Ain't that a kick in the head?

I going to cut right to the chase - I've been to quite a few concerts in my day and the Morrissey show I attended this past Tuesday at the Bank of American Pavilion in Boston was by far the worst.

Let me start by saying that I am not a huge fan of Morrissey. I am familiar with The Smiths and am fond of a few of their songs, but I haven't really followed Morrissey's solo career. My girlfriend, however, is a fan. So when her friend Bill told her about the show and asked if we wanted to get tickets, I said sure. I thought it would be a fun concert experience and, who knows, maybe I would walk away a fan.

Unfortunately, it just wasn't meant to be. In fact, I think Mr. Steven Patrick Morrissey did just about everything in his power to make sure that I didn't leave the show a fan.

Things started off on the wrong foot the moment we walked through the front gate. We were all hungry - my girlfriend and I had rushed to the concert after I got off work, so neither one of us had a chance to eat dinner. As we stood in line at the concession stand, I looked over the menu and decided to get myself two slices of overpriced pepperoni pizza. However, when I got up to the counter, my hopes and dreams were dashed. I was informed that at the request of the artist, they weren't serving meat.

For those of you who don't know, Morrissey is a hardcore vegan and has been since a young age. He once said in an interview, "If you love animals, obviously it doesn't make sense to hurt them." Yeah, whatever. What I love is steak, chicken and pepperoni, so to me, eating animals makes perfect sense. Besides, they would eat you if they could. Don't believe me? Ask Siegfried and Roy.

So, I was already annoyed by Morrissey's pretentious belief that just because I paid a substantial amount of money to see him perform that he had the right to dictate what I was and wasn't allowed to eat, but I let it slide. After all, cheese pizza is still quite delicious.

But Morrissey earned strike two when I headed back to the concession stand for a bottle of water. When I went up to the counter, the guy working the concession stand took the water from the bottle and poured it into a plastic cup. Now, I had never been to the Bank of America Pavilion before, so I would have just assumed this was their policy, but the concession stand guy made sure to tell me, "The artist has requested that we not use plastic bottles." The concession stand guy made sure to say this with a tone that conveyed just how ridiculous he thought the idea was, which was highly amusing.

I'm not really sure what Morrissey has against plastic bottles. Maybe he just loves them so much that it doesn't make sense to hurt them either.

Still, at this point, while I was slightly annoyed at all of Morrissey's rules, I admit that these are both petty gripes and, had the rest of the night gone smoothly, I would have had no problem overlooking these minor inconveniences.

The opening act, Kristeen Young, came out and performed an incredibly lackluster set. My girlfriend, Bill and I didn't even bother to take our seats. Instead, we hung out at one of the tables on the outskirts of the pavilion, talking and people-watching. I created a fun game where I tried to decide if middle-aged yuppie couples in the crowd were grown-up Smiths fans or parents forced to drive their teenaged son or daughter to the concert.

When Kristeen Young wrapped things up, we made our way to our seats. After an overly-long and monotonous intro, Morrissey and his band hit the stage and went into "The Queen is Dead." Then, one or two songs later, Morrissey told us that he had performed on David Letterman's show the night before (the performance airs tomorrow night) and after performing in Letterman's frigid studio, his voice was really bothering him. He said that his voice was cracking, but honestly, I thought he sounded fine.

After his seventh song, "Let Me Kiss You," Morrissey ripped off his shirt and threw it into the crowd. Then, he left the stage. We assumed that he had headed to the dressing room to find another shirt, since his band was still standing there waiting for him, but then he never came back. After five awkward minutes, someone from the venue came out and explained that the show was canceled due to Morrissey's voice problems and that it would have to be rescheduled at a later date. Adding to our frustrations was the venues' comically bad choice to play Frank Sinatra's "That's Life" as they tore down the set and everyone headed for the exits. Thanks for rubbing our noses in it, you dicks.

It was at this point that I suddenly understood Morrissey's "no plastic bottles" policy because, if I had a plastic bottle in my hand at that moment, I would have thrown it at the stage. I'm not discounting the fact that Morrissey had a serious problem with his vocal chords, but to just storm off the stage without even the common courtesy to tell your fans what's going on is such a slap in the face to everyone who paid money to see you. Man up and make the announcement yourself - don't send someone else to do your dirty work. Or if your voice hurts too much, then write it down and have a band member read it to us - anyone but the drummer should be able to handle that.

Besides, how damaging could David Letterman's studio really have been to his throat? Sure, it was cold in there, but drink some tea, put on a sweater or something. He sang one song, so it's not like he has to be out there for an extended period of time. David Letterman is an old man who has battled shingles and heart problems and he is out there every night for an hour without any serious repercussions. Could five minutes have really been that damaging to Morrissey?

You know who gets sick because a room is too cold - my grandmother. Seriously, that's a problem for elderly women, not a man in his late 40s. Perhaps his immune system is seriously weakened after years of not eating meat (who says there's no such thing as karma?).

I'm not trying to make light of whatever illness Morrissey may have (okay, maybe I am), but I just think that he handled things in the worst possible way. If his voice was really that bad, he never should have done the show in the first place. He could have saved us all a trip and simply rescheduled the show for a time when he was feeling better. Otherwise, he could have soldiered on and finished the show. It's what a musician who actually cared about the fans would have done.

One of the first concerts I ever went to was Garth Brooks Fresh Horses tour 1996, when I was 15. Garth Brooks had been battling voice problems of his own, but instead of canceling the show, he went out and performed like nothing was wrong. He did the same high-impact show he was known for, which included running around the stage the entire night. By the end of the show, he could barely speak, let alone sing. But he didn't want to disappoint the fans.

My brother attended the Summer Sanitarium Tour in 2000, which featured Metallica, Korn, Kid Rock, Powerman 5000 and System of a Down. Unfortunately, James Hetfield threw out his back during an earlier stop on the tour and was unavailable when the show came to town. However, instead of simply canceling the show and screwing over the fans, Kid Rock and the guys from Korn pitched in on the vocals and the headline portion of the show turned into a jam session.

Morrissey's voice was nowhere near as bad as Garth Brooks' and, even if it was, he could have taken the Metallica approach and had the rest of the band do a jam session with his opening act, the fans or even the concession stand guy singing the vocals for him. He could have done anything besides walking off the stage with no notice and sending a lackey out to cancel the show for him and I would have respected him more. Even if he flicked off the fans and said, "Fuck this, you aren't worth me damaging my voice," I would have at least respected the honesty.

On the way home, we stopped at Burger King and I ordered a bacon double cheeseburger out of spite. I had to fight the urge to find Morrissey's hotel and throw meat at him like Jeremy Piven does to the protestors in PCU.

Hopefully, the show will get rescheduled and he will make things right with his fans, but I'm not holding my breath. After all, that's life.

Random Thought of the Week:
Dear Live Free or Die Hard,

Please don't suck.

Cheers,
Joel

Joel Murphy is the creator of HoboTrashcan, which is probably why he has his own column. He also has some really hot friends. You can contact him at murphyslaw@hobotrashcan.com.