The Dick Dale Chronicles, Pt. 1

For years, Dick Dale seemed to be a poster child—okay, poster man—for how to grow old gracefully. He didn’t hide his age onstage, but nothing about his performance hinted that there might be an AARP card in his wallet. He sawed his guitar strings on “Misirlou” and countless surf instrumentals with punk intensity, on more than one occasion holding up his pick to show the damage he had done to it with the fury of his playing.

Last Night: Morrissey Isn't Any Happier

In the ‘80s and ‘90s, a young Stephen Morrissey gave a generation permission to mope. Thursday, he returned to New Orleans’ Saenger Theatre as your emotionally needy uncle—all bitterness and open wounds with unclear boundaries. In a black velour shirt with a broad gold V, he paced the stage of the Saenger Theatre snapping his lengthy microphone cord, sometimes singing with his arms folded as if delivering a sociology lecture for the umpteenth time.

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