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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Last fall, Morrissey revealed that he had underwent a series of cancer treatments. With typical Morrissey flair for the dramatic, he said:

If I die, then I die. And if I don’t, then I don’t. Right now I feel good. I am aware that in some of my recent photos I look somewhat unhealthy, but that’s what illness can do. I’m not going to worry about that, I’ll rest when I’m dead.

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