Central Park Summer Stage New York, NY September 17, 1997 Morrissey can play my funeral any day. He's been singing my blues away since 1984, when the first strains of the Smiths' "What Does Difference Does It Make" first crackled their way into my heart via San Francisco underground radio. Obsession with depression has long been consuming a large segment of the world's youth; and the modern movement is led by none other than the King of Mopes, Stephen [sic] Patrick Morrissey. Morrissey brought his current tour in support of his new LP, Maladjusted, to New York City's Central Park Summerstage to benefit the free concert series offered there each summer. The "dustbowl" theater had reportedly not sold out by the time openers U.K's Elcka hit the stage with an impressive set of alterna-rock that sounded not unlike Brit-pop brethren with an Oasis edge. But fans seemed anxious for the maudlin man to play, especially since this was Morrissey's first NYC appearance since his packed 1992 Limelight show. Moz came on about quarter to eight, amid a green strobe light attack coupled with an impressive drum intro by his longtime skin basher Spencer James Cobrin. Moz was forced to scream the opening lines to "Maladjusted" so he could be heard over the adoring audience's roar, all the while tossing bouquets of gladiolas and other flowers in the grand tradition of the Smiths. The array of flying flowers made Moz quite miffed, and at times he would flawlessly catch a bouquet and throw it right back. During this show Moz appeared to successfully walk a thin tightrope between uneasiness and comfort from having to respond to his overzealous fans. During uptempo numbers like "Boy Racer," the single "Alma Matters," and "Now My Heart Is Full" he stood rather aloof and Elvis-like on stage left as fans screamed in between his lyrics. On slower songs like "Reader Meets Author" he would and sit down on the lip of the stage and sing to the fans, at times extending an open hand that would was usually graciously worshipped. He kept the onstage banter to a minimum, thanking the audience a few times, and at one point, looking helplessly at the bouquets strewn about the stage he exclaimed "Oh, dear," and began kicking the bouquets back into the crowd. Despite his apparent unease with his adoring public, the maudlin man still reigns supreme as king of the mopes. Arleen Colone (Prttysldr@aol.com) |
