As great first albums go, The Smiths remains a perfect bedsitter moment, cultivated from a batch of Morrissey’s diaries then uplifted and exonerated on Johnny Marr’s guitar. Their juxtaposing of a lopsided grin of gloom and the light doodling of an almost always perfectly placed guitar was virtually unheard of. Marr just jangled in and out like a dog at a fair (Pete Frame acknowledged). Reference points were rare, apart from Morrissey’s adopted Oscar Wilde demeanour, to which the press clung with a morbid fascination. It remains a delicate set of knowing quiffs and rounded, innocent eyes, beguiling the listener with some wonderfully crafted pop - when they weren’t laughing behind their hands.
Tracks: Reel Around The Fountain; You’ve Got Everything Now; Miserable Lie; Pretty Girls Make Graves; The Hand That Rocks The Cradle; Still III; Hand In Glove; What Difference Does It Make?; I Don’t Owe You Anything; Suffer Little Children....