Oh, mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head...
Morrissey doesn't laugh at death. But he treats it — like Peter Pan, another quasi-mythical English folk hero whose legend means the most to fans of a certain protracted youth — as "the greatest adventure." The former Smiths frontman, whose many lyrical references to dying his devotees can quickly recite, has addressed his recent health concerns — and scrapped tour dates — the best way he knows how. In archly dramatic fashion, Morrissey has pronounced his own demise.
"The reports of my death have been greatly understated," Moz immortally wrote in a statement posted by fan site True to You (via Slicing Up Eyeballs). He said that while hospitalized in Michigan, he received treatment for not just a bleeding ulcer, as previously reported, but also a concussion and a disorder called Barrett's esophagus, in which stomach acid damages the esophagus. He didn't explain the source of the concussion, and we're thankful he didn't also sustain a coma.
The 53-year-old singer added that the plan remains to hit the road again on February 9 at the Chelsea Ballroom in Las Vegas. He also said he's "determined" to play Flint, Michigan, at some later date, though when that might be is unclear. He also, understandably given his condition, made no mention of when his other recently scrapped shows might be rescheduled. The eight canceled shows included dates in Atlanta, Georgia; Nashville, Tennessee; and, yes, tiny Clear Lake, Iowa.
It's worth reading Morrissey's own words, below, after a video for Ringleader of the Tormentors' somewhat apt "You Have Killed Me."
Message from Morrissey:
The reports of my death have been greatly understated. Once admitted to the William Beaumont Hospital at Royal Oak in Michigan, I received treatment for concussion, a bleeding ulcer, and Barrett’s esophagus. The positive from all of this is that there are now no known ailments left for me to try.
I am fully determined to resume the tour on February 9 at the Chelsea Ballroom in Las Vegas. If there’s an audience of any kind in attendance, I just might die with a smile on my face, after all. If I am not there, I shall probably never again be anywhere.
Equally, I am determined to play Flint (Michigan) if it kills me (which, on the face of it, it almost has.)
Thank you to everyone present at both Brooklyn (New York) and Melbourne (Australia) during recent weeks for two of the best nights of what might charitably be termed my “career”. My debt to you will outlive time itself.
pause at my headstone,
31 January 2013.