Merciless on “The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get,” heartless on “Suedehead” and just plain mean on “We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful,” Morrissey inhabits a cheerless world, and the darker the better. “November Spawned a Monster,” a bizarre sympathy song for a disabled girl, is the creepiest, with the help of Mary Margaret O’Hara wailing in tongues. He is capable of lighter moments, though: You can picture him in a Caesar’s lounge crooning, “Because everything that you said rings true uh ho ho uh ho ho” on “The Last of the Famous International Playboys,” his cheeky ode to England’s brotherly crime duo the Krays. Of course, there’ll be a breaking point when you wish he’d take his gladiolas and shove ’em. So much energy can be exhausted figuring out whether his target is personal, fictional or national (as in his Englishness), it’s sometimes best to let longtime backups Boz Boorer, Alain Whyte and Spencer James Cobrin do the talking, as on the raucous “Tomorrow” from ’29’s excellent Mick Ronson–produced Your Arsenal.

Then there’s a gem like “Everyday Is Like Sunday.” Even as Morrissey reminisces about a dull seaside town that should’ve been destroyed in a nuclear war, the gentleness and humility in his voice, coupled with a breathtaking orchestra, strip all the pomposity and pontification and make the song go down like a warm elixir. It harks back to the Smiths’ “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out,” a time when clutching some flowers, waving a lighter and shedding a tear felt beautifully religious. (Siran Babayan)