
The song Johnny Marr thinks proves The Smiths were one of a kind: “Only we could play it”
When people talk about The Smiths, they largely focus on two characters: Johnny Marr and Morrissey.
Our obsession with them speaks to our general obsession with the idea of duality in music. How two warring forces can come together to create magic in a way that perhaps more friendly pairings couldn’t. In the latter years of The Beatles, we did it with Lennon and McCartney, David Gilmour and Roger Waters did it to themselves, and despite being brothers, Liam and Noel Gallagher made greatness in the face of tension.
It’s all about our addiction to drama and storylines that might just give the performance of music a little bit more gusto. But in the case of The Smiths, we didn’t exactly need it. Johnny Marr’s guitar playing was like nothing anyone else had seen in that decade, pushing indie music into more futuristic realms, while Morrissey spun tales packed with enough drama and intrigue to keep us occupied.
Of course, this narrative grew even louder when the group eventually disbanded. After four albums in four years, a prospective future of greatness was ripped from us thanks to a melting pot of bureaucracy and egos. In our yearning for a miracle where The Smiths might just reunite, we’ve wondered what exactly sits at the heart of this tension.
But in doing so, we’ve overlooked an entirely fundamental aspect of The Smiths’ success. Yes, Morrissey was a captivating frontman, and yes, Johnny Marr’s guitar was the beating heart of the entire Smiths sound, but alongside them were Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce, who provided the engine room for this world-changing band.
The very nature of The Smiths’ genre-infusing musical methodology hinged on Andy Rourke in particular. His basslines sulked through the sensibilities of several genres, allowing the band to emerge in the wake of late 1970s punk and transform into something different altogether.
“I was into Stanley Clarke, James Jamerson, and, I’m almost embarrassed to say it, Mark King from Level 42,” Rourke once explained of his influence. That willingness to embrace what may have been deemed uncool at that time is ultimately what allowed The Smiths to move forward, boldly going where no one else was at that time.
Moreover, it gave Rourke a technical foundation that allowed him to keep up with his guitar-playing counterpart. It may have gone unnoticed by many fans, but Marr is keen for those ears to tune in a little more precisely to one exact song.
Speaking of their 1987 track, ‘Unhappy Birthday’, Marr said, “The music, what’s going on between Andy’s bass and my guitar, is one of the things I still hold up as being unique and no one else has ever done quite done,” he explained. “Only we could play it and only Morrissey could sing it.”
The very alchemy Marr refers to is what made the band so compelling and original in the first place. Not one other musician would have fit in the lineup, for it was the uniqueness of those four playing together that achieved greatness. Sadly, though, this signature sonic moment took place on what would be the last ever album they would provide us with.