The Fascinating Turnip

I should really rethink my definition of "soonish".

I apologise, here is the review for Meat Is Murder:


As the album begins we're introduced to The Headmaster Ritual's loud combination of rattling drums and guitars which make for a fantastic full, jangly sound that send you into a sort of soothing reverie, which coupled with Morrissey's hypnotizing wailings creates something rather unique.
This is a song that genuinely makes one feel like he's admidst it, not just idly giving it a listen. It immerses you in this sea of sound, and I always picture myself in a cold misty morning when I listen to this. In a way, it creates a certain atmosphere.

The lyrics are obviously harsh criticism directed at the cruelty of Manchester's educational system, but, in a wider sense, it could refer to education in general. Who wouldn't relate to such feelings?


This is again interesting as it shows how Morrissey can utter rather spiteful, vindictive lyrics and still manage being rather charming and showing how vulnerable the subject makes him feel in his way of going about it, perhaps due to his voice and mordant wit.

Rusholme Ruffians is the first half of a couple of rather fun songs that rear their head amidst some rather baffling ones.
Following the intensity of The Headmaster Ritual, it reveals a quite significant change in sound.

This same sound and, of course, the lyrics place us in a rather violent, gaudy, vulgar place, with references to greasy hairdo's, ferris wheels and stabbings.
In a way this is rather common with some The Smiths' tracks, like Still Ill "Under the iron bridge we kissed" and some others I'll mention later on: the insertion of a vulnerable soul in a rather harsh and dodgy environment, which has everything to do with Morrissey's upbringing in working-class, industrial Manchester. What makes this track stand out is the fact that the lyrics and the sound are all rather grotesque and carnivalesque

“The last night of the fair
By the big wheel generator
A boy is stabbed
And his money is grabbed
And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine

She is Famous
She is Funny
An engagement ring
Doesn't mean a thing
To a mind consumed by brass (money)


And though I walk home alone
I might walk home alone ...
...But my faith in love is still devout


The last night of the fair
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)
From a seat on a whirling waltzer
Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)

(...)

Then someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
Someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine
And someone falls in love
And someone's beaten up
And the senses being dulled are mine

(..)

This is the last night of the fair
And the grease in the hair
Of a speedway operator
Is all a tremulous heart requires
A schoolgirl is denied
She said : "How quickly would I die
If I jumped from the top of the parachutes ?"
La ...

(...)


So ... scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
(This means you really love me)

(...)

And though I walk home alone
I just might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
I might walk home alone
But my faith in love is still devout
La ...”

The fact that everything is rather gruesome and the subject of interest is vulnerable makes that particular trait stand out even more.

Other excerpts like “scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen: this means you really love me” also suggest that there’s a certain obliviously brutish way of acting upon one’s feelings.

I Want The One I Can’t Have is rather catchy, it would be only natural for one to find himself randomly singing “I want the one I can’t have, and it’s driving me mad, it’s all over all over all over my face”. I must admit that a lot of small snippets from this song’s lyrics popped into my head now and then, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember what song it was. I wouldn’t call it a favourite, but it’s nothing to scoff at, and it might just become one:



I’d like to highlight this particular segment:


He’s at it again!
The alley by the railway station, just like the iron bridge from Still Ill, add that enthralling contrast which fascinates me.

What She Said basically kicks you in the face with some fantastic, speedy guitar work, courtesy of Mr. Marr. I don't know what came over the man, but he seems absolutely possessed. Fantastic delivery; a loud outburst of sheer energy:


Contrasting with the aforementioned guitar work is this bit of writing: The lyrics are obviously about a deeply depressed woman who finds no pleasure in life and quite frankly feels it’s already left her. She used to read about life instead of really living it, which is the only way to really understand reality. Whe she did start living, her experiences weren’t too pleasant, and life as she discovered it to be didn’t particularly appeal to her. All of this and more is rather phenomenally portrayed in one of the album's shortest songs.

...