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Thursday, 11 February 2016

Trigger warnings

I feel like a bystander to my own blob posts. Some innocent research, discovery and sharing have touched off a comments flame war. Actually, I think my blob post just happened to be a convenient place to troll the fluffy rodent.

Maladjusted's "unpopular themes" are disturbing. For years I rarely played the album because it left me bereft. It's bold rawness and disclosure would leave depressed. I can only listening to it now and appreciate it at other levels without despair thanks to a daily dose of little white lies.

I don't want to upset people or ruin their experience of the songs. The magic of songs and their lyrics is that we can all have our own interpretations. They are cherished as part of our own identity.

I remember what happened when my first and almost final girlfriend and I discussed the meaning of Peter Gabriel's Red Rain. She thought it was about a drought in Africa. I thought it was a metaphor for being an activist witness to a reign of terror by death squads; it was, after all, the '80s and Gabriel was doing the Conspiracy of Hope tour for Amnesty.

Well, she didn't like that. Her interpretation was final. So, she rolled her eyes and closed her legs.

Turns out, the song was inspired by a rather surreal recurring dream.

Peter Gabriel: not a member of the Illuminati
Morrissey, as a master lyricist, can weave many influences in to his song poems. Some are obvious and some are not. Some are sourced from poets, novelists, playwrights or other lyricists. Some influences are selected from direct personal experience and others may not be conscious. Lyrics can be crafted for meaning and effect, be from spur-of-the-moment inspiration or from moments of daydreaming and dissociation.

Sometimes, the lyrics that work the best don't really mean a thing. You feel them.

I can't claim any certainty with my analysis or interpretations. I'm probably totally off the beam. But, this is meant to be not just potentially enlightening, but also fun. I don't want to spoil anyone's enjoyment of any Morrissey song. Ever.

However, I shall complete my self-assigned task of looking for possible hidden meanings, references and loopy stuff in the lyrics of Maladjusted. I started something that I intend to finish.

Thus, I have decided to complete my wacky analysis of Morrissey's Maladjusted-era songs by taking a double-pronged approach.

For those sufficiently brave, foolish or robust to want to continue reading the odd gear, please read any blob post prefixed with OUT TO LUNCH.

For those who want a less challenging experience, please feel free to read any blob post with a title beginning thus: MORE BREAKFAST IN BED.

Stay tuned. Or not.


  1. Ah Comrade, you have the baton between your teeth and are running with it.

  2. Well said, Comrade. As the MW blog said, "mystery is the soul of art." The beauty of art is that it's open to various interpretations and multiple layers of meaning, just as MW was/is and all of M's lyrics are, as he has mostly kept silent about their meanings. Bottom line is, it makes us think, which is sadly lacking in today's world, so I'm always open to some more lunch, whether or not I like what's being served.

  3. Thank you for your support.

    Art certainly is mystery and Morrissey's art here has impacted me profoundly at an emotional level. I really want to get to some kind of understanding as to this album's heart of darkness. It's a personal journey that I'm sharing.

    I'll get to work on lunch and breakfast.