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First there was chaos, the yawning Abyss. But then there was Sacha Distel. Chanson seducer, all slight of feet and slim of hips. Beautiful French man. Then a kitschen sink drama and a New York Doll. Finally Richard Burton. Gazing down from the stage with an icy twinkle and a warm beer. And we’re off. We flocked to the all-new Roundhouse, this stunning amphitheatre of brushed metal and £35 tickets in search of the Deity. But it was only Swiss Tony. In his grey Millets slacks, gut bursting over the sides, gold chains and hairy chest. And a stinking cold. Six songs in, polite applause and suddenly it’s Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before. We’re punching the air but He is mocking us. He sings it as a parody. He is embarrassed; and He’s embarrassed for us for wanting it so badly. We are beaten down with Irish Blood, English Heart. A song He emblazons on a banner that we march behind. First beer on the back of the neck. The First of the Gang to Die is equally wet.
More polite applause. Then Life is a Pigsty. A defining moment in the evening. The Morrissey paradox. A trite and charmless chorus. But you looked. And listened. And listened. And you could see in his eyes that he meant it. Epiphany. Always the funny line and the cheap turn masking something else. Something more. Like He always does. So when He’s on his back, feet in the air to the sound of Auld Lang Syne it didn’t seem pretentious or absurd, although on the page it looks both. We’re breathless now. And then the moment when He bathed us in golden sunlight. Please please please let me have who I want (sic) was so beautiful, so perfect. Spiritual and ephemeral. Breathtaking. Finally, amazingly, after all these years, He seemed reconciled with His back catalogue. How Soon is Now? Sweeping and majestic. Stretch Out & Wait thoughtful and touching.
An encore of The Last of the International Playboys was a fitting finale. Summing up precisely where we’ve got. Morrissey the observer rather than Morrissey the participant. When He sang about the Iron Bridge you knew He’d been there. He now watches over us, an observer of all human failings but no longer party to it. A Deity if you will. Which is where we came in.