| It’s what makes
converting to Morrissey such a pleasure: there’s so much digging
to do! The imperative voice of “make our tea”: who besides
Morrissey, and maybe a hair-metal band or three, would dare such a
thing? Pop songs tend to invite, or coax, or coerce, not set their
feet up on the table and call for their attendants. Much less the
evidently unwilling attendants of this particular song’s wispy
storyline, which is probably rooted in some Graham Greene fiction
somewhere: who knows? I don’t, and I don’t care, because
I’m really tired, and all I want to do is listen to “Nobody
Loves Us.” I invite you to do the same. |