: Failure is all that you see
I discipline my days just like Christian Dior/I could've run loudly and proudly/Or forcible entry/Morally bankrupt/And never non-violent/And drawn to what scares me
And scared of what bores me/Years alone will never be returned/Christian Dior/Lyonise maverick, ah/Design if you can, ah/The way to just be a man, ah/To just be a man, ah

Hilarious! You Moz fans are the lulz, some of the best nut-jobs on da Interwebz. I'm guessing Long Island? LOL! I'm not 60 and I'm not an obese baldy bastard. If someone in the team sent you pics of me looking like Syd Barrett or something, that's very naughty of them, but also very funny. I'm 52. Full head of hair, though it's grey, thinning slightly and receding, but that's just cuz there's so much testosterone. Kinda George Clooney...must get the Regaine stuff. I might be a pauper or I might be very rich. Again, I've no idea what the mischief makers have told you via email (?). I give them free reign, though I think they have some 'automatic text generator' program from my salon speeches and stand-up shows. I could care less, if it's me writing this, of course, and not them. Or Sharon. "all the guys and the signores, who will write my story?".

I might have 1 year, 10 years or 50 years in front of me. did they tell you I had cancer? That's nonsense. Sometimes it's HIV, somtimes 'insanity' is given as the reason, but the real reason is I declined the offer to be 'bigger than Elvis' in 1974, chose marriage, kids and career and gave a few notes to a few likely lads who seemed interested in my ideas. Now I've finally accepted my destiny as 'The Pope Of Pop. Warhol 2.0' and all the rest of it. You don't normally become a Pope at 52, it's very young! I've no interest in the past, in any of that 'icon' 'star' 'fan' crap. I'm the future, from the most distant past. Your comment/warning/ advice is well rubbish, but I do like this bit:

"Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. The world belongs to you for a season... Don't squander the gold of your days.."

I am living, I lose nothing. Spring is unfolding outside the window as I type, I live in Paradise here in The Shire and in Birmingham's Mordor. I'm not missing or squandering anything, unlike loser pop stars in 5 star hotel prisons..I found love, everything else went on the back boiler. Fame is a mental illness in the mind of the fan and the star. Nobody who knows anything about fame wants anything to do with it. I told folk that in Bogarts and Barbarellas but they were young and silly, god bless them all! Especially that O'Dowd and Degville in Oasis Market. And those hilarious Fàshiön Music chaps. LOL! Duran(d) Duran(d) - Milo O'Shea! So much to answer for!!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fashion_(band)

Nobody knows me, because I don't exist other than in other people's imagination. I use the name and the p.r press front of a middle-age devout Catholic man who is part of the scam, but there's no one person called 'BrummieBoy'. You've been taken for a ride I'm afraid. But I did see some of those loopy phone videos you sent whilst on shopping sprees in Manhattan. Say hello to Fred Schneider and Madonna if you see them out and about in da Hamptons. Just say "BrummieBoy sends his regards!" and watch their faces....I have Harry Potter's invisibility cloak and Bilbo's ring. No one can find me, no one can even see me. I'm invisible, like a dark hole on the event horizon of popular culture, the anti-matter anti-star at the end of space-time reality. Worse than Dr Who, I'm afraid. If you come to Britain, do get in touch and I'll send someone along who's pretending to be me pretending to be someone else who's also pretending to be me. Hall of mirrors.

"I watched BrumieBoy. I watched BrummieBoy watching everybody. I would hear people saying the most astonishing things, the craziest things, the funniest things, the saddest things."

"I nearly always gave it away. On the backstreets of Brum or 'playing away'. Only police and thieving priests had to pay and pay.
Wide-eyed, legless with a boner -watching you impregnate bitches who then thought they owned ya.Snoggin street boys drunk and so ashamed,
they wouldn't even give up their own real name."

Christian Dior? Yeah, right...Or maybe you're Skyfarker pretending to be Viva Khate? Any road, I give up on this place. You lot! With your personas and avatars! What's a thicko BrummieBoy who talks like a navvy supposed to do? I can't compete. I'll get me coat....

 

[BrummieBoy]

Bit dull in Croatia, is it?

P.

Eddie O'C? It ain't you, surely!!! from the Probe to the Dalmatian Riviera...you must be doing a shed-load of skunk, man, cuz you write just like some bint on Long Island who pushed her luck then got pissy when the velvet rope appeared. Eddie, if it is you, get in touch via Shazza, ok? We'll get you the help you need. At last.

Now, stop playing Kill Uncle, I was right, there's nothing there though some songs are fun live. Daughter: Duke Of E'bro, horse-riding? Check! Son, household chores done? Check! Time for some retail therapy at the retail park, see if Matalan have any of those Sabbath 78 US tour t-shirts in my size.

Next time I leave this site, I'll never come back....but it's so addictive. Shame Skylarker's so quiet, but you can't have everything and last summer's Olympic LulzFest probably wore his brain out before he realised he was being set up for the sucker punch!

Laters!

 

[BrummieBoy]

In new "Uncut" KILL UNCLE got 8/10. Better than Marr's new LP. So, (if) the worst of Morrissey is far better than the best of Marr. Get it?, how fantastic artist is Morrissey! True Artist = Morrissey. The Last (AND THE BEST) Pop Icon.

Uncut's ok, but a bit Boomer Dad Rock heritage site for me. Not surprised they 'Like!' it as they probably spent months listening to it when it came out trying to pretend it wasn't an enormous howler. Odd they're still doing that, but that's the 'sunk investment thesis' for ya! Michael Jackson was the last and best Pop Icon. He was the King of Pop, but I'm the Pope of Pop. Kings bow before Popes, at least they do in the parallel Milton & Dante dimension I mostly hang out in. Johnny Marr was really fantastic at Digbeth Institute on St Paddy's Eve. We had a great night. He played about 5 songs by The Smiths ensemble and made them his own. All the mods were singing along, not feeling poofy like they did at a Moz show. Marr democratised the lyrics and they were better for it. He did extra encores, including "I Fought The Law", but his track "The Messenger" was the highlight. What a blistering track! Rest of his CD isn't up to that but he shows real late-in-life promise as a singer-songwriter-guitar-God mod.

I hope Moz is a comfort to you. And the herd culture endorsements of 'Uncut' magazine. Bye now 'anonymous'...LOL!

 

[Tenderhool]

I've always liked Kill Uncle. I also think it's funny that Morrissey chose Rick Astley as alternative to Bowie on the Playboys single. Good poke at the grand dame. Um, yeah, the music industry has changed...so have bookstores. Change isn't necessarily good in itself or a step forward. Morrissy remains interesting even of infuriating. Whether he charts with old or new material next to current pop artists who repackage the past with their auto tunes means little if anything. No surprise there...the real surprise would have been if he he did chart.

 

[HandThatRocksTheCradle]

Uncut's ok, but a bit Boomer Dad Rock heritage site for me. Not surprised they 'Like!' it as they probably spent months listening to it when it came out trying to pretend it wasn't an enormous howler. Odd they're still doing that, but that's the 'sunk investment thesis' for ya! Michael Jackson was the last and best Pop Icon. He was the King of Pop, but I'm the Pope of Pop. Kings bow before Popes, at least they do in the parallel Milton & Dante dimension I mostly hang out in. Johnny Marr was really fantastic at Digbeth Institute on St Paddy's Eve. We had a great night. He played about 5 songs by The Smiths ensemble and made them his own. All the mods were singing along, not feeling poofy like they did at a Moz show. Marr democratised the lyrics and they were better for it. He did extra encores, including "I Fought The Law", but his track "The Messenger" was the highlight. What a blistering track! Rest of his CD isn't up to that but he shows real late-in-life promise as a singer-songwriter-guitar-God mod.

I hope Moz is a comfort to you. And the herd culture endorsements of 'Uncut' magazine. Bye now 'anonymous'...LOL!

I read "Uncut", but my brain registered "Unplugged"...boy was I about chuffed thinking Morrissey was releasing "Kill Uncle" as an Unplugged album- remember MTV in the 90s....everybody was unplugged! Oh, well....enough said.

 

[BrummieBoy]

I read "Uncut", but my brain registered "Unplugged"...boy was I about chuffed thinking Morrissey was releasing "Kill Uncle" as an Unplugged album- remember MTV in the 90s....everybody was unplugged! Oh, well....enough said.

That would have been genuinely interesting. Boz: White Gretsch Falcon with vintage valve amp. Stand up bass and Pogues/Stray Cats drums. Recorded in 1 day like the Sun Sessions that both claim to be inspired by. And a neat echo of the live transformation of dud songs. But that would require something other than entirely conventional milking of an ageing audience, as hung up on former glories and nostalgia as Morrissey.

Nothing to stop him doing it in the next week or so and binning 'Kill Uncle's contribution to the remaster Loudness Wars. A totally pointless project which shows just how much Morrissey needs firm direction from an auteur, a producer and a P.R press team that keep the Salt Grindr 'best mt8 on the payroll' hidden from public view....some of the songs trapped inside 'Kill Uncle' deserved parole. It didn't happen. As with so many other things, a lazy, wasted opportunity from a lazy corporate rock whore: who is no longer the employee of a large music corporation...and can't understand how or why the world has moved on. "Kill Uncle-Unplugged: The Rockabilly Remixes". Make it so!

 

[Peterb]

Hilarious! You Moz fans are the lulz, some of the best nut-jobs on da Interwebz. I'm guessing Long Island? LOL! I'm not 60 and I'm not an obese baldy bastard. If someone in the team sent you pics of me looking like Syd Barrett or something, that's very naughty of them, but also very funny. I'm 52. Full head of hair, though it's grey, thinning slightly and receding, but that's just cuz there's so much testosterone. Kinda George Clooney...must get the Regaine stuff. I might be a pauper or I might be very rich. Again, I've no idea what the mischief makers have told you via email (?). I give them free reign, though I think they have some 'automatic text generator' program from my salon speeches and stand-up shows. I could care less, if it's me writing this, of course, and not them. Or Sharon. "all the guys and the signores, who will write my story?".

I might have 1 year, 10 years or 50 years in front of me. did they tell you I had cancer? That's nonsense. Sometimes it's HIV, somtimes 'insanity' is given as the reason, but the real reason is I declined the offer to be 'bigger than Elvis' in 1974, chose marriage, kids and career and gave a few notes to a few likely lads who seemed interested in my ideas. Now I've finally accepted my destiny as 'The Pope Of Pop. Warhol 2.0' and all the rest of it. You don't normally become a Pope at 52, it's very young! I've no interest in the past, in any of that 'icon' 'star' 'fan' crap. I'm the future, from the most distant past. Your comment/warning/ advice is well rubbish, but I do like this bit:

"Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. The world belongs to you for a season... Don't squander the gold of your days.."

I am living, I lose nothing. Spring is unfolding outside the window as I type, I live in Paradise here in The Shire and in Birmingham's Mordor. I'm not missing or squandering anything, unlike loser pop stars in 5 star hotel prisons..I found love, everything else went on the back boiler. Fame is a mental illness in the mind of the fan and the star. Nobody who knows anything about fame wants anything to do with it. I told folk that in Bogarts and Barbarellas but they were young and silly, god bless them all! Especially that O'Dowd and Degville in Oasis Market. And those hilarious Fàshiön Music chaps. LOL! Duran(d) Duran(d) - Milo O'Shea! So much to answer for!!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fashion_(band)

Nobody knows me, because I don't exist other than in other people's imagination. I use the name and the p.r press front of a middle-age devout Catholic man who is part of the scam, but there's no one person called 'BrummieBoy'. You've been taken for a ride I'm afraid. But I did see some of those loopy phone videos you sent whilst on shopping sprees in Manhattan. Say hello to Fred Schneider and Madonna if you see them out and about in da Hamptons. Just say "BrummieBoy sends his regards!" and watch their faces....I have Harry Potter's invisibility cloak and Bilbo's ring. No one can find me, no one can even see me. I'm invisible, like a dark hole on the event horizon of popular culture, the anti-matter anti-star at the end of space-time reality. Worse than Dr Who, I'm afraid. If you come to Britain, do get in touch and I'll send someone along who's pretending to be me pretending to be someone else who's also pretending to be me. Hall of mirrors.

"I watched BrumieBoy. I watched BrummieBoy watching everybody. I would hear people saying the most astonishing things, the craziest things, the funniest things, the saddest things."

"I nearly always gave it away. On the backstreets of Brum or 'playing away'. Only police and thieving priests had to pay and pay.
Wide-eyed, legless with a boner -watching you impregnate bitches who then thought they owned ya.Snoggin street boys drunk and so ashamed,
they wouldn't even give up their own real name."

Christian Dior? Yeah, right...Or maybe you're Skyfarker pretending to be Viva Khate? Any road, I give up on this place. You lot! With your personas and avatars! What's a thicko BrummieBoy who talks like a navvy supposed to do? I can't compete. I'll get me coat....

Have you noticed B.B that often, and certainly in the case of the last Anon post, your detractors posts are written in a style that clearly is trying to emulate yours!

 

[jessesamuel]

"the muscular jangle-balladry of 'There’s a Place in Hell for Me and My Friends.'"

What? If there's any muscle in the album version of that song, it's quite flaccid.

 

[Deleted member 1074]

"the muscular jangle-balladry of 'There’s a Place in Hell for Me and My Friends.'"

What? If there's any muscle in the album version of that song, it's quite flaccid.

It has been replaced with the live KROQ version...

 

[Anonymous]

I thought this was supposed to be at least an acquittal of Kill Uncle, if not a re-review. But after the first couple graphs, the album was not so much as mentioned. All we got were reasons for its derision and a little back story on the Smiths breakup, but then nothing on the Album's merits, which I thought would be discussed. I understand that Kill Uncle was supposed to simply be an example of this over-baked wet dog album theory. But what makes the album worth listening to now? That was never explained.
Personally, I like Mute Witness, Our Frank, Driving Your Girlfriend Home, Tony the Pony and even Sing Your Life. I think those songs showed a good mixture of wit, theme, and genre. If anything, albums such as this may not be among an artist's best, but they fit in within the context and development of an artist's entire catalog. Case in point (for lack of a better example): Green Day's "Warning". Crtically panned as mid-tempo, middle-life crisis fluff, the album actually has some really great songs (Fashion Victim and Macy's Day Parade, among others) and also works as a transitional piece between the band's early days of three-chord thrash, to the more recent excellent albums that are very refined and intricate in scope and sound. Were Warning Green Day's last album, it would have seemed like they were a tired band, going through the motions. Just like if Kill Uncle were Morrissey's final work, it would have seemed like he quickly fizzled after the success of the Smiths. But, as an evolutionary piece, Kill Uncle really shows the PROCESS by which Morrissey has crafted his fine solo career (superior to the Smiths, IMO). So, growing pains and all, Kill Uncle is indeed an important record.
But, back to this article; the author discussed Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones more than he talked about Kill Uncle, which is disappointing because I was eager to hear some intelligent critical perspective - be it good, bad, or ugly -on what I think is an underappreciatted album, rather than just getting some metaphor about wet dogs.

 

[PregnantForTheLastTime]

I thought this was supposed to be at least an acquittal of Kill Uncle, if not a re-review.

It wasn't meant to be solely about Kill Uncle--check the title of the piece. "AND the Wet-Dog Theory." Kill Uncle being only one example of it.

The New Yorker doesn't really review single albums--certainly not Morrissey ones. Sasha's not that big a fan. They rarely even list his shows in the events sections (to be fair, they are usually sold out by the time the issue appears.)

 

[HandThatRocksTheCradle]

That would have been genuinely interesting. Boz: White Gretsch Falcon with vintage valve amp. Stand up bass and Pogues/Stray Cats drums. Recorded in 1 day like the Sun Sessions that both claim to be inspired by. And a neat echo of the live transformation of dud songs. But that would require something other than entirely conventional milking of an ageing audience, as hung up on former glories and nostalgia as Morrissey.

Nothing to stop him doing it in the next week or so and binning 'Kill Uncle's contribution to the remaster Loudness Wars. A totally pointless project which shows just how much Morrissey needs firm direction from an auteur, a producer and a P.R press team that keep the Salt Grindr 'best mt8 on the payroll' hidden from public view....some of the songs trapped inside 'Kill Uncle' deserved parole. It didn't happen. As with so many other things, a lazy, wasted opportunity from a lazy corporate rock whore: who is no longer the employee of a large music corporation...and can't understand how or why the world has moved on. "Kill Uncle-Unplugged: The Rockabilly Remixes". Make it so!

Oh, I've gone quite barmy on the idea!

 

[celibate]

Oh, I've gone quite barmy on the idea!

Beethoven was Deaf