johnny marr

Along with Peter Buck, Johnny Marr did the most to inject jingle jangle back into guitar based music in the 80s. I have a lot of ambivalence when it comes to 80s music. By the second half of the decade, the ultra-processed and murky-to-the-point-of-being-unlistenable vibe was de rigueur in the world of pop.  Even bands I really admire, like Husker Du, REM and Soul Asylum, were wrapping themselves in thick layers of tin foil. The Smiths were no exception to this, but the ringing 12-string goodness of Johnny Marr’s guitar breaks through the muffled production value and transports you back to the warmer glowing sound of 60s pop, calling to mind the best records from the Move, the Byrds, the Hollies, the Beatles… If jangly arpeggios are your thang the way they’re my thang, then Johnny Marr is your jam.  He’s my jam.  Of course, you still have to deal with Morrissey. His pose made sense to me when I was a 16-year-old chronic masturbator, but nowadays I just feel like I’m listening to some overwrought asexual sad sack (who, it should be added, loves being an overwrought asexual sad sack and wants you to love his being so, too).  But it doesn’t matter because the melodies are what I listen for when it comes to the Smiths, along with Marr’s guitar playing.  I don’t care who the damn singer is or what he’s singing about. I don’t even care that the Smiths basically made music for obese teenage girls. These kinds of ancillary considerations wither away when the sound Johnny Marr's intricate magic is chiming out from my speakers...