According to the NME, this is the best album of all time, and arguably The Smiths‘ greatest. It is the sound of the band delivering on their promise. The promise of Morrissey’s lyrical intent and Marr’s innovative guitar. The promise of independent swagger without the machismo (although still enough ego to sink a ship), the promise of late nights swooning over M’s mournful tenor and soaking up all the knowing references to 1960s social culture. But everyone already knows everything about The Smiths and this album, so I’m not going to attempt to repeat, but rather briefly divulge what it meant to me at the time of it’s release in 1986: Almost, completely, nothing. I was 13 in 1986 and not a Smiths fan. I was wowed by Queen at Live Aid, tentatively exploring the hallowed halls of Prog Rock with Genesis and being inappropriately turned on by Prince. Morose Manchester indie pop was not my thing. But then, three years later, I got to know someone from school who was also travelling the 20 miles by train to get out of our small-minded little market town and study our A levels in the big bad city. She was different, she looked cool, she was studying art; I was in awe. She was a big Smiths fan, and wore a T-shirt print of this album cover like a uniform. I’d heard Bigmouth Strikes Again and The Boy With the Thorn in His Side on the radio of course. I’d vaguely enjoyed them at the time but didn’t appreciate Bigmouth fully until bopping around at the ‘indie disco’ once I was 16/17 and finally able to go to such distinguished social events. But it was There Is a Light That Never Goes Out that really caught my ear and made me fully appreciate what The Smiths had gifted the world. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. #thesmiths @thesmithsofficial #thequeenisdead #thereisalightthatnevergoesout #bigmouthstrikesagain #somegirlsarebiggerthanothers #vinyl #recordcollection #nowplaying #nowlistening #randomrecordreview https://www.instagram.com/p/CHnIK5hp--U/?igshid=1cu1p70b7npw5
