Morrissey, London O2 Arena - gig review: Expectedly angry and woeful
There can't be many musicians that have a following as loyal as Morrissey
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Morrissey was in such a 'good mood' at his first UK show since 2012 that he ripped off his shirt and hurled it into his audience as his grand finale, an act so fantastically dramatic and untamed Stanley Kowalski would have been intimidated.
His gig was as expectedly angry and woeful as fans could have hoped. Each band member wore a "F*** Harvest Records" T-shirt - an unambiguous reference to his recent parting with his record label. A near fight broke out between security and fans as they crowd-surfed to the barriers and threw themselves over in order to clutch the hand of their hero.
There can't be many musicians that have a following as loyal as Morrissey, a leader for all who are lost, angry and disenchanted; a poetic voice for those unable to articulate their discontent.
He focused largely on new album World Peace Is None Of Your Business, including the dramatic "Scandinavia", "Kiss Me A Lot" and "Istanbul". Among most warmly received were "I'm Not A Man" and his finale, the classic "Everyday Is Like Sunday". For the majority of his 90-minute set, he admirably appeared as if his dog had been run over.
Morrissey is still music's entertaining king of misanthropy.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments