Morrissey preached and delivered last night at Liberty Hall
Buying a Morrissey ticket is always going to be a gamble – the enigmatic and sometimes, well, difficult singer has an established history of canceling shows and even entire tours at the drop of a hat. Though in the case of Lawrence last year, he canceled due to a variety of medical concerns. On showing up to Liberty Hall last night for his rescheduled concert, it was affirming to see the line to get in snaking around the building, indicating that the show actually was going to happen. That in itself was a victory.
Security at the show was surprisingly deep, with at least four security t-shirt-clad guys just covering Liberty Hall’s various entrances, with many more inside. Attendees were patted down and warned about cameras and recordings on entrance. I can’t remember ever having been frisked at a concert, and it left me wondering what happens at Morrissey concerts that I’m not aware of that necessitates this sort of thing (beyond the obvious that Morrissey might just be a bit of a control freak).
Unfortunately, I missed the opener due to the long line and the security proceedings, but walked in with enough time to watch the crowd enjoying the show’s pre-game video, featuring concert performances from the likes of the New York Dolls, as well as other vintage clips, including footage of Margaret Thatcher with “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” from the Wizard of Oz playing over it.
And then the distorted deep bass began, and the lights fell. Moz had arrived, and the audience – which leaned younger than I had expected – erupted. He started his show off by saying “You can do whatever you want to me, but please don’t ever make me go back to Lincoln, Nebraska.”
I do not know what happened in Lincoln, Nebraska, but Morrissey had some words for Kansas City a bit later in the show. He opened his set with “One Day Goodbye will be Farewell,” off of 2009’s Years of Refusal. He sang and swayed, gesturing heavily. His distinctive throaty voice sounds as strong as ever, perhaps allaying fears some audience members may have had about last year’s persistent illnesses.
His set meandered around through material spanning his career, but early in the set it was “Everyday is Like Sunday” that prompted the spontaneous standing ovation from the seated part of the theater just halfway through the song. It’s debatable whether Morrissey likes his audiences, but they quite obviously love him. Due to the warm day, the venue was quite hot, and sweat poured down Morrissey’s face, into his three buttons-open shirt.
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About halfway through the show, he told the audience “I spent the night in Kansas City… and I stopped by Sea Life. Very sad, very sad. Sea Life, Sea World. How people can do these things – I do not know.” Then without missing a beat, he said “This song is called ‘The Bullfighter Dies.’ (a song with the lyrics The Bullfighter dies/ and nobody cries/and nobody cries because they want the bull to live.“)
I don’t think I would quite equate Sea World with the overpriced fish tank that is Sea Life, but Morrissey is nothing if not consistent with his rights advocacy (and certainly would prove this more as the evening went on). I wonder if there is anywhere on earth where he can go without being totally disgusted by something. It’s doubtful.
A big highlight of the show was the performance of “Life is a Pigsty,” which very effectively makes use of Morrissey’s vocal chops, from throaty warbles to a crisp falsetto. This song also provided an opportunity for the backing band to shine, as the song climaxes with huge, stadium-style instrumentals.
Morrissey did save a fair amount of his intensity for the end of the show. “It’s horrible when you drive around and you see so much road kill,” he said. “If it were politicians I wouldn’t mind.” This apparently was the segue into “Meat is Murder,” off of the Smiths album of the same name. And Meat is Murder got real – throughout the seven or eight minutes of the performance, which clearly elicited the most passion from Morrissey of any song of the evening, there were a series of graphic video clips from factory farms and kill floors. One moment, a shot of cute baby chicks was shown, then just a few seconds later, adult chickens were shown being slashed with knives and put en masse onto conveyor belts. I was standing near the back of the theater, and saw several people move to the lobby to wait for the video to finish, while other audience members cheered at odd moments. A PETA representative handed me a flyer with a picture of Morrissey hugging an animal. Not subtle, this one.
After that great time, Morrissey rebounded a bit of the audience’s energy with “The National Front Disco,” the most driving and uptempo song of the evening. He left the stage after a brisk 75 minutes, coming back quickly to perform another Smiths song, “Asleep.” Thankfully the images of animals being slashed were replaced by handsome young men, a much more soothing sight.
Morrissey ended the evening by breathlessly telling the audience, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” And despite the security, the heat, the brevity of the show, and some intense imagery, they responded in kind. Hopefully he remembers Lawrence more fondly than Lincoln.
Setlist (approximate, please leave changes/additions in the comments)
One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell
Speedway
Ganglord
I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris
Earth Is the Loneliest Planet
Everyday Is Like Sunday
The Bullfighter Dies
Hand in Glove (The Smiths)
The Youngest Was the Most Loved
Life Is a Pigsty
Trouble Loves Me
World Peace Is None of Your Business
Yes, I Am Blind
Meat Is Murder (The Smiths)
The National Front Disco
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Asleep (The Smiths)
First of the Gang to Die
