Morrissey Cancels More Shows With Charming Note to Fans

Pope of Mope begs pardon much better than real Pope

Morrissey
This charming man: Morrissey in January / Photo by Mike Pont/Getty Images
Marc Hogan WRITTEN BY
Marc Hogan

The more Morrissey cancels shows on his long-suffering fans, the more eloquently he apologizes. And he has been canceling shows a lot. So at this point his pleas for forgiveness are nearing masterpiece levels.

The former Smiths frontman has postponed this month's scheduled shows in Denver, Salt Lake City, and San Francisco, he announced over the weekend via fan site True to You. Morrissey is recovering from a bleeding ulcer, among other ailments, so this time, at least, it's difficult to blame the man. But he makes staying mad at him downright impossible with his latest note, begging for fans' "liberal tolerance" as "we are all at the mercy of biological chance." All of us, but especially disco dancers.

"I apologize to an almost annoying degree for any trouble I've caused to anyone by way of travel plans and dog-sitters and ticket-outlay and re-molded hairstyles," Morrissey wrote. "I fully realize that the word 'cancellation' in every known dictionary is followed by my own name, but no morale drops as low as my own at the mere suggestion of re-jigging shows."

Moz has sung previously about the unhelpfulness of "sorry," and it's true he canceled shows prior to his health scare, that time out of understandable concern for his sick mother. But then again, as the video below shows, he has also had the chutzpah to forgive Jesus, so the least his fans can do is accept his wild, Wildean apology.

Read Morrissey's full post at the bottom of the page, and then gaze upon those canceled tour dates, humming, of course, "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want."

Play

Message From Morrissey:

I am terribly sorry that the next three shows have been moved back. The worst is for the best. I am certainly on the road to recovery, but caution and prevention demand further IV blood work lest I keel over and die before your very eyes. I apologize to an almost annoying degree for any trouble I've caused to anyone by way of travel plans and dog-sitters and ticket-outlay and re-molded hairstyles. I should be as fit as a ferret for San Diego. Please don't be too appalled if you see me out and about this week in the Hollywood area. Perversely, it's all in accordance with doctor's orders: to have myself re-integrated with the call of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd; the flash of light and the full thrust of mosh-pit sound. Illness turns the body into a complete stranger, and I'll be testing the capabilities of my strides at the most unlikely music shows this week. The will to get on with it runs strong. Even death can be used as a springboard. For those scholars who are heatedly curious, my ulcer is now under reins, even if neither asleep nor dead, but the continued cause for concern is a slightly embarrassing absence of blood – most of which the bleeding ulcer relieved me of. Anemia sets its own terms with quite obvious biological conclusions, and I have spent these last weeks under expert medical care in Los Angeles with an almost erotic dependency on various IV drips. Sitting around reading indecent books is no substitute for continuing the tour, but my progress holds great promise and Flint shall not escape quite so lightly. We are all at the mercy of biological chance, and I once again beg for your liberal tolerance. If you bump into me this week at a heavy rock show, please understand that I'm lowering myself into the cut and thrust after weeks on ice - horizontal, with sockets empty of eyes. In the midst of the abyss, I'm saved by the news that tickets for the tour continue to sell very well, and my straightjacket twitches with excited gratitude. But the patient must be patient. Our goal, now, is San Diego, by which time my blood-work shall have finally taken its course and I shall be shot from a cannon and might even be equipped with an extra eye. We just never know, do we? Being on life's danger list, I've found, actually prevents you from thinking about how you are, and there's a bread-like warmth in giving in to whatever was meant for you and whatever wasn't. The only critical mistake might be to confuse your pre-med with creativity - which is certainly worth the confusion if it renders you not fully present in your own life. Finally, I gorge myself on thanks for the many and varied messages of support that I've received over these recent four weeks. They have yanked me out of prolonged mood dips and cured a crisis of spirits. I fully realize that the word 'cancellation' in every known dictionary is followed by my own name, but no morale drops as low as my own at the mere suggestion of re-jigging shows. I sincerely ask for your pardon and your understanding. As for those of you who claim to now be officially sick to death of me - if this is really true, then why exactly are you reading this? As a matter of fact, I am even prepared to humble myself to nothing before those who carp; you see, any hospital-stay leaves us in danger of becoming unnecessarily agreeable. Life will right itself.

Whatever happens, I love you.

Morrissey's remaining tour dates:

February 18 - Dallas, TX @ Palladium
February 21 - Denver, CO @ Temple Hoyne Buell Theatre
February 22 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Kingsbury Hall
February 24 - San Francisco, CA @ Davies Symphony Hall
February 27 - San Diego, CA @ Balboa Theatre
March 1 - Los Angeles, CA @ Staples Center * 
March 2 - Sparks, NV @ John Ascuaga's Nugget - Rose Ballroom
March 4 - Davis, CA @ Robert Mondavi Center at UC Davis
March 6 - Seattle, WA @ Moore Theatre
March 8 - Portland, OR @ Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall
March 9 - San Francisco, CA @ Regency Ballroom

* with Patti Smith

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