Editor's Note: We sent music editor Brett Warner to cover Morrissey's concert in Flint, Michigan last night. Alas, due to "band illness," Morrissey was forced to postpone his Minneapolis (tonight, January 25) and Chicago (tomorrow night) dates… and outright cancel last night's Flint stop. Since no one except our editor wound up showing up… there's no one to refute that the following once-in-a-lifetime Morrissey concert didn't happen… per se. Let's just say you'll probably wish you were there.
I'd seen Morrissey in concert once before… late in 2011, at a more-than-memorable stop in Royal Oak, MI… but nothing prepared me for last night's beyond-religious rock 'n' roll experience. For one thing, the show was technically canceled… so it was more like a one-man-audience type thing rather than a traditional concert. But Morrissey and his ace backup band (who all looked more than a little under the weather… I thought I spotted Boz Boorer chugging an off-brand bottle of Dayquil at one point) were good sports and decided to perform their show as planned… with a slightly amended set list.
Previously… Morrissey Returns, Delivers "Action Is My Middle Name" On 'Letterman'
"It's too bad these poor buggers had to catch the sniffles," Morrissey lamented after a rousing opening run through new song "Action Is My Middle Name," adding: "I was planning on switching up the set a bit tonight." The band proceeded to play The Smiths' 1986 masterpiece The Queen Is Dead in its entirety, followed by the greatest renditions of "Hairdresser On Fire," "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get" and "Glamorous Glue" I've ever heard. About halfway through the show, guitarist Jesse Tobias went into a flu-induced coma and was carried off stage by roadies dressed like James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause. "Without our second guitarist, I'm afraid we'll truly have to call off the show," Morrissey bemoaned sadly… well, extra-sadly.
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"I used to play guitar a bit," a friendly Manchester accent said quietly from the back. We all turned to find The Smiths' Johnny Marr, cleaning a glass tumbler behind the bar, wearing a vest and slightly askew red bow tie. "Think I could maybe jump in?" Turning to his band, who all shrugged in the affirmative, Morrissey then invited Johnny Marr onstage to join them in performing the rest of The Smiths' discography, including Hatful Of Hollow and Louder Than Bombs. ("What Difference Does It Make?" was better the second time around.) As the final notes of "I Won't Share You" faded away, Morrissey turned to the crowd (i.e. me) and explained, "Well, this is the part of the show where we usually play "Meat Is Murder" and I go off and take a cat nap whilst horrifying the crowd with images of animal cruelty, but unfortunately the animal cruelty film has also come down with the flu, so would it be forgivable if instead, I went backstage for a tick and healed Jessie with the palm of my hand so that we might perform Bona Drag in its entirety instead?"
And so they did, with Johnny Marr lending ingenious guitar finesse to the 1990 compilation. (At one point, I could've sworn Marr lent over and whispered to Morrissey, "You know, I always liked your solo stuff better," to which Morrissey responded, "I'm so totally going to tweet that later"… at least that's what I think he said). At this point it was well into the weekend, so with apologies, the band performed "How Soon Is Now?" twelve times in a row… "N***as In Paris" style… and said goodnight. As the lights came up, I exercised that time-honored tradition of climbing up on stage, throwing my arms around my hero and telling him: "I can't believe this is happening."
"It isn't," he responded. "So remove your hand from my pocket. Also, next time I have to cancel a concert and you have tickets, you should probably just take solace in the fact that you'll be getting your money back and not drink an entire bottle of windshield washer fluid behind Murray's Auto Parts."
"You've got it, Morrissey," I replied, my eyes suddenly very heavy, as the EMT crew loaded my pale, limp body into the ambulance. Out the little window, I could swear I saw Morrissey… and David Bowie… and the ghost of John Steinbeck… all waving goodbye. "Farewell, my friends," I attempted to whisper, although I think I just vomited toxic blue chemical all over my clothes instead. "Thanks for the greatest concert ever!" (Did I mention that Morrissey's drummer transformed into a dolphin halfway through the set… and that just before the coda of "Do Your Best And Don't Worry" I suddenly understood what really happens when we die. Easily one of the best concerts I've ever been to… maybe a distant second behind Radiohead last year.)
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