It is tradition – and somewhat of an initiation programme – that I take girlfriends to see Morrissey in concert. If they can endure this indulgent gift then things will probably work out. My third such girlfriend to experience this musical pleasure (and I should point out this is over the past eighteen years, less I sound like a… ) only got to see el Quiffo perform This Charming Man and half of Black Cloud. This is because someone launched a bottle of water at him and it landed straight on his bonce. A cracking shot that under any other circumstance would have been applauded but a rather foolish thing to do to the man who once sang ‘the bottled water that flattens my hair, these are the things which kill me’
His petulant gesture was greeted with general frustration and annoyance by the majority of the crowd – if chat rooms and overheard conversations are anything to go by, rather than the usual forgiving adulation which usually surfaces when the great man is attacked in any way. This is probably because the majority of the audience are now at the fag end of their thirties and so the cost of petrol, an overnight stay in a hotel, finding a babysitter etc, become more important than the questionable ethics of a Mancunian warbler.
It’s a pity because he’s a great entertainer and has undoubtedly brought me much joy over the years, particularly in the fantastic reading lists he’s provided, courtesy of his bookish lyrics. But I don’t have much sympathy with him on this occasion. For goodness sake it was bottled water, organic, from a mountainous spring. It certainly wasn’t the end of the world. ‘Ger over your sen, lad’, Arthur Seaton would have told him. But I guess this is the real problem. Morrissey is an established star who no longer has the hunger. It is an occupational hazard of fame. People will still flock and see him no matter what so he can afford to be principled. Those starting out fresh would not have the luxury and so would be forced to continue. If you don’t believe me, lob a bottle of coke at the next new band you go to see, though I suspect for most of the audience fitting my demographic, there won’t be a next time.
Now it’s time for an experiment to see if I can get my money back whilst testing the sanity of his devout flock. I’m listing the bottle on eBay…
*Morrissey kind of played the Liverpool Echo Arena on the 7th November. The gig was ended courtesy of a fan with excellent hand-to-eye coordination and a bottle of water. Morrissey said afterwards ‘I’ve been hit with sherbert lemons, a Farley’s rusk and some penne or was it Linguini, anyway, but water is taking it too far. It could have taken my eye out or i could have slipped on stage. It’s a bloody risk hazard, so it is’