The following is indeed a great post from the Worm but I think it belongs more in this thread.
Originally Posted by Worm
I like the fact that Years of Refusal leads off with a song that sounds as if it might've come straight from one of Morrissey's notebooks in, oh, 1981, yet crackles with a line ("The motion of taxis excites me/When you peel it back and bite me") so sexy it could only have been written in his forties.
I like the fact that the first 8 songs average about three minutes in length and the second of the two "atmospheric ballads" is actually three minutes plus two more of background noise.
I like the jaunty, locomotive drumming on several of the songs, notably "Carol" and "Farewell", creating a briskness to the album which ends in a glorious thrash with "I'm OK By Myself", and that his voice fizzles out while the music rolls on down the train tracks, unstoppable.
I like Finn's crisp production values; I like that Finn lets Morrissey paint with all the colors on the spectrum for the second time in his career.
I like the way certain lyrics jump out of nowhere ("When I die I want to go to hell", "black earth on the casket fell", "the heart has a heart of its own").
I like Roger Manning's keyboards, which are in many places the equal to Stephen Street's arrangements on the early solo records: pinpoint embellishments in some places, the backbone of other songs in others ("Sorry Doesn't Help Us").
I like that "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore" would've been a whisper-quiet polka song in 1991 and here sounds acid and wounding.
I like Morrissey's willingness to stretch, push, yank, and pretzel his voice, such as "So it must be ta...KEN!" turning into a shimmering falsetto, or his voice going as high as I've ever heard it during the end of "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore" when he does the best sequence of keening "oh oh OHs" since "The Boy With The Thorn In His Side".
I like the end of "You Were Good In Your Time", when Morrissey and his band make death and purgatory sound like a somnolent waiting area in Charles de Gaulle airport.
I like the way he pauses in "I'm OK By Myself" and speaks the line "All of my life" as if the fact so exhausts and disgusts him he can't even sing it, or the way he carefully enunciates "morality" until it bleeds disdain.
I like the way "your homespun philosophy" reminds me of the many insufferable conversations I've had over the years with people who think the blind leading the naked is "an exciting lifestyle choice".
I like that critics miss the point that the admittedly clumsy-on-paper lines "I was driving my car/I crashed and broke my spine/So yes, there are worse things in life/Than never being someone's sweetie" are prosaic precisely so that "someone's sweetie" is delivered with maximum sarcasm.
I like the way "When Last I Spoke To Carol" reminds me of "Flight of The Conchords". (Those guys are funny.) I love the way "Carol" reminds me of Spaghetti Westerns and wonder how Finn captured the spirit so memorably and Visconti didn't. I love the whistling; I love the "high plains drifter" sound effects; I love that in the middle I can't tell if it's diseased seagulls, a dying dog, or an overexcited rooster shrieking over the mix; and I think that "Carol" might well be one of the five or six best songs he's written as a solo artist.
I like that Morrissey sings "Don't give me anymore" instead of the easier-to-sing "Don't give me more" on 'Skull', because the extra syllables make him sound hilariously out of breath.
I like the "Tomorrow"-ish bassline in "Black Cloud" because "Tomorrow" is about the only song of his I can think of that-- forgive me-- rocks like this album. It's been that long.
I like that Morrissey's voice hops, skips, yelps, flutters, soars, dips, and dances in the tunes as if the aggressive music played by his band were tickling him with fire. I am shocked that, purely in terms of synergy with backing musicians, this is the most complete sound he's ever put on record-- ever.
I like that one-off singles like "Paris", "All You Need Is Me", and "Grow Up" have a home on this collection because they help sustain the fast and furious pace.
I like that the album is full of humor yet very little of it is campy or self-deprecating, as if he's through apologizing for his genius (if he ever really did, that is).
I like that there's only an oblique reference to someone who might be Mike Joyce ("You lied about the lies you told"). Thank God.
I like that Years of Refusal is the most exciting guitar-heavy record I've heard in years even though almost none of the music is even remotely ground-breaking. Everything is transformed and elevated by that voice. I am astounded that at the age of 49 Morrissey sings these songs as if rock and roll was an asteroid that crash-landed in his backyard last Tuesday night.
I like that Years of Refusal makes my mind slip into blissful oblivion and associate the name "John Maher of Wythenshawe" with badly-written complaints about garbage-collecting on the letters page of The Sun ("Sincerely Yours").
I like that Years of Refusal is both a continuation of his recent work and a total break with the past; that when he sings "I'm OK By Myself" I think he means it this time; and most of all that the last song on the album ends with Morrissey letting his voice shatter into melodic static as one last sign that, unlike everyone else, he has absolutely no interest in treating his legacy like a Faberge egg.
I like that Years of Refusal singes my bad haircut with the knowledge that Morrissey is here, with me, in the present, and not a gangly ghost haunting a shuttered music hall in a sea-siiiiide town/that they forgot to close down; I like that one of the last bullets in Morrissey's clip is one of his very best.
Thank you, Morrissey.
