Bold truth-teller or cantankerous curmudgeon? That question has long framed Morrissey’s solo career, but in recent years the balance that once made his work compelling—acerbic wit tempered by genuine melancholy—has curdled into something combative and relentlessly self-important. His long-delayed 14th album, Make-Up Is a Lie, confirms that the Morrissey grievance machine remains fully operational, propelled by the theatrical bombast of a man who appears to have stopped listening to anyone but himself.
Even if one were to accept that Morrissey has long since surrendered to his persona, and to grant the premise that his worldview is rooted in “feelings as facts,” there would still need to be real substance in his songs for any of it to matter. Instead, Make-Up Is a Lie rarely rises above the level of a Facebook-posting uncle who watches too much Tucker Carlson. (The less said about Moz’s flirtation with right-wing conspiracy theories, especially an entire song framing the 2019 Notre-Dame fire as a coordinated anti-Christian attack, the better.)
The album’s opening lines offer an early glimpse of the so-called “radical honesty” on display: “I want to move away from those who stare at screens all day/I want to speak up and to not be trapped by censorship.” When he isn’t aiming at specific targets—including rock critic Lester Bangs, who receives a diss track delivered nearly 45 years after his death—Morrissey’s songwriting devolves into a kind of free association, as if trying to extract meaning from pure syntax (which may explain his apparent disinterest in crafting memorable hooks).
The way Morrissey practically purrs out “I don’t like you” on “Headache” or the myriad ways he bellows the title of the operatic “Boulevard” generates more emotional resonance than the thinly sketched narratives and lifeless characters that pop up in “Night Pop Dropped” and “The Monsters of Pig Alley.” Which is a shame, since this is one of his most musically eclectic albums in years, proof that he still has a sharp ear for arrangements.
Indeed, a wild guitar solo tears through an otherwise pedestrian cover of Roxy Music’s “Amazonia,” jangling sitars snake across “Zoom Zoom the Little Boy,” and the aforementioned “Boulevard” opens with scattered strings and grand piano before steadily building melodrama for more than five minutes. Yet all of it is marshaled toward borderline masturbatory ends. If anything, the boldest truth Make-Up Is a Lie ends up telling is about itself: that Morrissey still has plenty to say, but not much of it is new.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
“The less said about Moz’s flirtation with right-wing conspiracy theories, the better”
Yet Attard still mentions it. The critical elite just cannot help themselves with signalling their leftist credentials.
Note: i am probably further to the left than Slant writers!
Calling out debunked right wing conspiracy theories doesn’t translate to someone being leftist. It just means they have common sense.
I can’t hear a thing you’re saying over the sound of my yawn. But, then, you clearly didn’t have a point anyway. If Morrissey wants to destroy his credibility? That’s the cross he must then bear. Tough shit, huh? But that’s the biz.
Yes, it’s a terrible album. Not that I expect anything much from the Moz anymore. But I think Paul has the wrong end of the stick with his description of the song “Lester Bangs” as a “diss track”. It’s actually a song of admiration for Bangs, and Morrissey is saying how he hung on his every word as a self-described young nerd, “when all my life was wrong”, and loved what he wrote about Roxy Music and The New York Dolls. In fact, it’s nice to see the old curmudgeon finally having a good word to say about someone, when elsewhere he appears so set on whingeing about everyone who he feels are persecuting him. But, I repeat, terrible album, and I’m sure Lester would agree.
My apologies to Paul. I only read their bio after making my comment and then realised I misgendered them. Sorry Paul.