“Separate the artist from the art” has become less of a philosophical exercise and more of a health warning with regards to Morrissey in recent times. Any former devotees who have been put off by his public splutterings can rest easy knowing this is hardly the masterpiece to tempt them back into the fold.
While there are some bright, bold moments here, it’s a thoroughly frustrating album. Opening track Jim Jim Falls has an arresting acid-house energy, but is paired with peculiarly cold lyrics: “If you're gonna kill yourself / Then for God's sake just kill yourself”. Darling, I Hug a Pillow ends with a beautiful, wistful outro, but is preceded by an egregious chorus, all fuzzy bleeps and clunking melodies.
Elsewhere, Morrissey takes an inevitable swipe at the press on the bellicose title track — “I do not read newspapers, they are troublemakers” — and finds romance in someone who’s been turned into a “public target”, adding: “You’re ok by me / With your handsome teeth.”
The Secret of Music sums it all up. It initially sounds like an innovation — Morrissey’s lilting vocals float while the production is twitchy and off-kilter. Across eight meandering minutes, though, it’s a drag.
