GOOD TIMES, FOR A CHANGE: WILL MORRISSEY & MARR REUNITE AT CRUEL WORLD FESTIVAL NEXT WEEKEND IN PASADENA? PLUS, THE ORIGIN STORY OF JOHNNY “FUCKING” MARR, AND A POSSIBLE 80’s DESERT TRIP II LINEUP…

Hi-Hello, My Love,

I know it’s gonna happen someday — but approximately, how soon is now? Possibly 9 days away.

Simply put: the reforming of The Smiths — or even a one-off re-pairing performance by Morrissey & Marr — has been an evergreen meditation in the fecund and fertile minds of many, for as many years as the seismic rupture has been minded, and always to no result, other than anti-climax.

FYI, a quick note on the math, by way of an easy-to-reference conversion table: 1 “Smiths-year” = 5 (or more, depending) human years, with no discernible half-life for the radiance of earnestness.

Ever-mindful of this calculus of the long-suffering fandom, one must, when speaking of such possibilities, avoid the usual rushes to judgments which are freefalling our sanity during this, our Reactionary Age in which collective and/or individual indignation at aggregated historical grievances are often overleveraged to the point of terrifyingly indiscriminate abstraction, as some individuals bend the moral arc of the universe just enough to suit their own agenda, dubbing their betrayal of facts and fairness, kismet, or worse, Kharma (which arguably, only affects the next life?), however, I digress.

So, let’s start with actual, albeit, merely (for now) circumstantial facts:

Johnny’s UK tour dates with Blondie end on May 7th, with his own US tour commencing on August 19th — leaving him free to do his usual gadflying, to the poignant delight of long-suffering Smiths fans, say, on Blondie’s next US dates, May 14th and 15th at the 80s-centric Cruel World…and then, possibly, joining Morrissey…who will be headlining the very same festival (both nights).

Will Johnny knock on Morrissey’s door, like he did all those years ago?

Amidst this initial speculation, we must also be mindful of how we all thought Johnny would join Stephen at Coachella, when they were both there, and it totally didn’t happen. However, for this author, that weekend delivered a total life-miracle: I was shooting the festival as I had for years, and filmed Johnny Marr’s surprise performance of “A Town Called Malice” with Paul Weller, after blurt-crying to the newly-kind universe and some good people I’d just met, “Johnny Fucking Marr?”, unknowingly giving my lifetime guitar hero an enduring nickname (and popular merch item).

And so, given that this reunion did not happen at Coachella, I have to, again, offer my apologies in advance for making the case this time around. However, I will respectfully state herein that I simply believe things to be very different now, and that, by way of a Hegelian inevitability, this is an idea, an act of peace and love and music, whose time has come.

Speaking of Hegelian eventualities (note: “Hegelian Popcorn” is the name of a documentary on leaks and whistleblowing that I am completing), herewith, some very early, core thoughts on what might be curated, if one were of the mind to do Desert Trip II, for another generation.

For now, I’m positing this as a 3-day, two-headliners-per-night show (again, per Desert Trip format) though it could be built-out and added to, for a weekend (or two) that a hearty chunk of several generations would give their eyeteeth to be at, and which is totally doable. This is in alphabetical order; actual daily lineup and/or additions TBD, by YOU:

Depeche Mode

New Order

REM

The Cure

The Smiths

U2

By suggesting these bands (full disclosure: I actually have), I don’t want to be chauvinistic; they are just a core I’ve arrived at, mindful that there are others, though this is a pretty good start, methinks.

That’s all for now. I won’t be at Cruel World next weekend, though I have a pass (and enough SkyMiles, I think), just like I wasn’t at Coachella, though I had a pass, because I can’t imagine getting on a plane with others not wearing masks. Yeah, I’m gutted, though right now, it’s about staying healthy and alive in my hometown (Manhattan), where we had 9/11 casualties in multiples, scaling to a million souls lost across America (through death, and still counting) and countless more (still living), lost as ever.

Walking wounded all, we’ve seen this happen in other people’s (and peoples’) lives, and now it’s happening in ours…yet we just might live with a smile on our faces, after all. So, dear reader, accept yourself, and please save your life, because you’ve only got one — whosever, wheresoever, howsoever you are. We’ll get there, and we need you here, now, in immeasurable ways.

And, yo, Johnny, Stephen — and I say this with respect for your hard-earned post-Smiths autonomy from the sometimes-impudent demands of we, the enduring faithful: think about what this could mean to so many, in these times, and ask yourself: would it really be so bad to share one of your songs, together, with all of us? Your call; we’ll understand, whatever you decide. You owe us nothing, brothers.

Extra-credit reading: Exclusive excerpt (at my old HuffPost blog) from Morrissey’s Autobiography — one of the finest non-fiction first-chapters I’ve ever read. Johnny’s memoir is also a must-read, and along with his post-Smiths lyrics, we see how the freed boy is also a born writer. Well done, both of you.

Endnote: there have, in the decades since those bad old days of Reagan and Thatcher, been changes — perceived and/or expressed — to what were believed/presumed to be binding, concurrent worldviews betwixt artist and audience, arriving now, in the present, at what are seemingly, to some, unbridgeable chasms. To this, I say: whatever divergent worldviews we’ve arrived at circa now, we (fans AND musos) still have, really, only two choices:

1) Endeavor to, through the newly-shared art of our youth, take existential inventory of the moment, recognizing our very real, superceding mutual humanity, and responsibly contemplate what our continued failures portend, and where we might find commonality from this point of fundamental recognition.

OR

2) Mis-appraise the enduring value and as-yet unfulfilled potential of what we shared when we were younger and freer in mind, by woefully, indiscriminately casting the worth of these precious half-lessons from our youth with the collected detritus of our ostensible adulthood, writing it all off via the same bullshit denial mechanisms of every other failed generation…while plague, continued poverty and total extinction await our inaction.

Your call.

Tags: Johnny Marr, Morrissey, Paul Tollett, Cruel World, The Smiths, Goldenvoice