When the Swedish Academy announced its decision to award Bob Dylan the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016 “for having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition,” it sent ripples through the writing community. While many among the clerisy criticised the committee for overlooking conventional writers and awarding the coveted prize to a songwriter, the choice was applauded by various authors, poets, and songwriters. “From Orpheus to Faiz, songwriting and poetry have been closely linked. Dylan is the brilliant inheritor of the bardic tradition. Great choice.”, Salman Rushdie tweeted in support of the selection.
The boundary between poetry and songwriting has always been a difficult one to draw. Historically, the two have existed and flourished in conjunction. But the emergence and acceptance of contemporary music as an art form has also led to a divide. The standard distinction is that poetry exists as an independent identity, whereas lyrical meanings are inherently bound to the music they accompany.
But every now and then, a skilful songwriter blurs these lines by crafting lyrics that are as poetic as poems go. Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Leonard Cohen, Patti Smith, and Jim Morrison are celebrated as some of the most brilliant poet songwriters ever to grace the music industry. But one name which is often found missing on these lists is that of Morrissey, the lead vocalist and lyricist of the British indie rock band The Smiths.
It is not without reason that Morrissey fails to feature on such lists. His songwriting is nowhere as influential as Lennon’s, nor does he possess the diverse range of Dylan or a surreal vision like Morrison. Morrissey’s style is too unique to be influential; his range is restricted to particular themes; and he relies on wit and humour, rather than a vivid imagination, to capture the listener’s attention. But, even with the recurring themes and limited tools in his repertoire, Morrissey manages to weave magic into words in a way no one else can.
This article takes an in-depth look at the poetic qualities found in The Smiths’ songwriting while also sporadically delving into the sonic aspects of their music whenever required.
The first step towards becoming a good writer is to read. Morrissey is a very well-read songwriter. His lyrics are abundant in literary references. Many of his songs directly reference famous works and authors, a notable example being the song Shakespeare’s Sister, inspired by a Virginia Woolf essay. Morrissey is also known to lift popular phrases from books and use them as lyrics. For example, “I am the son and the heir, of nothing in particular” from the song How Soon Is Now is adapted from George Elliot’s Middlemarch.
Cemetry Gates is perhaps the best example to showcase Morrissey’s literary knowledge. The song features a confrontation between two poets, Morrissey and his friend. It presents a scathing criticism of the Romantic Poetry movement spearheaded by John Keats and William Yeats, while also commenting on the issue of plagiarism in writing. The lyrics also reference Oscar Wilde as a direct inspiration behind Morrissey’s songwriting.
Wilde’s influence on Morrissey’s style cannot be understated. Dark and absurd themes, coupled with witty lines and a biting sense of humour, a characteristic trait of many of The Smiths’ songs, directly result from this influence. But perhaps the most direct impact can be observed in Morrissey’s use of witty epigrams, something which Wilde is best remembered for. A brilliant example of this is Morrissey questioning whether sexuality is a choice by asking, “Does the body rule the mind, or does the mind rule the body?” in the song Still ill.
But Morrissey didn’t just adapt Wilde’s qualities into his songwriting; he created a unique style using them. Melancholic themes of depression and loneliness, occasional political and social commentary, intelligent wordplay, literary and historical references, scathing sarcasm, caustic humour, and a tendency for self-deprecation became a trademark of Morrissey’s lyrics. And although The Smiths were often (and quite wrongly) labelled as just “miserabilists”, Morrissey’s ingenious lyricism ensured that the songs always felt fresh.
The primary trait which differentiates The Smiths from their contemporaries is their wit and sense of humour. The Smiths are probably the only artists who can make you laugh out loud while singing about depression. Morrissey uses literary techniques and devices to significant effect to achieve this.
He is a master of creating ironic contrasts, often to humorous effects. This is apparent in songs like The Queen Is Dead and Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others. In the former, it takes place in the form of a conversation with the monarch, with Morrissey drawing a contrast between the priorities of a commoner (“like love, and law, and poverty”) and the royalty (“the rain that flattens my hair”). The controversial Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others is a song about mankind’s obsession with women’s figures and sizes. By writing, “As Anthony said to Cleopatra, Oh I say: Some girls are bigger than others,” Morrissey mocks how all men throughout history have been the same.
Levity
The Smiths and Literature
This also highlights Morrissey’s general tendency of blowing petty subject matters up to epic proportions by using historical references. This concept is hilariously exploited in Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now when he comments on his partner’s perversive traits by singing, “What she asked of me at the end of the day, Caligula would have blushed.” (Caligula was a Roman emperor famous for being a tyrant and a sexual predator).
Similarly, in Bigmouth Strikes Again, a song about Morrisey’s controversial statements and their repercussions, he likens himself to the Hundred Years’ War martyr Joan of Arc, sarcastically indicating that his statements are divinely inspired just like Joan’s actions. The song’s first verse is a testimony to Morrissey’s guts as well as his ability to write stinging sarcasm. For who else but The Smiths would have the gall to open a lead album single with the verse:
But the ironic themes and contrasts are not only limited to the songwriting. The song Girlfriend In a Coma is a brilliant example where the sound perfectly complements the lyrical theme. As the title suggests, the song is written from the perspective of a man who is on the verge of losing his partner. In his typical tongue in cheek writing style, Morrissey ironically remarks that “there were times when I could have murdered her (but you know, I would hate anything to happen to her)”. Johnny Marr, the lead guitarist, plays a happy and cheery riff in the background, while Morrissey croons about the possible loss of his partner. The juxtaposition of the morbid theme with the merry music creates a perfect (and almost comical) contrast. Another thing of note, although not precisely relevant to the topic, is how Morrissey’s vocal expressions subtly change and lend different meanings to repeated verses throughout the song. Morrissey’s vocal ability is something that can invite comprehensive analysis as well, but I’ll leave that for some other day.
Another poetic aspect of Morrissey’s witty songwriting is his intelligent wordplay. Whether its puns (“gravely reading the stones” in Cemetry Gates; “flatulent pain in the arse” in Frankly, Mr Shankly), or double entendre (“you can pin and mount me, like a butterfly.” in Reel Around The Fountain), or hypallage (“Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate” in This Charming Man), Morrissey’s lyrics are abundant with examples of his clever wordings.
Gravity
But it’s not just humour and wit where Morrissey excels. In fact, some of the most beautiful moments in The Smiths’ discography occur when they drop the witticism in favour of naked poetry. Examples of such songs include the suicidal lullaby Asleep, the “carpe diem” themed singalong Ask, and the delicate plea Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want. Swarming with simplistic yet beautiful phrasings, these pieces address the themes with a bluntness that feels almost atypical of The Smiths. But the directness allows Morrissey the poet to connect to the listener more heartily, making these songs feel highly personal, a quality that makes them fan favourites.
Perhaps the most quintessential example of this style comes from the two crowning jewels of their 1986 masterpiece album, The Queen Is Dead. I Know It’s Over and There Is a Light That Never Goes Out are easily two of the most hauntingly beautiful tracks ever composed by a rock band. The pair of romantic songs explore different sides of love: the former is a heartbreaking account of loneliness following the end of a relationship which never blossomed, while the latter is a hopeful ballad outlining the ecstasy of a potential love affair.
I Know It’s Over has Morrissey at his poetic best. The song underscores some of his best lyrical qualities. Morrissey has always been great with setting the tone and texture of a song through the opening lines. “In a river, the colour of lead” (from This Night Has Opened My Eyes) aptly creates a grim tone for ghastly acts that follow. “Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate” (from This Charming Man) brilliantly paints a picture of the protagonist, deflated, alone. But I Know It’s Over has arguably the best opening line among all The Smiths’ songs. “Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head, as I climb into an empty bed” is as powerful a description of suicidal depression as you can imagine. The despair which overpowers the protagonist as he steps into his metaphorical grave sets the stage perfectly for the rest of the song. The strong opening is followed by an equally poetic verse. “See, the sea wants to take me, the knife wants to slit me” reflects a brilliant use of personification to capture the protagonist’s suicidal thoughts. From the typical self-lacerations to a surprisingly graceful confession towards the end, the songwriting in I Know It’s Over certainly witnesses Morrissey the poet at his peak.
And then there is There Is A Light That Never Goes Out, the magnum opus of The Smiths’ discography. It is one of the rare instances in Rock music when an artist’s most famous work is also their best one. The song is a union of everything The Smiths stand for: Morrissey’s unique baritone, his ingenious lyricism, and Marr’s unreal guitar skills. The amalgamation of the two aspects of Morrissey’s lyrical style is distinctly observable here. Although the lyrics dangerously stutter around the gravity-levity boundary, with the somewhat comical descriptions of getting crushed by a double-decker bus or a ten-tonne truck in the chorus, Morrissey manages to balance it out through genuine and sincere confessions in the verses.
Conclusion
In the short span of 5 years and 4 albums, The Smiths went from minnows to one of the greatest bands of all time, all the while staying true to their original sound and style. Few other artists can speak to the teenage existential angst in the manner The Smiths do. Morrissey’s brilliant and genius songwriting is an essential part of their legacy. In the song Frankly, Mr Shankly, the bard of Manchester cheekily remarks, “I want to go down in musical history.” Well, he sure did.