We all know someone who worships at the altar of The Smiths. I’m not sure that I can entirely blame them—there’s a biblical sense of perfection to the band. Two virtuosic, exactly complementary musical minds coming together with an immediate artistic vision and the precise tools to execute it. It was a band by immaculate conception, free from the original sin of needing any time at all to figure out what the fuck they were doing. On impact, it was jangly, verbose guitar pop with an obscure, colorized movie still to pull it all together.

Call me a blasphemer, but I don’t prescribe to this line of thinking. The Smiths are a great band. I’d even go so far as to call them an amazing one. Their four-album run and slew of non-album singles were truly some era-defining shit for indie music in the ’80s. But they’re not a perfect band, neither in their aesthetics nor in their execution of said aesthetics. And I don’t think there’s an album in their catalog that displays this imperfection quite like Meat Is Murder, an album clearly convinced of its own greatness while too inconsistent to actually achieve it.

Now, before I get any further: I actually think that Meat Is Murder is a pretty solid album, at least in the macro sense. This tracklist actually features some of their best material, and the album has some great highlights to show for it. The opener “The Headmaster Ritual'' strikes a deft balance between a shimmering melodic sensibility and Morrisey’s chilling portrait of British education. “I Want The One I Can’t Have” feels like a smash hit that never was, with its sticky refrains and guitar lines approaching “This Charming Man” levels of memorability. The waltzing “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” is an amazing, swirling centerpiece to the record. And then there’s “Well I Wonder,” which might be one of the band’s best songs, period. The track is a bleakly gorgeous ballad with the Smiths-ian dramatics turned up to ten (“Do you hear me when you sleep? / I hoarsely cry / Do you see me when we pass? / I half-die”). It’s a reminder that nobody writes an anthem of unrequited love quite like Marr and Morrissey.

Undoubtedly, Meat Is Murder has great ideas. It’s a Smiths album, so of course it does. But I think that the album just has too many tracks where the ideas aren’t executed up to the band’s typically lofty standards. I’ll be the first to confess my love for the post-punk groove on “Barbarism Begins At Home,” but the track doesn’t have nearly enough progression or dynamics to justify it running seven minutes long. And although I enjoy (at least, in concept) the blitzkrieg performance by the band on “What She Said,” I can’t help but feel like the muddy mix and scant song structure would both be improved on the faster-paced moments of their subsequent albums.

And then there are the spots on this album that really sink its enjoyability for me, where ill-conceived ideas and lackluster execution come together in a really unflattering way. I’ve always found the more rockabilly-inspired moments on this album (“Rusholme Ruffians,” “Nowhere Fast”) to be incompatible with the band’s musical strengths. The former is just too noodly and directionless to have any sort of impact, and the latter’s clash of swinging rock riffs and more typical jangly passages is something I’m glad the band never attempted again.

Not to mention that this record closes with the album’s title track, which is a strong contender for the worst song The Smiths ever laid onto one of their core albums. Is this what The Smiths sound like to people who hate their music? The genuine theatricality that usually makes their songs so special is traded in for cheap shock, their poeticism swapped out for unabashed sloganeering. And, at six minutes long, it isn’t merciful either.

As sour a taste as the closer leaves, I think that Meat Is Murder is definitely a worthwhile listen on the power of its highlights alone. Some of The Smith’s most essential material lands on this album, no doubt about it. These standouts are just too few and far between, and the rest of the tracklist features either: 1) ideas that were done better on other Smiths projects or 2) ideas that should have never landed on a Smiths project at all. For the hardcore fans—well, the hardcore fans have probably already heard and adore this record. But for the uninitiated and curious listener: go listen to The Queen Is Dead. Then go listen to the debut. Then check out one of the compilations. And maybe check out an R.E.M. record or two. If you’re still pining for more, Meat Is Murder will be here waiting.

Rating: B-

User Rating: Not Yet Rated

---

Comments