On my journey through the week I noticed that Dave in accounts was not the only angry Mancunian in the land (I know there are maybe millions of angry Mancunians at any one time but please bear with me)… Johnny Marr the very talented guitarist with The Smiths has banned David ‘down with the married with two kids’ Cameron from listening to his old band. He claimed that David (Cameron not Dave in accounts) is ‘not one of us’… fair enough Johnny but my friend nor are you dear boy.
To my mind once an artist has put their art out into the world it is not the role of the artist to say who can and can’t listen/read/watch/look-at/sniff their art… unless their art is terrible and the only people who listen/read/watch/look-at/sniff their art are friends awkwardly trying to find the right words (terrible and awful being the only words they can think of) when shown the artists work in the artist’s studio (dining room). Once you have set it free it is no longer your right to censor who gets to enjoy the fruits of your creative labour. Does Johnny Marr think that he built his homes all around the world on money from vegetarian students who swapped his music by cassette and lied to prospective girlfriends claiming to have gone to one of his concerts at some provincial student union… No Johnny is very fortunate, his music crossed social strata and more importantly decades… his wealth is based on universal appeal, outsider music that found a home in the hearts and minds of millions across the world… so unfortunately that means you are not going to ideologically agree with all of your fans… Morrissey on the other hand has problems of his own at exactly the opposite end of the spectrum… I was talking to a friend about The Smiths recently (the life I lead) and my friend said he had seen Morrisey in rather fine form, playing the hits, making his little wildesque quips generally being the genial front man. He was coming towards the end of his performance and shaking hands with literally every member of the front row of the ageing mosh pit… he went down the whole of the front row but the only person who’s hand he did not shake was a miniature Morrissey… a small but perfectly formed version of the man himself in his 80’s pomp… he just looked at him… pulled a face of mild disgust and moved on to the badly dressed sweaty middle management balding bloke on a once in a blue month night out. Awkward.
In the ideal world I am sure Barak Obama coming out as a Smiths fan would please Mr Marr more but you can’t cry about the fact that you are popular across class and generations… especially when your new solo single is so very terrible…
I was going to write a tribute to Robert Sutton the engine house of the print department but it turns out he is not dead but has been keeping a low profile after an incident with Peter Garrett which has left two members of the 2nd floor teams (Corey+1) hunting him down like the dog that he is… I would like to say more but as I am making this up… I can’t.
Expenses are ready to collect from my desk from now until later (5.30) the Bank of Dominic will be open again next week should you not be around today or like Robert Sutton spending the day hiding in a cupboard…