Morrissey at the Paramount!

Tara and I waited in line and bought tickets for the great angst love of our lives, Mr. Steven Patrick Morrissey for the Kill Uncle tour in June of 1991. Oh how we anxiously awaited that day at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley, CA for Our Hero to emerge, hopefully shirtless, to flail his body to and fro, and possibly writhe a bit on the ground. It was an awesome day. We got there early, we did our proper fan waiting, and at last, after a fine performance by Phranq (whom we actually kind of liked), Morrissey was there. In the flesh. Sweaty and crooney and lovely. We screamed and sang and danced and at one point in time he said to us, “Good evening San Francisco” and we screamed even though we were in Berkeley. 47 minutes after he entered our field of vision, he left. With only 4 words deviating from his play list, we were disappointed and exuberant. 47 minutes was better than no minutes. To make up for the short set, we bought t-shirts.

Fast forward some bit of time. Say, just shy of 16 years. Add about 50 pounds to Our Hero the Suedehead (okay, and me too), and put us in row NN at the Paramount Theater in Oakland, CA and suddenly, it’s last night. For $263 in total, Tara and I went quasi back in time. All we needed was: 2 tickets to see the man who knew our pain better than anyone when we were in high school, 1 tank of gas, 2 pair of earplugs, one cheeseburger, one chicken sandwich, one large coke and 4 glasses of really cheap $6 champagne.

Here’s what I learned about fitting in with the crowd of our “peers”: our hair was not dyed enough, our skin not tatooed enough, our bangs not short enough, our outfits were neither black nor retro enough, we did not smoke enough, and if we had been men, we were sadly lacking in thick dark rimmed glasses and sideburns. It was a serious flashback, but we wondered…did the people at this show dress like this still, or was it simply a momentary revival in the spirit of it all? Did the men remember how to do their hair just so (the ones who still have hair), and did the women just happen to fit their blue with tiny white polka dotted dresses from years passed and spontaneously cut their bangs short and painted on their eyebrows for that evening? We couldn’t tell. We could tell that we were insignificant, and that was absolutely fine by us. We were there to observe, and reminisce and Tara challenged me to find someone I knew since no matter where we go I ALWAYS run into someone I know, but I rebelled and specifically didn’t LOOK for anyone I knew. Because that’s what Morrissey is all about. Only kidding. I have no idea what I’m talking about. But I do know that he played Everyday is Like Sunday and Panic! and The Queen is Dead and How Soon is Now, and Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (forever associated with Duckie Dale) and I kept looking sideways at Tara to see how happy she was which somehow made me even happier.

Funny thing is, we never “fit” into any crowd back then, so it was nice to see some things just hadn’t changed…including the fact that we may not have ever physically “fit in” to the mod crowd, but you know, no one ever really cared.

Note: Morrissey did bare his sweaty torso for us in very very angst-ridden I am repulsive behold me fashion. He also spent a large amount of the end of his show writhing (Like, on the set list it said “riff while Morrissey writhes – 16 8 counts”) and lying in angsty depression on the stage with the occasional hip thrust and gyration. Tara and I had to confer right there to try to ascertain if this was “for real” (Morrissey being 47 years old now), and the audience didn’t know really what to make of it (though the crowd of his followers in the front were going crazy).

Morrissey played for over an hour and a half. Double what we got in 1991! It was one of my favorite nights of my life, and mostly because I was there with Tara. Best friends rock.

By the way, my jaw was KILLING me on the way home. I must have done more work singing and screaming along than my jaw has experienced in a while. I’m going to say it was therapy. This is the last blog I will ever post (yeeahhhhhh!) No I’ve changed my mind again (aaawwwwwwwwww) Good night, and Thank you.

4 Responses to “Morrissey at the Paramount!”

  1. Jose says:

    like the song says, “but don’t forget the songs that made you cry/and the songs that saved your life/yes, you’re older now/and you’re a clever swine/but they were the only ones who ever stood by you…”

    anyway, aww. this post rocked. i’ve seen mozzer four times now and in june, it’ll be the fourth. it never gets old, and it’s kinda ironic how as mopey as the lyrics are, to me, it’s still invigorating – bringing back the overall great feelings of younger times when life was not as slow and boring, and everything had some drama to it.

    anyway, your post also reminded me of this clip of this fan totally sobbing and falling apart on air while talking to morrissey when he was at kroq in 1991.

    Oh my God! Morrissey! You’re like – you’re like so special and your songs so like, SPEAK TO ME, you know?! And everyone wonders why I like you so much?! I mean, not everybody, but like kids my own age, because I’m like thirteen, everybody’s listening to New Kids On the Block-stuff and wearing THOSE STUPID SHINY BLACK SHOES?! And, um, [pause, sob] and it’s just, I don’t know, it’s just [crying even more] YOU’RE SO SPECIAL! And you’re the best singer ever [full-on crying and falling apart]! And I almost wanted to go do… I mean, I almost got to your concert, and I was so mad when I didn’t get to it when, and it mean [sic], it sold out in twenty minutes and I…I felt like… OH GOD! YOU’RE JUST SO SPECIAL! I’M SO HAPPY THAT LIKE YOU’RE GONNA HEAR THIS [sic]… OH GOD! I’M SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO GET THROUGH, AND…. I LO@$%$#%$@%^@$%&VE YOUUU!!!! OH MY GOD!

  2. Jose says:

    ack! i meant in june, it’ll be the 5th!

  3. Matthew says:

    Here’s my 1991 flash-back:
    Amy, Angela and I waited up all night for Morrissey tix in 1991 and managed to back into a car on our way out of the Wherehouse parking lot on North Lake. I will certainly never forget that experience, or the extra job I had to take that summer to pay for the damage. Somehow it was all worth it just for that night . . . probably the first time in my life when I realized the sincere and unblinking injustice of the cruel universe. We waited up all night and they went ahead and did a lottery anyway so our tickets sucked.

    Then at the actual show at Pauley Pavillion the crowd rioted and the show lasted all of 20 minutes, and I was one those throwing bricks at the pigs and looting the t-shirts and Morrissey paraphenalia until they came in with tear gas. My first experience with American-style rioting and looting prior to the 1992 Uprising. That night, I didn’t even end up with a tshirt tho, and had to buy a badly silkscreened one from an African immigrant in the parking lot for $10.

    Flash forward to 2007 – I missed SPM this time around – too busy, too many kids, and suprisingly unwilling to part with the $125 for the arena tickets (no decent big venues in the San Jose metroplex, anyway). Thanks for this post, though – it made me feel as though I could have been there . . . brought back the nostalgia and the feelings of not-ever-ever fitting in, and yet without the buzz of cheap champagne and the residual cigarrette smoke stench in my hair and clothes.
    God, I must sound old and dried up – hopefully my former self in some parallel universe doesn’t invent time/interdimensional travel and come kill me now.

  4. Chris says:

    Hey Matt,

    I was at the Pauley show too- unbelievable! I tossed the LA Times article on it several years ago, but glad to see a friend of Shelby’s was witness to the unlikeliest of riot scenarios! I do have a cassette copy of the live concert KROQ aired from the Hammersmith Odeon in 91 which is a great show. I will try to rip it to hard drive and get Shelby a cd copy.

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