Mopier than ever: 'Years of Refusal' is Morrissey's best in years

When the Smiths broke up in 1987, everyone thought it was over for Stephen Patrick Morrissey. As the group's lead singer, Morrissey had been part of arguably the most influential indie rock band ever, introducing fragility - both musical and emotional - into alt-rock for the first time. Bands from Belle & Sebastian to Radiohead claim they wouldn't exist without the Smiths, and a hushed awe seems to fall upon critics whenever a new Smiths compilation is released - something that happens far too often, to the delight of former members' bank accounts.

Before Morrissey, rock stars were meant to be "cool" - smoking, swearing, screwing everything in sight. Morrissey, with his perfectly coiffed James Dean hair and Sinatra croon, bucked the trend completely, singing about everything from pedophilia to vegetarianism with the same languidly detached cynicism. He even claimed to be a celibate asexual. Little wonder he got tagged with the affectionate nickname "The Pope of Mope" - by comparison, even Leonard Cohen sounded like an optimist.

Since the break up of the Smiths, however, Morrissey has had a more successful solo career than I think anyone would ever have predicted. Certainly by comparison to former Smiths member Johnny Marr, Morrissey has been one of the few major rock stars to settle well into old age, adapting to current trends while retaining everything that people love him for: in particular, that deliciously velveteen voice, which sounds just as smooth today as when Morrissey was crooning "How Soon Is Now?" back in 1984

Still, there is little doubt that the man's best days are behind him. His strongest solo records - the irresistibly dark and vicious "Viva Hate" and the terse, muscular "Your Arsenal" - spanned the period 1988 to 1994, and though his most recent releases have been perfectly solid efforts, they show a star settling into a comfortable rut rather than really pushing himself. His last release, "Ringleader of the Tormentors," was especially worrisome: Save for a handful of tracks, it was Morrissey on auto-pilot, lazily working his way through his usual themes of paranoia, cynicism and self-hate over a thoroughly middle-of-the-road modern rock sound.

On his new album, "Years of Refusal," Morrissey sounds revitalized. In some ways, it is a Morrissey-by-numbers album: The lyrics are just as cheerless as ever (first line: "I'm doing very well, I can block out the present and the past now"), and his backing band remain solid rather than spectacular, supporting Morrissey's melodramatic vocals with a rather less colorful mainstream rock sound.

The change is with the man himself: No longer does Morrissey sound lazy or bored. For the first time in a while, he sounds furious rather than just cynical, and there is a blistering energy to his vocal performances that hasn't been heard in at least a decade.

For the first time since the mid-'90s, the singer lives up to the melodrama of his album's title. "Years of Refusal" truly sounds like a man unleashed, and it's a cathartic listen.

The opener, "Something Is Squeezing My Skull," brilliantly sets the tone for the record. The song positively quivers with melodrama, and there is a lip-smacking relish to Morrissey's vocals as he launches into an excoriating - and also rather hilarious - tirade against prescription drugs. In the bridge, Morrissey lists his anti-depressants of choice (valium, lithium, temazepam) before screaming on the song's outro, "Don't give me any more / don't give me any more / please don't give me any more."

Surging melodrama is hardly the exception on "Years of Refusal." The first single, "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris," is the only song that vaguely sounds like the Smiths, but it's the wildly theatrical chorus that's most memorable: "I'm throwing my arms around Paris/because only stone and steel accept my love."

On the opposite extreme is the unhinged "All You Need Is Me," in which Morrissey trills, snarls and whoops his way over by far the most aggressive musical backing on the album, all crunchy guitar riffs and smashing percussion.

The song reaches its emotional climax at the end with Morrissey addressing his working-class background: "I was a small fat child in a welfare house /there was only one thing I ever dreamed about." That listeners never discover what exactly that "thing" is only adds to the song's sinister enigma.

Just as deliciously dark is "It's Not Your Birthday Anymore," in which Morrissey spurns a lover with lines like "Did you really believe all of those syrupy, sentimental things we said yesterday?" before throwing himself into a series of urgent, guttural cries.

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While Morrissey's lyrics have grown less poetic since his time with the Smiths, there is something quite delightful in their blunt simplicity. Rather than drowning his songs in words, there is a newfound economy to Morrissey's lyricism that fits well with his vocal pyrotechnics.

The urgent "That's How People Grow Up" is a perfect showcase for the singer's new lyrical style, filled as it is with gloriously brusque lines like "I was driving my car / I crashed and broke my spine / so yes, there are things worse in life / than never being someone's sweetie."

There's no doubt that the singer is the main attraction here, but there is also a musical diversity to "Years of Refusal" that sets it apart from Morrissey's most recent work. Sure, the album is hardly experimental - in fact, it barely deserves the tag of "alternative rock" - but it does have an impressive stylistic variety, from the brassy '60s rock of "When I Last Spoke to Carol" to the grandiose military march of "Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed."

Of course, it's small fry compared to the intricate jangle-pop of the Smiths, but as the decades wear on, it's getting harder and harder to pull the "not as good as the Smiths" card. If anything, the stylistic chasm between Morrissey's current work and his legendary output with the Smiths makes "Years of Refusal" sound stronger by comparison.

If I'm making "Years of Refusal" sound like a masterpiece, I don't want to. There are some weak, tuneless songs, particularly toward the end, and it certainly isn't the best album of Morrissey's solo career.

But from a 50-year-old singer who's at least 20 years past his prime, "Years of Refusal" is as vital as anyone has a right to expect. And if you're still wondering whether Morrissey's gay, he's answered you with this one. Look at that cover. Look at that font. I mean, for goodness' sake, look at that title!

4 paws

Pros Powerful lyrics, deliriously unleashed vocals. Morrissey’s best album in over a decade.