In the decades since The Smiths broke up, Johnny Marr has bounced around between various groups including The The, Modest Mouse and most recently The Cribs. Combine this with a career perpetually standing in the preposterously inflated shadow of Morrissey and it’s easy to consider Marr nothing more than a second fiddle man. Make no mistake, Johnny Marr is a giant among men – popular music wouldn’t be where is today without him – but all the respect in the world does not necessarily a rock star make.
It’s not that The Messenger is bad, because it’s not. It’s wholly enjoyable. However there’s simply nothing about the album that approaches remarkable. Marr’s talent has always been adding pitch perfect guitar contributions to his collaborator’s writing, be it Modest Mouse’s ‘Dashboard’, The Cribs’ ‘We Share the Same Skies’ or his incendiary work with The Smiths on songs like ‘There is a Light That Never Goes Out’.
Too often The Messenger sounds like somebody playing their version of Johnny Marr. The title track is a perfect example: it’s a fine song with crisp riffs, a punchy bassline and catchy handclaps, but the minute the guitars fade out the song is forgotten. There’s nothing to separate it from the hundreds of other bands that have aped Marr’s sound in the decades since The Smith’s ‘Hand in Glove’ hit the airways. To borrow an analogy from England’s favourite pass time, Marr is a great midfielder with no striker to finish for him.
There are certainly flourishes throughout the album that remind us who Marr is and what he has achieved. ‘Lockdown’ is unmistakably Marr-esque; the guitars sound at once delicate and soaring, as only Marr can do. He’s the type of guitarist, like a Hendrix or a Clapton or Jack White, who, when he hits his stride, sounds like nobody other than himself. When he does hit that stride it’s magic to behold.
Having said that, Marr’s vocals are clearly the weak link on The Messenger: bland and lacking any depth or range, they hold back songs like ‘Generate! Generate!’ and ‘New Town Velocity’ which may have been exceptional in another vocalist’s hands. If nothing else The Messenger is a perfect study in where Marr’s ceiling as a front man resides.
Maybe part of the reason he has has built a career playing second fiddle, the “guitarist with mystique” as Cameron Crowe put it in Almost Famous, is precisely because he recognises his shortcomings as a front man. It’s been 25 years since The Smiths broke up for good and Johnny Marr is still doing his thing, maybe he’s just a little better at doing other people’s thing.
7/10
Reviewer: Nick Mackay