This article was taken from Launch.com...enjoy! Launch.com article (by Dave DiMartino) The most compelling British pop star of the '80s, Morrissey (b. Stephen Patrick Morrissey, May 22, 1959, Manchester, England) and his legendary pop group the Smiths were responsible for some of the most thought-provoking and intelligent rock 'n' roll of the post-punk era. Always quotable, always enmeshed in controversies regarding song lyrics or deliberately provocative public statements, Morrissey proved to be the wisest manipulator of the press since David Bowie had invented Ziggy Stardust a decade earlier. While the group's superstardom in Britain vastly exceeded their fame in the United States, their initial cult following--which began with their eponymous 1984 debut--steadily grew through their 1987 demise; it has since continued to snowball as Morrissey began his even more lucrative solo career. Beginning with 1988's Viva Hate, which attained a higher chart position than any of the Smiths' work, Morrissey's American popularity has blossomed, even while slightly fading in his homeland; by 1992, the onetime cult figure was releasing top 30 albums and filling venues no less prestigious than the Hollywood Bowl. What made the Smiths very special to so many was, of course, the consistently high quality of the group's songs; with the pairing of singer Morrissey, who provided the lyrics, and guitarist Johnny Marr, who composed the wonderfully varied and multi-textured music, the group boasted one of the finest songwriting teams in pop. Yet in a sense that consistency has hampered the artistic development of Morrissey's own career. Whether playing hard-charging rock, Byrds-y folk melodies, or English Music Hall-inspired pop, the Smiths built a repertoire that, however eclectic, seemed all of one piece. But without Marr, Morrissey's lyrics have accompanied music written by a diverse crop of writers including Stephen Street, Kevin Armstrong, Clive Langer, Mark Nevin, and most recently, Alain Whyte--none of whom have yet to display Marr's craft at writing catchy, memorable pop hooks. As a result, Morrissey's output has been noticeably inconsistent in both sound and style. (I, Maribel, must interrupt this review and say I love Morrissey and that I do not agree that he is any less without The Smiths.) One place Morrissey has yet to fall short, however, has been in his lyrics; he remains one of best wordsmiths in pop music. Early in the Smiths' career he drew attention for his unusual practice of writing songs that were deliberately sexually ambiguous--that often spoke in the second person, to a "you" that could be either male or female, all open to personal interpretation. "It's an absolutely intentional move," the singer said in 1985. "It has to be that way. Because I think all the great writers that I ever liked were writers who spoke for everybody. I don't like it when there's this separatism, that certain groups can be put into absolutely defined categories, that this group could only possibly appeal to men, or women, or a certain sex." Morrissey's lyrical abilities may rank among the highest, but his way with song titles is absolutely unmatched; his best tell an entire story in only a few words, often humorously, while reinforcing his persona as a determined miserablist. Among the best: "I Want The One I Can't Have," "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me," "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others," "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore," "There's a Place In Hell For Me And My Friends," "(I'm) The End Of The Family Line," "You're The One For Me, Fatty," and "We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful." A onetime music journalist prior to the Smiths, Morrissey clearly knows the value of a good headline. Still, if he were merely clever, but incapable of writing songs that deeply touched their audience, Morrissey would not have developed the rabidly loyal fan base he now enjoys. The best of his lyrics paint small, purposely ambiguous pictures that allow the listener to devise his or her own story, to fill in the blanks and draw their own conclusions. One of his finest songs, "This Night Has Opened My Eyes," recorded with the Smiths in 1984, illustrates the point superbly: "In a river the color of lead/Immerse the baby's head/Wrap her up in the News Of The World/Dump her on a doorstep, girl/This night has opened my eyes/And I will never sleep again." The song's chorus contains two final lines, "And I'm not happy/And I'm not sad," that concisely convey a depth of emotion--or, literally, a lack of it--that few other artists could begin to approach, let alone match. "Sometimes people come up to me and say, well obviously this song is about whatever," Morrissey noted in 1985, "and it's a completely erroneous, unintelligent interpretation that they've put on the song. But that's the risk that has to be taken. For me, it's good enough that people just actually think about the songs, regardless of what conclusion they come to about them. And I know that people do think about the words a great deal, because they tell me so. And ultimately, that's the biggest prize of all."