Autobiography Paperback – 2013

Most rock stars aren’t expected to be men of letters, so all that’s asked of their memoirs is an adequate retelling of sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll anecdotes fleshed out by a competent ghost writer. Not so with Morrissey. His brilliant lyrics (for those like myself who consider them so) inspire high literary expectations, and with this long-awaited autobiography Morrissey proves himself up to the challenge.

The first quarter of the book, in which he vividly describes his youth in Manchester, is a phenomenal piece of writing. In eloquently rendered, unconventional prose that resembles a sort of thesaurus-wringing beat poetry, Morrissey depicts latter-20th-century working-class life in Northern England as a bleak, modern Dickensian world in which children are beaten by sadistic teachers and every day is silent and gray. Music is the only means of escape for young Morrissey, and one day he decides to stop idolizing bands and start becoming one. Fans of the Smiths will probably be disappointed by the brevity with which he covers his tenure with that band, but it was after all only 10 percent of his life span. The centerpiece of the book is his Kafkaesque account of The Smiths trial in which drummer Mike Joyce sued Morrissey and guitarist Johnny Marr for additional royalties. Here Morrissey really piles the acrimonious invective on Joyce, the lawyers, the judge, and the British justice system in general. He insists over and over again how he got the shaft, and, from his one-sided account, it certainly appears that he did. One can understand Morrissey’s desire to state his case once and for all, and his account is quite riveting for a while, but it goes on far too long. What really kills the book, however, is its final quarter, which consists of an elaborate tour diary in which Morrissey travels the world, basking in the glory of his You Are the Quarry renaissance. He recounts every city he stopped in, how the crowd loved him, and how he loved them loving him. This sort of writing would be fine for a what-it’s-like-to-be-a-rock-star fluff piece in Rolling Stone, but it feels out of place in this otherwise uncommonly literary memoir.

There’s not much in this book about writing songs or recording music. If you’re interested in details of that sort, I would suggest checking out Simon Goddard’s Mozipedia. There is, however, quite a bit said about the marketing of music—as in, no record company or manager ever did enough for Morrissey. It’s surprising how much he obsesses over the chart position of each and every recording. Despite all his scorning of the mainstream and his honorary status as a godfather of “alternative” music, what he really wanted all along was to be the next Beatles. Those hoping for bits of show-biz gossip won’t be disappointed, as Morrissey recounts myriad run-ins with musicians, movie stars, and television personalities and how each and every one of them somehow disappointed him.

Morrissey, in his own words, makes himself sound egotistical, cantankerous, petty, vindictive, querulous, ungrateful, and mean-spirited. Nevertheless, he somehow comes across as quite likeable and frequently hilarious. After reading Autobiography, I don’t think I’d want to hang out with the guy, but one can’t help but admire what he’s achieved in his music career and what he has accomplished with this exceptional book. This may not be quite the memoir diehard fans have been waiting for, but still it’s definitely well worth its cover price.

Disclaimer: I have loved Morrissey since 1983 and my review may be biased, but here goes...
The most endearing passages of his story were his descriptions of the emotional connection he feels with his audience. I've seen him appear live twice in my life with a 32 year span between. At both shows, the love in the air was almost palpable and I wondered, "Does he feel what we, his audience, are giving him?" These questions were put to rest after reading this book. Regardless of whether you feel too many pages were dedicated to the Joyce debacle, we must remember that this is his story, from his perspective, and quite honestly, I didn't mind it. He could write about a fart in a bathtub and it would read like classic literature.

Google it - the US edition has details of Morrissey's personal life edited out - details that were apparently deemed likely to upset American readers, who (even when looking to read Morrissey's autobiography) are apparently likely to be offended by discussion of homosexuality. I returned mine and will be buying the British edition. Scandal.

Excellently written, well-paced, full of all the self-depreciation and bitterness that one would expect from Moz. It gives an unexpectedly human and likeable face to the author and brings the reader on an amazing journey from the belligerent ghouls of his Manchester up-brining to his current last-of-the-international-playboys, LA rock-star lifestyle. There's plenty of coldly served revenge. His old teachers get it. Johnny Marr gets it. Rourke and Joyce get it. The lonely high-court judge gets it. Also on the list: Geoff Travis, Tony Wilson, Brian Ferry, various hired-gun musicians, meat-eaters, Siouxsie Sioux, the monarchy, Sire Records, John Peel . . . you get the idea. If getting even tap, tap, tapping into a laptop is as much fun as reading the results, then Morrissey must be a happy man.
The book is very impressionistic, which makes it quite a breath of fresh air compared to other rock biogs. Mr. Morrissey spends pages dwelling on obscure moments in his life and seems to skip over huge swaths. For me, there was too little space given to the Smiths period and possibly too much to his adolescence (Johnny Marr knocks on Moz's front door about a quarter through the book). I would recommend this to anyone with even a passing interest in contemporary music -- it's a great under-the-bonnet look at the creative process and the record industry. His ability to describe loneliness and the alienation of someone who is different from the masses is second to none and this book should be a must for teenagers in the same way Catcher in the Rye is.