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Mexico City, Mexico (Mar. 24, 2000)

Nothing to declare except....

Posted By: Saul <[email protected]>
Date: Sunday, Mar. 26 2000, at 9:51 a.m.

Written in English for the sake of those, abroad or beyond, who were not there with us last night.

It was long overdue. And I am not alone. Back in the 80's, I can almost swear there were more Smiths fans in Mexico than in the US... And is it really so strange? I was here, and there. Opposites do attract.

I, for one, became a Smiths fan in 1986. I remember the first time I ever heard their music. I could even point out the exact date if I was forced to. was my initiation. Never before had I felt so touched. Never again by anyone else's music, perhaps only by Tindersticks, seven years later.

Fourteen years elapsed since I was enlightened, fourteen years to finally be able to see Morrissey live at a gig.

I was lucky enough to have lived in London twice. 1989 and 1994. During my time there Moz didn't tour. Or did he? Nevertheless, I still bought all of his albums. I own the whole Smiths discography, compilations, all of his solo recordings, bootlegs, Japanese imports, videos, NME, Melody Maker, Uncut, Spin, diverse printed matter (UK, USA, Mexico, Spain, Belgium), The Complete Picture, The Severed Alliance...

Enough.

Bloody 'ell, who cares about the past. Here's what happened on 24th March 2000. For some reason I have yet to elucidate, I was flying back from Paris the same day, a @#!!!ing twelve hour flight. I arrived at Mexico City, my home town, three hours before the show was to start, local time (though I must confess I had bought tickets a month in advance). All said, I wasn't given the luxory to have jet lag.

Moz came on stage with a loud HOLAAAAAAAAAAAA. First word he uttered. It was incredible to see him in my home town, after all those years... AND CLAD IN CHARRO OUTFIT!!!! Charro is the quintessential Mexican custome, for those of you unversed. In the audience there were also a few European faces. A bloke from Exeter was on the first row and was given a chance to speak up. Why?

And there were some daffodils as well.

He did speak some Spanish.... erm, HOLAAAAAAA, Gracias, Mañana (Tomorrow, song of same title); Mexico, Guadalajara... He claimed for oxigen, as Mexico City is 2400 meters above sea level and the air is thin, plus pullution and fags.... you must realise this is still a smoking nation (like Spain and France and unlike the US)... And the set was odd, sad, magnificent and loud. I loved Boxers, Alma Matters, I Am Hated For Loving, Half A Person, Shoplifters... and missed PREGNANT FOR THE LAST TIME, LAST OF THE FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOYS, EVERYDAY IS LIKE SUNDAY and CERTAIN PEOPLE I KNOW.

Backdrops were great. People cried. Weed was smoked. I went home to get over the jet lag. I played a couple of songs from My Early Burglary Years and retrieved to bed. Fourteen years had come to an end. Nothing to declare except my jeans.

Gracias, Esteban.
Saúl.

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