Morrissey "Ringleader of the Tormentors"
All you emo kids take notice: daddy's home.
"'Ringleader Of The Tormentors' is the eighth album from theiconic Mancunian vocalist Morrissey. In a departure from his previous albums, Morrissey has chosen to incorporate Morricone-esque strings and arrangements into his songs, making for a more sweeping and cinema-esque sound, whilst lyrically his usual themes of rejection and redemption are still present, which should ensure that this album will repeat the success of his 2004 'comeback' album, 'You Are The Quarry'. Includes the single 'You Have Killed Me'. "
According to the Observer this is the best solo album Morrissey has ever done:
Morrissey, Ringleader of the Tormentors
Please please please let him get what he wants, begs Paul Morley: this is the troubled wordsmith's greatest solo album yet
When Morrissey sings, you don't necessarily hear violins. You hear supernatural disgust, sublime selfishness, pathological vulnerability, aching bones, solemn petulance, a numbed survivor's vituperative testimony to catastrophes that are scarcely distinguishable - but nothing particularly smooth and consoling. Funnily enough, on his latest album, you hear a lot of violins, soaring above kingdoms of the non-living, embracing sad stories twice told, shadowing Morrissey's commitment to thoroughly explaining himself without giving anything away. He must be in love, if only in a hateful sort of way.
Ringleader is the story of a life all his other songs have only hinted at - it has a kind of exhilarating, intimate Blood on the Tracks suddenness the way it appears after years of him never quite out-doing his early classic work and sometimes seemingly trapped inside his own myth. From the day he was born, through the streets of Manchester, out into the mean world of sinister places and demanding people, to the day he never actually died - it's all here. Fans of Morrissey, and maybe a few enemies, will have all their prayers answered - a whole album of songs that rock, drone and swing in the way his best songs - Smiths or not - do between the strangely familiar and the completely unfamiliar. A coherent collection dedicated to love and death, to sex and killing, to gravely arranged copulation, to festering flamboyantly, to having Ennio Morricone add lurid, stately ambience and nudge him to the edge of the epic, to perverse tenderness, to ecstatic despair, to soiled optimism and elaborate pessimism, to a future that ends with a long, long sleep. This is the album where Morrissey tells us - and there are those who've been waiting for this moment for 23 years - that he's 'spreading your legs with mine in between'. It's horribly beautiful.
As if it is us he loves for loving him again, he rewards us with 12 wilfully harrowing songs crowded with verbal brilliance. Twelve songs about ordeals - and love is the greatest ordeal of all for Morrissey, something else that will die - to be endured. Songs with titles like 'Dear God, Please Help Me', 'You Have Killed Me', 'Life is a Pigsty', 'To Me You Are a Work if Art', 'At Last I am Born'...