*Disclaimer, I am writing this piece about Morrissey’s music, not him as a person, or any of his recent statements.
I first heard Morrissey as a vocalist when someone handed me a cassette of *Meat Is Murder*, the legendary Smiths album with the song most of the world remembers them by.
We all know the story: the breakup, Morrissey going solo. That’s where we pick up here.
Morrissey’s next opus drops March 6, 2026. I was supposed to see him in Salt Lake a few months back, but he canceled due to a severe ear infection in both ears. I figured I’d hear some of these tracks that night, but hey—I got them now, and I have to tell you, this album is some of his finest work.
Back in ’98, I met The Smiths producer Grant Showbiz when he was working with Billy Bragg. Grant’s done amazing stuff over the years, and honestly, I thought Morrissey would have to land someone that good on his records. For the last several albums they have been produced by Joe Chiccarelli (the guy who’s worked with everyone from Frank Zappa to Alanis Morissette), and for whatever reason, the production really stands out—it’s elevated the whole thing above so much of his other solo output.
Starting with the album cover art: it looks like he’s caught by surprise, something rushing toward him backstage at a festival. Okay then.
Listening to his 14th solo album—the first since 2020 (though that year he did a one-off single with disco diva Thelma Houston, of whom he’s a big fan. She told me in an interview it was fun to do together, and he was incredibly respectful and professional. I think he went all starry-eyed working with her. Hell, I got star-struck just interviewing her).
“Your Right It’s Time” kicks off with bass and guitar that make me think Fleetwood Mac, then lead guitars sounding a bit like Interpol. The lyrics take over, calling out how people waste time on screens instead of finding real love. He even pops in lines about “shoot the breeze with trees.” I get it—he’s never owned a cellphone. His vocals here give off a surprisingly happy vibe, and for some reason it puts me right in a James Bond movie opening sequence.
“Lester Bangs” is another social commentary on rock & roll history—pointing out how he was glued to the pages Bangs wrote on the other side of the world, and how much it meant to read his takes on Roxy Music or the Dolls when Morrissey’s own life was going wrong as a youth. I just finished “The Uncool” by Cameron Crowe (who was mentored by Bangs), so my own understanding of the guy lines up—apparently Morrissey had something to say about him too.
There’s a song that starts with psychedelic sitar-sounding guitar and a killer bassline: “Zoom Zoom The Little Boy.” Some lyrics:
“Zoom Zoom the little boy
he only thinks about joy
he wants to save every animal
from the arrogant human”
If you know anything about Morrissey, you know where this one’s going—mentioning frogs and hedgehogs.
“Boulevard” lyrically is classic Morrissey lines like “I cling to you, like others cling to lovers,” leaning into his lifelong loneliness theme. But musically? Great acoustic guitar with an almost country feel. The lyrics juxtapose a Western film saloon with an icy bathroom, telling a story around alcohol abuse on “the Boulevard.” It’s dark, somber, operatic even—true to his feelings, but sounding unlike so much of his other work. Be ready for this one; it really pulls you in.
I never thought I’d hear Morrissey do a late-’70s almost-disco vibe. Well, it happens on “The Night Pop Dropped.” Great Hammond organ, KC and the Sunshine Band backdrop. I found myself grooving and swaying in my desk chair the first time I heard it—chimes like Blondie’s “Rapture,” some early Shriekback vibes. “Remembering the night pop dropped, the bar ran dry and the dancers stopped.” You’ll probably get your groove on to this one, though it sounds NOTHING like what you’d expect from him.
Without giving it all away, so many great songs here. But I do feel it’s my duty to say something about “The Monsters of Pig Alley.”
The song tells a story of someone chasing fame, eventually getting it, with the family asking if it was worth it—please come home. The video is harsh: a young man (close enough to James Dean) leaves his almost-Amish father and grieving Russian mother to audition for films, to be “big and famous.” He goes through rounds, lands a part, ends up on TV shows with a young woman straight out of the early ’60s. Like James Dean, it ends badly. The video is beautiful and sad—classic Morrissey genius at pulling heartstrings to show real human emotions and stories.
I’ve been entertained by Morrissey for going on 40 years, and *Make-Up Is a Lie* is hands down, for me, his finest work yet.
The album “Make-Up Is a Lie” comes out this week, March 6, 2026. Love him or hate him, you’ll probably listen—and you’ll probably experience it exactly the way Morrissey wants you to.
Do I need to post his socials here? NO, I think you all know where to find this guy and his work.