All the baggage that accompanies divas met Morrissey at the close of the first edition of the Barts Festival (68.000 tickets sold) at the Poble Espanyol in Barcelona, almost full on that last night. There were fans who waited at the door since the day before, a fact generally only typical of large venues. There were fixed ideas, such as the imposition of a vegan diet in the bars dependent on the festival, or that proud quixotic act of writing to the President of the Government, Pedro Sánchez, to ban bullfighting. There was brand image, the open shirt showing chest, the playful use of towels and handkerchiefs to wipe away sweat, the wandering around the stage, as well as a poetic affectation and a truly beautiful moment, a downpour violently and briefly discharging while How Soon Is Nowplayed with its guitar tremolo. But there was also a concert, something that doesn’t always happen with Morrissey, twenty generally exquisite pop songs and an artist in form who this time didn’t overly lecture his audience morally, already old enough to have their own convictions and not be scolded. A Morrissey who rescued the best of himself for an audience that experienced a night to which the rain gifted moments of uncomfortable beauty.
Read more Spain once again misses out on gold at the World Cup
It began with a muddled sound that barely allowed the star’s voice to be heard, overshadowed by guitars and drums. Billy Budd,with Morrissey shaking the tambourine, I Just Want To See The Boy Happy and The Youngets Was The Most Loved suffered this start until the voice finally prevailed, with the permission of the songs, a central argument for the artist. That phrasing, that melancholy, that theatrical tone reinforced by his gestures as a person who lives with passion and who elegantly explains his feelings with passion, that fragility not exempt from determination and strength, began to shine and accompanied the concert until its end. At the beginning, The Smiths were not long in appearing, with A Rush And A Push And The Land Is Oursplaying right after Kerching Kerching, a piece from his latest work, which passed through the stage with four other compositions. One of them, Notre-Dame,slipped inquestions and speculations very much in the style of Cuarto Milenio, in that argumentative back and forth that led Morrissey to conjecture about the end of our world as an obvious thing of which we are all aware; to suggest that we don’t look at news and that we only believe what our eyes see, like Saint Thomas; to champion Oscar Wilde amidst biting guitars in The Monsters Of Pig Alley,and to insist on his opposition to bullfighting through videos of pornographic violence, including Julio Aparicio’s goring, which demonstrated in The Bullfighters Daythat delicacy does not seem useful to Morrissey when denouncing something he stubbornly detests. Incidentally, he ironically suggested that this song could be the new Spanish anthem. By the way, the bass drum patch had the red and yellow painted on it.
In the flow of the night, which went from hot to cool, forcing Morrissey to button up the second shirt he wore, The Smiths’ inexhaustible source of hits was regulated to four songs, in addition to those mentioned, the delicate I Know It’s Overfiltering through the already falling water and the final There Is A Light That Never Goes Out, which, like the entire second half of the concert, was accompanied by the magnificent spectacle of a sky fleetingly illuminated by the lightning of a summer storm. And speaking of lighting, mobile phone screens dotted The Smiths’ songs with their little lights, a way to retain past years in memory, after quite some time. But it wasn’t just The Smiths that were enjoyed, as already in The First Gang To Die the audience danced with restraint, just as in Zoom Zoom The Little Boy, the best-received piece from his latest work, Suedeheadand its interwoven guitars, deserving, like Everyday Is Like Sunday, of the attention of hundreds of mobile phones recording the moment. And as is usual on the tour, Morrissey performed more or less the same songs, although completely altering their order between an invariable beginning and end, a way to introduce change, dynamism, and arguments to avoid the routine of always doing the same thing, a way to prevent the usual from becoming eternally boring.
Read more The fire in southwestern France gains ground and forces new mass evacuations
For the finale, with an abrupt march to the dressing rooms before the encore, a fade to black after Jack The Ripper that left the audience cold, Morrissey, already in a T-shirt, acted like a diva with capital letters, as he took it off, proudly and delightedly showed his torso and with a flourish wiped his sweat with the garment before throwing it to the audience. It would have been deserved by whoever was at the door since the day before, although Morrissey’s visit to them was already enough of a prize. In any case, that T-shirt will never be washed, it carries the scent of a star.
Read more Protecting Casavieja from the fire devil