Morrissey has definitely entered a new phase. For me, the "non-sung" aspect eclipses the music of it (though a few high points persist, such as The Girl from Tel-Aviv and Staircase at the University: "and if you breaks your legs then don't come running to me" is as fine as anything from 1984 or 85). I thought Autobiography revealed Morrissey as not only the greatest lyricist and singer of his age, but the greatest writer as well. List of the Lost confirmed it. And the interviews are more daring than ever: the tone is, if possible, even more heedless and combative; the utterances absolutely godlike.
Maybe he's separating the wheat from the chaff. The angry contingent of horrified former fans condemning him as racist verges on glorious (since many of them are bigger Nazis than Morrissey could ever be on account of their smug and blithe meat consumption). It's like when you watch one of those "creature feature" disaster movies, and you see all the panicked people shrieking in the streets—their comfortable lives upended! That's actually enjoyable. I always rooted for Godzilla or King Kong over the humans. Their rampages were magnificent. And I will always side with Morrissey, who at this point is clearly incapable of mortal misstep. Plus, he looks like a Russian mobster (also magnificent). We never would've thought thirty years ago that he might be improved by middle age and some heft—and yet. Those eyebrows were made for graying hair and a gentle tan. Rampage away, thou coolest person ever.
The new fans, if they're in it for the new music, then I guess I'm a little perplexed. But if they're in it for everything, then I completely understand.