by Brett Warner
A mere two months after the dissolution of The Smiths, former New York Dolls fan club president Steven Patrick Morrissey released a single of his own, the now-classic “Suedehead” in February of 1988. The song was a bigger UK hit than any of his previous work with the band, and the defensively sardonic debut solo LP Viva Hate arrived that March. A falling out with producer and collaborator Stephen Street put plans to record a second album indefinitely on hold. As such, Morrissey released a string of hold-over singles: “The Last of the Famous International Playboys,” “Interesting Drug,” and “Ouija Board, Ouija Board” all in 1989. Critical backlash at “Ouija Board” -as well as an ongoing royalty dispute with former Smiths band makes Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke – nearly derailed Morrissey’s solo career altogether.
In desperation, he released two more singles and then compiled all seven A-sides and several of their B-side brethren and dubbed it Bona Drag . The album was released to critical acclaim and brought Morrissey his long-coveted Stateside audience. Two decades on, the album is universally recognized as a watershed moment for both Britpop and Morrissey’s up-and-down solo career. To mark the compilation record’s twentieth anniversary, EMI has released a deluxe reissue of the album featuring new artwork and liner notes plus six bonus tracks, three of which are previously unreleased.
Viewed simply as a collection of his early singles, Bona Drag is still an impressive release. The boisterous jangle pop of “Suedehead” – courtesy of former Durutti Column front man Vini Reilly – is a bold divorce from Smiths guitar guru Johnny Marr’s style of playing, a declaration of independence drenched in isolationist prose and James Dean hero worship. The even more classic “Everyday Is Like Sunday” with its unforgettable keyboard sweep, is a blustery day anthem and a desperate prayer for nuclear annihilation: “Come Armageddon, come Armageddon come.” Both singles were also on Viva Hate and their inclusion here is the start of what would become a long string of pointless rehashing on future Morrissey compilations – though in terms of swiftly summing up his early solo career, you needn’t look too much further than these two songs.
“The Last of the Famous International Playboys” is a boisterous, stomping ode to “the romance of crime,” a popular lyrical topic for Mozzer. “I never wanted to kill,” his protagonist Reggie Kray proclaims to his imprisoned criminal idol, “I am not naturally evil. Such things I do just to make myself more attractive to you.” (It’s gruesome, of course, that someone so handsome should care.) The smiley-faced, almost twee “Interesting Drug” addresses the dole, poverty, and government corruption without ever betraying its upbeat, bouncing feel-good vibe. On the notoriously panned “Ouija Board, Ouija Board”, Morrissey’s lonely protagonist uses the titular device to contact a deceased friend: “She has now gone from this unhappy planet, with all the carnivores and the destructors of it.” It’s a gently quaint tune that does well to surround itself in such good company, where it’s easier to forgive its meandering arrangement and unmemorable hook.
Perhaps the most underrated of his early singles, “November Spawned A Monster” is a heart-wrenching ode to a disabled, wheelchair bound young girl. “Sleep on and dream of love,” he laments, “Because it’s the closest you will get to love.” Nearly crippled by depression earlier in his teen years, Morrissey’s lyrical surrogate is chillingly apt. Lines like “But Jesus made me, so Jesus save me from pity, sympathy, and people discussing me” describes the teenage wallflower experience in painful frankness. Similarly, “Piccadilly Palare” also concerns itself with outsiders: the 1960s male prostitutes around Picadilly Square in London, disguising their trade and their then-illegal compulsions with a secret slang all their own. Morrissey’s own sexuality and predilection towards the outcasts and scum of society makes the song a quiet anthem for his own striving for creative and personal freedom-“You cry when you think of all the battles you’ve fought… It may all end tomorrow, or it could go on forever, in which case I’m doomed. ”
Later Morrissey compilation records like My Early Burglary Years and Swords suffered since his B-sides failed to live up to their flipside brethren. Not so on Bona Drag – as was the case with The Smiths, Morrissey’s early B-sides became classics in their own right. An edit of “Will Never Marry” (from the “Everyday Is Like Sunday” single) is a string-drenched, majestic dedication to lifelong solitude. “I will live my life as I will eventually die… alone,” he sings amidst lush, splendorous misery. “Hairdresser On Fire” (planted on some editions of Viva Hate) borrows the string section for a sprightly and humorous guitar pop number complete with hand bells, Tin Pan Alley piano, and some “busy scissors.” The laid-back, sullen vibes of “Such A Little Thing Makes Such A Big Difference” and “He Knows I’d Love To See Him” give the compilation a welcome change of pace, the later another reactionary fable concerning his critical detractors. “You’re just another person in the world, you’re just another fool with radical views,” the police coldly inform his ever-prosecuted protagonist, who promises to give up singing only to swiftly change his mind on “Disappointed” amidst cheering and then groans.
The six bonus tracks on this reissue are a bit misleading -“Let The Right One Slip In” is a previously released B-side featured here in an extended although indistinguishable new mix, while “The Bed Took Fire” is an earlier incarnation of “At Amber” (B-side of “Piccadilly Palare” and featured on My Early Burglary Years) and “Please Help The Cause Against Loneliness” was given to British ’60s singer Sandie Shaw. Apart from that, “Lifeguard On Duty” (not to be confused with Vauxhall & I’s “Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning”) is a classic, almost Smiths-sounding Manchester indie rocker. “Save me from life, save me from the ails and the ills and from other things,” Morrissey pleads, “Save me from life ’cause it’s the only life I’ll ever have.” “Happy Lovers At Last United” is a serviceably sarcastic, if not striking, mid-tempo guitar strummer, while acoustic rocker “Oh Phoney” is the favorite song Holden Caulfield never got to hear. “Who can make Hitler seem like a bus conductor? You do! ” Morrissey wails, leading into a muscular Marc Bolan inspired guitar riff.
With a career that has seen numerous highs and lows, it’s easy to forget just how fresh and exciting Morrissey’s early solo records really were. Though 1991’s abysmal Kill Uncle nearly purloined its creative momentum completely, Bona Drag is a monumentally rewarding listen two decades on. Released during a forcefully transitional period in British popular music — when the guitar pop of The Smiths and The Stone Roses gave way to house and dance music, epitomized by Primal Scream’s 1991 classic Screamadelica – the record cemented Morrissey as a solo fixture in alternative rock, free to enter and leave the cultural zeitgeist as he so pleased. The mid ’90s Britpop movement and ’00s revisionist alt-rock would pull him back into the charts, but Morrissey’s stubborn dedication to his sound, his songs, and his uncompromising isolationism has given his music a timeless advantage over his now-dated peers. Bona Drag (slang for “nice outfit”) has worn very well indeed.
The Bona Drag: 20th Anniversary Edition is available now.
