Morrissey Interviewed By Jaan Uhelszki
SOMA Magazine, December, 2000



"THE SMITHS WERE A GROUP AND A SOUND AND A LOOK AND A MEANING THAT HAD NO TIES TO ANYTHING AT ALL THAT HAD PREVIOUSLY HAPPENED."

Once, he was the bespectacled singer of archetypal British guitar band The Smiths; now he's living in Los Angeles and shopping for a label. Morrissey ruminates on his former groups legacy, coming to terms with the past, and selling out the Hollywood Bowl faster than anyone else.

Can we talk about what you're doing now in terms of your career?
That will be a very brief conversation. I'm looking for a deal. I don't have a deal, and I haven't had a deal since Mercury collapsed two-and-a-half years ago. So, I'm searching. And I'm open and free and available—not free, but I'm available.

Do you think Britpop filled the vacuum left by The Smiths?
Yes, well, I think that was because when The Smiths began, there really wasn't independent or alternative music. I mean, independent was the English word and alternative was the American word. Yes, it did exist, but it wasn't in, as we say in England, high street shops. It wasn't in the high street chains, and The Smiths brought it—they were the first independent group to put music into places like Woolworth's and W. H. Smith and all the big, boring conglomerates. But suddenly, in the late '80s, everybody tried to be independent and alternative, and it just became such a terrible cliché.

Was there a pinnacle moment with The Smiths?
Well, it was always a victory with The Smiths, although we were never accepted by the American press—which was very, very difficult because we did extraordinarily well considering what we came from and that we had zero finances behind us. I mean, if anybody these days with no financial backing can do well, it's an absolute miracle. I mean, it doesn't actually really happen anymore. But with The Smiths, every day a small barrier was breaking down. And there was extreme resistance to us in England because we were independent and we were shabby and we were poor and we didn't play any game at all. But the fact that we none the less won, it's incredible.

Did The Smiths change the world?
I think we did completely. I think we changed lots of things because, if you remember the start of the '80s, if you remember the accepted sound of pop music, well, The Smiths were not a part of that. And The Smiths made music which sounded very affordable to people. And I'm afraid, perhaps, it was tied in with the whole punk ethic, you know—the boring expression that everybody can do it. And I think that really did inspire lots of people because at the time, everything was so overbearingly glittery, overbearingly rich, and very conservative. The Smiths were a group and a sound and a look and a meaning that had no ties to anything at all that had previously happened.

Can you make peace with your former self?
I'd have no wish to meet that person. I'd be down the fire escape before you could sound the alarm bells.

You can't say that.
I have. I just said it.

Will you and Johnny Marr ever reconcile your differences?
Too much has happened, really, and, in actual truth, we don't actually like each other.

What do you think your role is today, because you really are like a figurehead and mean so much to so many people?
You know, my position has never really changed. I mean, people talk about The Smiths and the solo years, but they really have been the same in many regards because I've never been accepted by the music industry. I've never been a part of anything. I've never been invited to take part in VH1 or MTV, which is extraordinary. I have had very significant minor achievements; I still hold the record for selling out the Hollywood Bowl faster than anybody else.

How do you like America? I always found LA a little too bright.
That's the main reason why I like it. I like the brightness. I find it very uplifting. Even though I don't go out and I don't mix with people—which in LA is, believe me, a survival instinct.

What is the biggest misconception about you?
That I'm unpleasant. I think people—there seems to be some small reputation that goes around that I'm argumentative and strutting and violent. I'm the most gentle person in the universe. So it's quite baffling. But, you know, once those little reputations are passed around, they become the truth in some ways.

This article was unceremoniously swiped from Morrissey-Solo.