The Story Behind The Song: The Smiths’ ode and adherence to plagiarism in ‘Cemetry Gates’
“I have a dramatic, unswayable, unavoidable obsession with death.” Morrissey has never, not for one second, shied away from his own pretentiousness. In The Smiths, this manifested in some of the most extraordinary songwriting of all time, with such abstraction often shadowed or veiled by references to other literary or musical greats, signalling Morrissey’s knack for intertwining authenticity with far-fetched illusions.
‘Cemetry Gates’ has always felt like one of The Smiths’ more visceral songs, evoking visual experiences upon listening to the track, like the physical sensation of walking side by side with a friend while lamenting life’s more ironic musings. It’s difficult to pinpoint where this comes from or why, but perhaps it’s the poignancy of idly admiring those who have passed that makes it so easy to get wrapped up in it from the off.
Although a joint venture between Morrissey and Johnny Marr, the song feels closer to Morrissey’s world as he navigates melancholy and mortality with deep reflections on those who have impacted him. Beneath the surface, there’s also the existence of Morrissey’s signature wit, which enabled the subtle ironies to come to the fore like delicate touches bolstering the otherwise downbeat atmosphere.
As the singer walks through the cemetery, acknowledging different names he loves and hates, he also addresses the nature and purpose of art, concluding that the only way to create something truly resonant and impactful is to be authentic and original. The satire is clear, but it’s delivered knowingly, almost as though Morrissey himself knows that that’s never genuinely achievable.
The song epitomises a familiar pastime for Morrissey, who used to wander Southern Cemetery in Manchester, lost in thought about everything you might expect would plague the future singer’s mind. These come to the fore in ‘Cemetry Gates’, and while it includes his broader sweeping statements on the music industry and its shortcomings, it also emerged from a place of wanting to create a hit.
As he recalled Marr recalled to Guitar Magazine, 1997: “When we signed with Rough Trade, we were being hailed as The Great New Songwriters, and I was on the train coming back thinking, ‘Right, if you’re so great – first thing in the morning, sit down and write a great song.'” For years leading up to The Smiths’ breakthrough, Morrissey had established his own niche as one of the most scathing reviewers, so he knew instinctively what “a great song” should be.
As a result, ‘Cemetry Gates’ was his sophisticated convergence of artistic expression and expectation without compromising on his own interests. For instance, death is a defining source of inspiration across all of music history, but here it appears as a conduit for Morrissey’s fascination and desire to romanticise the afterlife. This is especially poignant with influential figures, such as James Dean or Oscar Wilde, who strengthened his obsession.
Another name he references in the song, Keats, shared the same obsession, though in his case, it stemmed more from a place of fear after being surrounded by it his whole life. In ‘Cemetry Gates’, Morrissey’s enamourment with the macabre flies freely, juxtaposed against the downcast nature of his convictions. All of these distinctive takes on passing to the other side and their various manifestations in different artists enable Morrissey to comment on the disadvantageousness of plagiarism in art and how imitation pales in comparison to authenticity.
As he puts it in the song: “If you must write prose or poems, the words you use should be your own.” It’s a sweeping statement, of course, but one which carries additional layers upon realising these words don’t seem to be his at all, given that they seem to have been taken directly from Richard III and The Man Who Came to Dinner (“all those people, all those lives, where are they now?”).
