MORRISSEY Speaks To NME - Part 2

In Part Two of NME's first chat with Morrissey in 12 years, he talks about his time in a Los Angeles police cell, why he feels that love never lasts and why it's the judges from 'Pop Idol' we should fear the most.

NME: One of the songs on 'You Are The Quarry' is 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores'. Name five.
Morrissey: "I could name 505, but that's not the point. Let's just say the world is full of crashing bores. They know who they are, particularly within music."

Are you alluding to 'Pop Idol'?
"It's the entire culture of so-called pop music and the assumption that all you have to do is stand there and smile and you're a pop idol. (Sighs in disgust) They are the aspects of modern society that scare me to death. They're worse than terrorists."

Why? Because they have more impact on ordinary people's lives?
"No, because they're idiots. It's just the hideous process of wheeling them on, stripping them down and throwing them off. It's just so degrading and sad, really. You do actually feel pity for them, and you can only shudder at the working mind of the young people who enter the competition."

Do you think there's an element of sadism in popular culture now that wasn't there before?
"Definitely. And that is because people will do anything for fame."

Did you always want to be famous or did you just want to express yourself?
"No, I certainly wanted to be famous."

Would you now if you were starting again?
"Well, I think when I was a child, more than anything else I wanted not to be ordinary. And I wanted to be considered to be a bit peculiar. When I was at school I wanted to be peculiar and I was delighted when I was at secondary school and I was actually thought to be peculiar (laughs). It was fantastically good for me because I looked around me and I thought, 'Well, however you are I don't want to be like you, so if you think I'm unbalanced then I'm delighted.' That really stayed with me."

You said last year that people adopt uniforms to become fascistic. Was that about the police?
"Somewhat."

Have you had brushes with the law?
"Last year I was in a cell in Los Angeles for three hours. I was put through the whole process of tagging and searching, examining personal items and so forth. It was harrowing."

What happened, exactly?
"There was just some confusion over my passport and the airport police come down very heavy on people who are supposedly in the country or attempting to enter the country illegally - which I wasn't. At the end of the three hours, when they realised, they were terribly nice to me but, for the three hours before they realised, it was awful."

What did they do to you?
"Well, the police in America are terribly heavy and are themselves beyond the law, so they can do anything. They can shoot you and it doesn't matter to anybody. They don't have to account for themselves. But they're very, very aggressive. And that's quite shocking, when you're surrounded, dragged into a room and cross-examined."

What did they ask you?
"Well, they asked absolutely everything. Whatever you say in response, it sounds wrong, and that's the way it is with the police - they're trained to humiliate. And they're trained to believe that every single member of the public is a criminal and that it's their job to find out how so. So as you can imagine, the level of questioning from the police was just awful and there's not really much you can do about it. Even though you explain yourself quite well, they always find some way to ridicule you."

Did they think you were a terrorist?
"Yes. Yes, they did. They thought I was a threat to national security."

Did you explain that you were a singer?
"Yes. One of them knew me and said he had a CD in the car and so forth. I offered a smile and it was mocked."

Was there anyone else in your cell?
"There were a lot of people being detained, but I was the only one in the cell that I was in. Have you ever sat in a cell? It's pretty rough. I don't recommend it."

Is the lyric, "The whispering may hurt you but the written word might kill you", from 'You Know I Couldn't Last', about music critics?
"No it isn't, really. It's addressing people who have been critical of me through the years and never quite given credit for my having sustained a barrage of unrelenting criticism, which is quite difficult for most people to take. Most people can't take criticism. And I think I've been accused of everything except murder (sighs) - which is bound to come at some stage, I don't doubt."

What's the worst thing that's been said about you?
"There's been so many things."

Did the racism charge hurt you most?
"Yes, because I don't have any racist feelings, so it's ludicrous."

On the 'Vauxhall And I' song 'Speedway', you sang, "All those lies/Written lies, twisted lies/Well, they weren't lies".
"Well, life is a game, isn't it?"

Were you just winding people up?
"Well, probably that also. (Laughs) People are there to be wound up, as far as I'm concerned. There's no other function for the human race."

Is 'All The Lazy Dykes' about a lesbian commune?
"No. It's about a woman in a conventional marriage and I'm - I, personally - am trying to convince her to go to The Palms nightclub, which is on Santa Monica Boulevard."

Oh, so it's a real place then?
"Yes, it is. And I'm trying to convince her to join the people who she should really be with, and if she goes there and she allows herself to be herself and let herself go she will be alive again."

Have you been to this nightclub yourself?
"No, I haven't."

How do you know what it's like then?
"(Laughs) Of course I've passed by many times. The clientele are all spilling onto the pavement and they look absolutely fascinating. Really very, very strong women; women who know who they are and what they want and where they're coming from and where they're going. Fascinating."

Is it true that you fell out with (Dead Or Alive singer and old friend) Pete Burns over a fur coat?
"No, that's a story that he tells to people in the very, very slim hope of appearing interesting. I never fell out with him at all. He has a very strong personality and you have to be a bit of an athlete to keep up with him and he has savage critique of the people around him which becomes slightly wearing. But I do think he's very talented and has a really good voice and I don't understand why he doesn't do more, because he is a very interesting person."

You've got quite a sharp tongue yourself, of course.
"(Laughs) Not really."

Do you think you've mellowed?
"No, I don't think so. I lie in my bed and I like being comfortable. Does that mean I've mellowed?"

Not really.
"No. Well then, I haven't mellowed."

You've said that you now believe in vegetarianism even more than ever before. What's intensified those feelings?
"Well, the love I feel for animals and the way I feel they need my love."

Have you got any pets?
"I can't because I've just been running around so much. In order to be the perfect parent you have to be there all the time. If I had a pet I couldn't give him the attention he needed. I have obviously in the past had lots that have expired along the way. I think it's so unfair if you're not there all the time. Cats love routine every day and dogs need so much attention. But I have absolutely no doubt that I'll have masses of animals once I decide to be still."

On 'I Have Forgiven Jesus' you reiterate a constant theme in your work: that you find it impossible to love and be loved. Surely people are queuing up?
"To do what?"

To have you as a boyfriend or a partner.
(Morrissey sniggers)

Is that not the case?
"Well, I haven't noticed any queues to be honest. I mean, there isn't one outside this hotel, is there?"

Nobody knows you're here!
"Well, that's a mere detail. There's still no queue, so that scotches that idea. Well, how do I answer that question without even really knowing what the question is? (Ponders) It's the human condition, I think. Constantly looking for affection. Wondering why it isn't there when you need it to be."

It must have been there at some point.
"When do you mean? The release of 'Suedehead'? (Falls about laughing)"

Why do you say that?
"Just because it's ridiculous. (Thinks) Yes, to be quite honest yes it is fleetingly. It comes in and out. But it's not something I ever speak about because it isn't lasting. I mean, is it lasting in your life?"

No, not really. Well, not so far.
"'No, not really. Not so far.' What do you mean - no?"

At the moment no, but I imagine that well, I hope I'll meet someone.
"Well, you see, that's the trick of life, isn't it? How old are you?"

Twenty-nine.
"Twenty-nine? Forget it. Buy yourself a nice budgie. That's my advice to you."

Why: do you think I'd be settled down by now if it was going to happen?
"Well, you know, you've been roaming the planet for 29 years, and if it hasn't struck you on the head by now I think you'd just better really get used to that television set and get yourself a nice comfortable armchair - which is fine, nothing wrong with that. You see, when you're a bit younger you constantly think, 'It's bound to happen. I'm bound to turn around a certain corner and be faced by love everlasting.' And it's a trick of the light, I'm afraid. (Drinks tea) Sorry about that. 'What the palmist said.'"

Definitely. It's a bit like being cursed.
"All part and parcel of a Morrissey interview. There's no charge."

So what happens next?
"What, for you?"

In the world of Morrissey. Or for me, if you want.
"Well, do you really want to dwell on it? I'm just sliding down life's chute. Either people will take this album and really enjoy it, and that will be thrilling for me, or they won't. And so be it. But this certainly feels like the moment. Which is quite astonishing considering I've been around for 50 years. A late flush. I'm a late lark singing."

Is this your Indian summer?
"Don't go too far!"

This interview was conducted by Alex Needham and originally appeared in the issue of NME dated April 17 2004.