Scarcely Pete Hamill-esque in terms of length, but truer words have rarely been typed ~
'..."Life is hard enough when you belong here". "Angel, don't take your life tonight - I will be here." "I love you more than life."...
When he sings these lines, you know from the bottom of your soul that he is singing them to you alone. And when you hear his voice (in my case anyway) the unfathomable loneliness of modern life eases its grip.
In a celebrity world of glib proclamations (as in "I don't take myself too seriously"), you can believe that Morrissey takes himself very seriously, and when his words are delivered to you, the listener, you know that he takes you very seriously too.
Viva Hate - is an ironic title from a man who, try as he may, is not capable of so much as a hateful glance beyond the barbecue.
The compassion steeped in these 12 tracks, without shame, will make you feel, (maybe for the first time) truly loved.
He means it folks!
~ Chrissie Hynde!'
Side 1 of the LP has the message "BLOOD BATHS I HAVE KNOWN" scratched into the matrix. Side 2 has a message vigorously scored out rendering it almost illegible - begins with S end with a BA possibly. Cock-up?
LP is not a double. The original tty release never said it was but pretty much all the retailers have it listed as such, which never made a bit of sense given 12 tracks. It's gatefold though. No 'pull-out poster' as listed on tty. Nice inner as well - blue Liberty Records house bag.
The LP is a thing of beauty. Corbijn's cover shot is beautifully rendered, in more of a slight sepia tint than the slight blue I remember of the original. The rear cover is that shot of him stood in front of a funeral announcement in some poor soul's front parlour window, and looks both hilarious and melancholy at the full 12 inch square. It's by Jake Walters, who was but a twinkle in Morrissey's eye at the time of 'Viva Hate', but nevertheless...
The remaster sounds magnificent ~ spatially precise, pristine in it's separations, enhanced volume but not 'louder' if you catch me, and bass that could give the dog a stroke. By the end of 'Alsation cousin' I was sold. It sounds so gloriously menacing in all it's dark and erotic seedy splendour that, back in the day, with this song and the two that follow, you could have been forgiven for forgetting all about The Smurfs. The title may have been filched from Alan Bennett, but if Philip Larkin had had a fuzzbox he couldn't have mustered better than this. I haven't compared the Very Best Of tracks with this remaster yet, so I don't know whether 'Suedehead' and 'Everyday Is Like Sunday' sound slightly more or slightly less magnificent there than they do here. But we're talking minimal degrees of magnificence, if that's possible. And this remaster is by John davis, 'with Stephen street'.