“Last time we saw Morrissey, on a rather slapdash Greatest Hits compilation, he was singing a song called “All You Need Is Me” and promising “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.” Neither proposition seemed watertight: His 2000s return to action had been welcome but rarely spectacular, and the man looked set on a twilit career of gently diminishing returns. So Years of Refusal comes as a gratifying shock: It’s his most vital, entertaining, and savage record since 1994’s Vauxhall and I.”

Whether it’s his mystique or prolific ability to rouse a crowd of men in their 40s, everything he has released has been dissected with the accuracy a vegetarian would cringe at.

So enter ‘Years Of Refusal’, Morrissey’s ninth solo album. In a word, it is brilliant. From the joyous, dare I say, optimistic-sounding lead single ‘I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris’, to the upbeat ‘Someone’s Squeezing My Skull’, the album is full of tracks that display a remarkable consistency of quality.

A pinhole portcullis into the world of one of the country’s best humans, the lyrical dexterity and poetical prowess of a man who will be 50 this year hasn’t waned or become diluted with age.

With lyrics nothing less than charming, it’s immensely enjoyable when little quips like “Pigs in grey suits”, “Uncivil servants” and “like a QC full of fake humility” find their way through.

Those who bought last year’s greatest hits collection will already be aware of two of the stronger tracks here. ‘All You Need Is Me’ and ‘That’s How People Grow Up’ both featured on said compilation, and serve as an easy way into what proves to be a very accessible record.

There is a distinct depth to proceedings as the tracks unfold, one by one. From the tender ‘You Were Good In Your Time’ to the grandstand finish of ‘I’m OK By Myself’, the material on show proves that Moz, Boz and company are still working at the top of their game, perhaps even bettering their celebrated recent form.

Diehards will rightly question how ‘Years Of Refusal’ stands up to 2004’s successful ‘You Are The Quarry’ album, and the answer is that it does so brilliantly. Part of this success is down to the production talents of the late Jerry Finn, who passed away last summer; many will also say that the album’s appeal is down to a seemingly happier central protagonist. Rarely has Morrissey sounded so… cheerful.

Those in the market for nostalgia may have better luck watching Carry On films to gain a taste of the forgotten, but as with anything Morrissey, there’s historically-sourced inspiration to be discovered if you explore deep enough. In terms of longevity, all of these tracks have the ability to step up and become your favourite at one time or another. While these sensations will only come with an investment of your time, it’s certainly worth it.

Whether you love or hate Morrissey, it’s hard to listen to this album and not conclude that it’s one of his best as a solo artist. The feeling of rejuvenation that ‘You Are The Quarry’ featured has returned, and the sardonic wit from album eight, 2006’s ‘Ringleader Of The Tormentors’, is fused throughout the album to great effect.

Almost 25 years after The Smiths swept the country off its feet, turning everyone casually vegetarian and leading grown men to sport quiffs for any occasion, ‘Years Of Refusal’ is a welcome addition to an already impressive back catalogue: from beginning to end the pace and quality doesn’t let up.

Some may argue that ‘Years Of Refusal’ lacks the real standout tracks his previous two albums had, but give it a few months and people will be talking about this release with the same kind of reverence that ‘…Quarry’ received.

This lunchtime, Morrissey eyes met mine in the fancy-pants, purple-lit London supper club, The Pigalle, where he met an audience of industry bigwigs and journalists who lie. But why? To introduce to us – and indeed play to us – his new album, Years Of Refusal, which will be released on February 16 next year.

We’ve already debated what on earth that album art is all about, and Morrissey added to the debate by telling us it wasn’t Photoshopped, and that the child on the cover was his own. But what of the music itself? Moz said, with unusual shyness, that he hoped we liked it – before putting his fingers in his ears and running away.

So what did it sound like? On one paltry listen, accompanied by
snacks (sadly not acquired from the Aberdeen Steak House next door), I heard an album bursting at the seams with rocking guitars, ambitious flourishes, and the most lovelorn lyrics Morrissey has written for years. So let’s go through them all.

The opening track is the big, gutsy pop song, Something Is Squeezing My Skull, in which our boy claims, rather boldly, that’s he’s doing “very well”, before rambling about diazepam, temazepam, lithium and HRT. Mama Lay Softly on the Riverbed follows, a song the handsome devil has already premiered live. Its Mama refrain tilts its quiff towards Bohemian Rhapsody; its rollocking drums recall Nancy and Lee, and the middle-eight is full of sonic weirdness and a sound that suggests an elephant in labour. How lovely.

Track three, Black Cloud, begins with the incredible promise of RaveMoz – imagine it! – with a wash of electronic sound and a female vocal that got me hoping that young Stephen had covered Rozalla’s Everybody’s Free. Sadly not, although the song that followed was bruisingly good, setting fire to the chord sequence from Bigmouth Strikes Again with a killer bassline. Then followed his next big single, I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris. “Nobody wants my love/You’ve made yourself very plain”, came the sigh of our boy from the speakers, as we all resisted leaping over the spring rolls to give them a hug.

Then, bizarrely, came All You Need Is Me, an old single that has already featured on Morrissey’s Greatest Hits album. Did its inclusion here suggest a poverty of ideas? Not judging by the next track on the record, the strangely-titled When Last I Spoke To Carol, which saw Morrissey delving into the sounds of mariachi and Morricone. Any thoughts on which Carol he’s banging on about, in a lovelorn fashion, are welcome.

Tracks seven, eight and nine: Another old, tired single, That’s How People Grow Up; the ballsy One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell, with guitars that reminded me, oddly enough, of Europe’s Final Countdown; and the enervating pomp of It’s Not Your Birthday Anymore, which begins with Radiophonic Workshop-style electronics and builds into a chorus the size of Manchester.

Which brings us to the final three. You Were Good In Your Time
is yet another stab at the Ringleaders Of The Tormentors-style
Morrissey doing mortality, but what a stab it is. “Let your heart rest/lay back your head”, he croons, reminding us of his career-high album, Vauxhall and I, before the person he is singing to dies, and the eerie sounds of strings and a long-wave radio takes us through the channels into another world. For too long, mind – two minutes of weird noise would have been much more effective cut down to 30 seconds.

But putting a grand statement at this juncture makes the last two tracks oddly low-key – the mundane titles of Sorry Doesn’t Help and I’m OK By Myself saying much about their contents, which were plodding and uninspired.

So, on first impressions, a decidedly mixed, but somewhat enviable bag. For when Morrissey pulls out the stops on this album, he’s the best he’s been for a long time – full of heart, soul and fire.

Article by Jude Rogers of the Guardian

For instance, a few months ago, we got that aforementioned skull-squeezing opening track along with “Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed” live at La Laiterie in Strasbourg, France. There were also various versions of “That’s How People Grow Up,” All You Need Is Me,” and just before the New Year, “I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris.” The bigger trick was figuring out the proper sequence and over analyzing the album art. All that said, we’ve now listened to Moz’s Ringleader Of The Tormentors followup enough times to weigh in on it as a whole.

We’re unsure what Morrissey’s been refusing to do all these years, but the dozen tracks don’t suggest too much change: We still get the man pining and punning, showcasing his soft and razorsharp sides, and hooking us in with his drama. By and large, Years is an upbeat, concise collection. In fact, a number of the first eight songs are under (or just above) three minutes. It’s the last four songs that are the longest. At their best, these lengthier songs create an epic feeling for the finale, but in the case of the dragging “You Were Good In Your Time,” they can also diminish the punch.

For the most, Morrissey’s performances are enjoyable — he over enunciates, chatters, hooks us in, swoons. A perfect example if the excellent opener “Something Is Squeezing,” wherein he lets us know “there is no hope in modern life,” but that “the motion of taxis excites me.” Well, the motion of this song excites us, especially how it explodes with a drum-roll build and background “hey”’s at the finale. Fuck yes, take a bow.

Not all the songs have such an invigorating kick: “Black Cloud” is decent, but just decent. We could analyze some other lesser bits, but actually, the best songs are the ones we’ve heard: The lovely “I’m Throwing My Arms Around Paris,” the energetic, cheeky “All You Need Is Me,” “That’s How People Grow Up,” “Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed” and its weird fart synth. Across the board, the wordplay isn’t always as tight as it once was, but he seems like he isn’t trying as hard to cram so much into the sentences, so this isn’t necessarily a bad thing: It feels like the ease of age. Morrissey 2009 isn’t always as exciting as the Morrissey of old, but despite his focus on mortality and aging the time around, the guy is far from dead. Good thing, he has that baby to raise.