Morrissey A-Z: "Sorrow Will Come in the End"

BookishBoy

Well-Known Member


Today's song is this Morrissey/Whyte composition from the Maladjusted album (although dropped by Island Records from the original UK release, for fear of legal trouble...).

What do we think?

(No A-Z entry tomorrow, by the way, but service will resume on Tuesday.)
 

Flibberty

Well-Known Member
I don't get precious about the subject matter for this one, but I wish it was a better song...

It's amusing if Morrissey really was so naive that when told that he might get sued if he sang the lyrics, he spoke them instead.

The production is incredibly cheap and is further proof that Steve Lillywhite should not have been used again. It is musically meritless and the lyrics are predictable and unimaginative.

Not much of a loss that it was cut from the U.K. album.

In the poll on the Hoffman board it ranked 261st from 264 solo songs.
 

Gregor Samsa

I straighten up, and my position is one of hope.
How does one comment on a “song” like this? It’s definitely one I can live without and one I never long to hear, but at the same time you have to love M’s audacity and gall to record a song like this. And it does have a few quotable lines!
 

CJM

Practising troublemaker
I doubt this is a popularly held opinion, but I think Sorrow Will Come In The End is a fantastic song. The seething loathing, acerbic bitterness and cutting delivery just draws me in. The theatrical carnivalesque music and cracking whip sound of the gavel seems to only strengthen Morrissey's eye opening and thoroughly entertaining vitriol. I find myself quoting this song far too much...

And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain.

A man who slits throats
Has time on his hands
And I'm gonna get you.


If somebody wrote such lyrics about me I would be somewhat perturbed.
 

Phranc & Open

two-timer
Mike knew, that Morrissey was only dreaming about being able to do such things. It's like that fake scars thing. Mike probably laughed.
 
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Janice

Well-Known Member
I hated this for years. Then later became spooked by it (not sure why- possibly the music) latter day, I do t actually mind it.
The passing of time…..
 

This Charming Bowie

Welcome to this knockabout world
For some reason, I used to listen to this a lot, and I don’t know why. Maybe because I see it as frivolous and fun, with the spoken word vocals more entertaining than threatening. The cheap strings grade, but some musical aspects are quite intriguing, such as the grand, circus waltz of the chorus(?). The lyrics...are similarly entertaining, despite the opposite message clearly wanting to be conveyed. So, an interesting one, this: a somewhat anomaly in Moz’s catalogue.
5/10
 

gordyboy9

rip roaring,free scoring,never boring, celtic.
dont really know what to make of this,so i wont.
5 oh no/10 oh no.
 

Mozmar

Well-Known Member
Have always liked this one, & @CJM sums it up very well.
To me, the carnivalesque/circus type music, which is very cleverly used here, together with the words being spoken, as opposed to being sung, just adds to the whole sinister, and dark, message of the piece. Again, it's very clever lyrically, & cutting generally, & one which only Moz could write. Maybe he wrote it just to get all the rising hatred & loathing out of his system. I seem to recall reading somewhere that Mike J, when asked for comment, said he found it funny. Don't ever close your eyes, Mike!
Marvellous.
 
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Flibberty

Well-Known Member
Have always liked this one, & @CJM sums it up very well.
To me, the carnivalesque/circus type music, which is very cleverly used here, together with the words being spoken as opposed to being sung, just adds to the whole sinister, and dark, message of the piece. Again, it's very clever lyrically, & cutting generally, & one which only Moz could write. Maybe he wrote it just to get all the rising hatred & loathing out of his system. I seem to recall reading somewhere that Mike J, when asked for comment, said he found it funny. Don't ever close your eyes, Mike!
Marvellous.
If that was his intention, it didn't exactly work too well. :LOL: He was still writing about the same subject more than a decade later...
 

Mozmar

Well-Known Member
If that was his intention, it didn't exactly work too well. :LOL: He was still writing about the same subject more than a decade later...
Yes indeed. Just shows how much the whole thing hurt him.
In the particular article cited (Diffuser), there's an additional quote, complete with tirade, from Moz on the subject...which of course continued into Autobiog some years later, as you allude to:

"Really, I'll never forgive him and to a lesser degree Andy, because it was horrific," Morrissey told Melody Maker in 1997. "I thought it was shocking, and if I was a weaker person or less intelligent, it would make me despise the Smiths and everything they stood for. And the judge was horrendous, and all the scrawly sniveling little extremely physically ugly people involved, who viewed me as some kind of anarchic, and semi-glamorous if you don't mind me saying, free spirit."
 
N

No 27

Guest
This song isn't very good. It's still better, though, than pretty much everything he's written since that time.

Regardless of the rights and wrongs of the court-case and Mike Joyce's lawsuit, I'm glad that it happened: it transformed Morrissey, for the remainder of his life, into the person he always deserved to be.
 

Ketamine Sun

HANG THEM HIGH VERONICA
Legalized theft
Leaves me bereft
I get it straight in the neck
(Somehow expecting no less)
A court of justice
With no use for truth
Lawyer...liar
Lawyer...liar
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you've won
But sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
Q.C.'s obsessed with sleaze
Frantic for fame
They're all on the game
They just use a different name
You lied
And you were believed
By a J.P. senile and vile
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you've won
But sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
So don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes
A man who slits throats
Has time on his hands
And I'm gonna get you
So don't close your eyes
Don't ever close your eyes
You think you've won
Oh no



:cool:


According to Marr .....

“ Mike Joyce had served a writ against Morrissey and me, claiming that he was a partner in The Smiths and because there was no agreement to say otherwise he was an equal partner. This was based on the Partnership Act of 1890, which says that unless there is a clear agreement all partnerships are equal; he was therefore entitled to an equal share of the band’s recording and live earnings. Andy was part of this action too, but he settled and agreed to take 10 per cent in the future. My position was that Mike had agreed to 10 per cent of the band’s earnings when the band decided the splits on a very emotional day in Pluto Studios in 1983. Mike argued that he never knew what the splits were, and as it had never been written down and signed, he was entitled to 25 per cent of the profits. It turned out in the evidence at trial that, through our disorganisation, the splits had not been consistent. It seemed odd to me that you could be in a band with three other people for five years and not know what everyone’s splits were; no one had disputed or rejected the finances at any time during the five years when the band was together.

The Smiths as a band were not equal. People might want to think otherwise, but anyone who was around us in any capacity would tell you that The Smiths were not a band of equals. Morrissey and I formed it, and apart from the first year when Joe was with us we managed it, and usually managers take 20 per cent of a band’s income before the band members take their share. We had the legal obligations and the responsibilities, and it was our names on the contracts. We hired everyone and fired everyone, and we ran everything with the record company. Morrissey did all the artwork and I produced most of the records. It would be nice to think that we all did as much as each other, but we didn’t, and in that respect it was more like The Kinks, or Kraftwerk, where the two founder members are in charge.It’s that way in many other bands, and that’s how it was in The Smiths. If Mike Joyce wasn’t happy with a 10 per cent share, he should have walked. He should have said, ‘I’m not happy about this, get another drummer.’

I was surprised by the legal action, but I wasn’t hurt by it.


The Smiths met up again in the High Court. I bumped into Morrissey outside the building as we went in, and as surreal as the situation was I was pleased to see him. Then I saw Mike and Andy, which was difficult. I didn’t know how to feel. Andy looked shell-shocked and Mike was very friendly. We took our places in an empty courtroom and waited for whatever was going to happen.

The people I was with at the court – my manager, barrister and his assistant – were standing next to me, but I thought they were all useless – not because I didn’t like them but because they were all outsiders. They weren’t there when The Smiths were together. They weren’t there when me and Morrissey spent every day chasing up people to do our first demos. They weren’t there in the dressing rooms backstage.They weren’t there when we worked together on the records, and they weren’t there when the band discussed money.

The Fleet Street reporters scurried in and scribbled in their notebooks before proceedings even began, checking every flickering eye movement and scrutinising body language for anything that could be interpreted as drama.

When Morrissey took the stand, it was uncomfortable from the word go. He argued with the judge, who was surly and pompous, and at one point Morrissey lost his temper and walked off the stand in frustration. Mike’s barrister made sure he planted a few bombs for the court and the media by putting it to Morrissey that he regarded his bandmates as ‘replaceable as parts on a lawnmower’. I watched the reporters as they devoured that phrase and scribbled it down, and a couple of them exited to phone their editor – job done, now everyone had ‘the angle’. The phrase became assimilated into the newspaper reports and then the proceedings as if it had been said by Morrissey
which it hadn’t: Mike’s barrister had planted it. He knew exactly what he was doing and it worked.The judge fell for it, and the press fell for it, then the public fell for it.

I watched the bullshit and it was like being bound and gagged while everyone threw dirt around. For the band to be wrung out like this and put in such a lowly position was degrading, not only because we were arguing over money, but because to me The Smiths were too cool to end up like that. I’d tried to find a way to settle it without having to go to court, but I couldn’t achieve a settlement on my own. With each minute I grew more and more disdainful of the whole thing. I didn’t respect anyone on either side, including my own. I envisaged the barristers and lawyers sitting around together after the day’s hearing, scoring points and exchanging quips about how each other had done. To them it was all in a day’s work, and we were just rock stars with unlimited amounts of money that we’d acquired easily in the fame game.They couldn’t imagine they were desecrating someone’s dream; to them it was ‘just business’. Having to listen to the story of The Smiths told in such twisted terms by cunning cronies with no understanding of what a band is about was galling and grotesque.Every bit of love the band had for what it did and for each other was extinguished and interpreted in the worst possible light until there was nothing left.

All four members of the band were called to the stand. I knew there was no point in trying to be clever, and by then I was under no illusions that Morrissey and I might win. I just answered as directly as I could, without letting Mike’s barrister succeed in winding me up. I’d been forced to go to court, and I decided that whatever happened I was going to speak up for myself and get the satisfaction of putting a few things straight. At least that way I’d have no regrets and I could walk out of there my own man.

When the judge ruled in Mike’s favour, he made a point of sticking it to me and particularly to Morrissey, who he really didn’t like, making remarks about him that were personal and fairly shocking. As well as giving Mike everything he’d asked for, he also ruled that Morrissey and I pay for Mike’s legal costs, which for the previous seven years had already been paid for by legal aid.”


poor little rich Joyce :(
 
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Mozmar

Well-Known Member
Legalized theft
Leaves me bereft
I get it straight in the neck
(Somehow expecting no less)
A court of justice
With no use for truth
Lawyer...liar
Lawyer...liar
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you've won
But sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
Q.C.'s obsessed with sleaze
Frantic for fame
They're all on the game
They just use a different name
You lied
And you were believed
By a J.P. senile and vile
You pleaded and squealed
And you think you've won
But sorrow will come
To you in the end
And as sure as my words are pure
I praise the day that brings you pain
So don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes
A man who slits throats
Has time on his hands
And I'm gonna get you
So don't close your eyes
Don't ever close your eyes
You think you've won
Oh no



:cool:


According to Marr .....

“ Mike Joyce had served a writ against Morrissey and me, claiming that he was a partner in The Smiths and because there was no agreement to say otherwise he was an equal partner. This was based on the Partnership Act of 1890, which says that unless there is a clear agreement all partnerships are equal; he was therefore entitled to an equal share of the band’s recording and live earnings. Andy was part of this action too, but he settled and agreed to take 10 per cent in the future. My position was that Mike had agreed to 10 per cent of the band’s earnings when the band decided the splits on a very emotional day in Pluto Studios in 1983. Mike argued that he never knew what the splits were, and as it had never been written down and signed, he was entitled to 25 per cent of the profits. It turned out in the evidence at trial that, through our disorganisation, the splits had not been consistent. It seemed odd to me that you could be in a band with three other people for five years and not know what everyone’s splits were; no one had disputed or rejected the finances at any time during the five years when the band was together.

The Smiths as a band were not equal. People might want to think otherwise, but anyone who was around us in any capacity would tell you that The Smiths were not a band of equals. Morrissey and I formed it, and apart from the first year when Joe was with us we managed it, and usually managers take 20 per cent of a band’s income before the band members take their share. We had the legal obligations and the responsibilities, and it was our names on the contracts. We hired everyone and fired everyone, and we ran everything with the record company. Morrissey did all the artwork and I produced most of the records. It would be nice to think that we all did as much as each other, but we didn’t, and in that respect it was more like The Kinks, or Kraftwerk, where the two founder members are in charge.It’s that way in many other bands, and that’s how it was in The Smiths. If Mike Joyce wasn’t happy with a 10 per cent share, he should have walked. He should have said, ‘I’m not happy about this, get another drummer.’

I was surprised by the legal action, but I wasn’t hurt by it.


The Smiths met up again in the High Court. I bumped into Morrissey outside the building as we went in, and as surreal as the situation was I was pleased to see him. Then I saw Mike and Andy, which was difficult. I didn’t know how to feel. Andy looked shell-shocked and Mike was very friendly. We took our places in an empty courtroom and waited for whatever was going to happen.

The people I was with at the court – my manager, barrister and his assistant – were standing next to me, but I thought they were all useless – not because I didn’t like them but because they were all outsiders. They weren’t there when The Smiths were together. They weren’t there when me and Morrissey spent every day chasing up people to do our first demos. They weren’t there in the dressing rooms backstage.They weren’t there when we worked together on the records, and they weren’t there when the band discussed money.

The Fleet Street reporters scurried in and scribbled in their notebooks before proceedings even began, checking every flickering eye movement and scrutinising body language for anything that could be interpreted as drama.

When Morrissey took the stand, it was uncomfortable from the word go. He argued with the judge, who was surly and pompous, and at one point Morrissey lost his temper and walked off the stand in frustration. Mike’s barrister made sure he planted a few bombs for the court and the media by putting it to Morrissey that he regarded his bandmates as ‘replaceable as parts on a lawnmower’. I watched the reporters as they devoured that phrase and scribbled it down, and a couple of them exited to phone their editor – job done, now everyone had ‘the angle’. The phrase became assimilated into the newspaper reports and then the proceedings as if it had been said by Morrissey
which it hadn’t: Mike’s barrister had planted it. He knew exactly what he was doing and it worked.The judge fell for it, and the press fell for it, then the public fell for it.

I watched the bullshit and it was like being bound and gagged while everyone threw dirt around. For the band to be wrung out like this and put in such a lowly position was degrading, not only because we were arguing over money, but because to me The Smiths were too cool to end up like that. I’d tried to find a way to settle it without having to go to court, but I couldn’t achieve a settlement on my own. With each minute I grew more and more disdainful of the whole thing. I didn’t respect anyone on either side, including my own. I envisaged the barristers and lawyers sitting around together after the day’s hearing, scoring points and exchanging quips about how each other had done. To them it was all in a day’s work, and we were just rock stars with unlimited amounts of money that we’d acquired easily in the fame game.They couldn’t imagine they were desecrating someone’s dream; to them it was ‘just business’. Having to listen to the story of The Smiths told in such twisted terms by cunning cronies with no understanding of what a band is about was galling and grotesque.Every bit of love the band had for what it did and for each other was extinguished and interpreted in the worst possible light until there was nothing left.

All four members of the band were called to the stand. I knew there was no point in trying to be clever, and by then I was under no illusions that Morrissey and I might win. I just answered as directly as I could, without letting Mike’s barrister succeed in winding me up. I’d been forced to go to court, and I decided that whatever happened I was going to speak up for myself and get the satisfaction of putting a few things straight. At least that way I’d have no regrets and I could walk out of there my own man.

When the judge ruled in Mike’s favour, he made a point of sticking it to me and particularly to Morrissey, who he really didn’t like, making remarks about him that were personal and fairly shocking. As well as giving Mike everything he’d asked for, he also ruled that Morrissey and I pay for Mike’s legal costs, which for the previous seven years had already been paid for by legal aid.”


poor little rich Joyce :(
"In the tiredness of stale and over-long cross-examinations, Johnny finally caves in and appears suddenly agreeable to any discredit lobbed my way, just as long as he can be let out of that damned witness box. He will, by now, apparently say almost anything at all in order to stay free, and seems willing to push anyone into the water in order to save himself."

"There is not one friendly face, nor one shrug of sympathy towards me from the lines of predators seated with such propriety on the benches. I am entirely and utterly alone. Marr has neatly edged his way over the dividing line, and is safely tucked away as everyone’s friend – yet no one’s."


Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before...
 

Ketamine Sun

HANG THEM HIGH VERONICA
"In the tiredness of stale and over-long cross-examinations, Johnny finally caves in and appears suddenly agreeable to any discredit lobbed my way, just as long as he can be let out of that damned witness box. He will, by now, apparently say almost anything at all in order to stay free, and seems willing to push anyone into the water in order to save himself."

Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before...

Yes, Morrissey felt betrayed, but Marr is only human. Such a sad event. But we must thank Joyce for that Smiths ‘reunion’.

🤑 £:(
 
V

Vegan Cro Spirit .777

Guest
:)
great anti lawnmower moz masterpiece:hammer:
many years later non have jobs and worse, :handpointright::guardsman::handpointleft:
is making opening 'sets':lbf:
for docile toddler suco groups:hammer:
 

Mayfly

Well-Known Member
I think the song was one of those impulsive outburt, the words are unmistakenly Morrissey’s.
I have no strong opinion on the spoken words, but I don’t enjoy the music. Some other posts aptly used the words carnivalesque and circus waltz to describe it, :) and it feels like Morrissey was just taking the piss at the entier court case.

Yes, he was still singing about the court case on YATQ seven years later, but the tunes were much better.
 
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