The Smiths on an "Indie Sacred Cow" list...

LegalTender

New Member
i found this here: http://www.somethingawful.com/d/your-band-sucks/indies-sacred-cows.php

"The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller."]The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller."
 
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i found this here: http://www.somethingawful.com/d/your-band-sucks/indies-sacred-cows.php

"The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller."]The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller.[/URL]

The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller.


It's so unbelievably dull and pathetic I cannot even be bothered to read it.
I think there is some serious jealousy of Steven Patrick going round.
 
If you haven't read it ,how can you know it's dull and pathetic?

Are you psychic?


I read the first paragraph. And do shutup, you sound as if you're agreeing with that bullshit.
 
i too started and gave up reading , i too feel i wont enjoy it

Thank you! And will you just give it a rest anon x????????
 
i found this here: http://www.somethingawful.com/d/your-band-sucks/indies-sacred-cows.php

"The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller."]The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller.[/URL]

The Smiths, if you’ve never heard of them, were just a tornado of teenage repression, bad pseudo-literate jokes, failed attempts at witty turns of phrase, and Morrissey’s pained, tuneless holler. The appeal of The Smiths was the fact that it could make just about any angst-filled teenager feel better about himself because Morrissey was so much more pathetic than he could ever hope to be. Although Morrissey is often hailed as the poet laureate of whiny crybaby rock, many of his lyrics are as unintentionally hilarious as the 1975 melodramatic blaxploitation film “The Black Gestapo.” Here is a delightful example from his vegetarian tour-de-force “Meat Is Murder”:

Heifer whines could be human cries Closer comes the screaming knife This beautiful creature must die This beautiful creature must die A death for no reason And death for no reason… is murder.

Well, his clumsy poetry has me convinced. Morrissey, I promise you that I will never again butcher a live cow for no reason. The generally accepted highlight of the Smiths’ small catalogue of releases is the 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead,” on which Morrissey cleverly toys with his reputation as a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd by singing songs about being a gloomy, morose, self-pitying nerd. He’s perhaps the only rock star ever to namedrop both Keats and Yeats in the same song while at the same time misspelling the song title (“Cemetry Gates”). Score a point for intellectualism.

Perhaps the most hilarious chapter in the Smiths’ existence is the inevitable solo-project mayhem that ensued when they split up. Morrissey continued to be Morrissey, and released many terrible, self-indulgent solo albums over the years; in other words, he sort of like Sting except nobody actually buys his records. Well, actually, Sting never reinvented himself as a homosexual rockabilly greaser, and Sting never lost his record deal due to a total lack of interest from anybody other than a fanatical (and totally unexplainable) Latino following. Johnny Marr, the guitarist of The Smiths (and the only mitigating factor that made Morrissey anything but totally unbearable) has finally come out of the studio-musician woodwork with his recent “Johnny Marr and the Healers” project. Unfortunately for all the fans who had their hopes pinned on him, the album was eerily reminiscent of such hideous 90s guitarist-side-projects like The Seahorses and Hurricane #1. Johnny himself decided that he’d sing in his new band; tragically, he sounds a lot like Steve Miller.

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Peter
 
I know the person who wrote that piece, and he is a massive Smiths fan. You're all giving him the reaction he wants, sans Uncleskinny.
 
Too much text, especially duplicated, is a bit intimidating for us short-attention span theater types (;):p). Click on the link to the article, it's easier to read/digest (& I love that pic of him) not that I agreed with anything the Dr. :confused::rolleyes: had to say about the The Smiths or Morrissey. He pigeonholes us all as pale nerds. How original. :rolleyes: and goes on to rip a lot of great bands. :mad: The Doc is the only whining cow I see.

Edit: Ben Budd, you've confused me...:confused: He's a massive Smiths fan? Why so cynical and sarcastic?
 
somethingawful.com is the type of site you can go to make fun of retarded people. It's very educated and a worthy source.
 
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