(Standalone single)
May I just begin with most heartiest apologies for leaping wildly, and with significant hipster flamboyance, from the fleeting freight train of regiment that embodies my request list with this second abrasive yet joyfully poppy interruption in the form of further, perfectly precedented Smiths fandom.
Secondly, it is probably best to explain that such a disruption has occurred purely as a consequence of a rather important moment in a music listener's life, as I span the first piece of vinyl on my very first turntable yesterday. The Smiths' "Panic" on 12" vinyl was a birthday present alongside the new deck, and, whilst the German 12" import of "Still Ill" with the "Hand In Glove" sleeve (another brilliant gift) seemed that much more inviting, I simply grabbed the former because it was on top of the pile, and because I'm lazy. It was probably less than a week ago that I last heard this song, but seeing the disc spin, and watching the needle bounce over the grooves, (initially at a hilarious 33rpm) reminded me of the profound, and sincere genius the track is composed from, a common trait most will find, on tracks that bear the name of indie music's most groundbreaking band...
The track explodes into being with a loud, explosive chord, followed almost immediately by the beautiful croon of Morrissey's vocal, critical and striking to those opposed by his words, yet warm and inviting to the similarly opinionated. The narration proclaims there to be panic on the streets of various cities and towns, apparently because the music played by radio presenters, is irrelevant and fails to represent the youth, who, included physically by way of a children's choir in the last 40 seconds, close the song to a rousing and somewhat disturbing chorus of "hang the DJ!", Johnny Marr's pop-friendly, electrifying musical background amplifying this unsettling factor, hugely.
Ok, so not Morrissey's finest lyrics, maybe; sure enough, the verses are a little weak in comparison to the lyrical genius of, say, "This Charming Man", or "Bigmouth Strikes Again" (both previously reviewed on this blog", but the heavily repeated and dismaying refrain of "hang the DJ" is, phenomenal, cutting, and profoundly poetic, the overall warming atmosphere of the track subsequently romanticising the act of stringing up disc jockeys...this is perhaps the source of humour on this track, though truthfully, you have to hear it to believe it...
As per any and every Smiths single, the video is rubbish. It just doesn't work - it's boring more than anything. The sleeve is also a bit lacking for a Morrissey/Marr track; you'd have thought that, considering the song is aimed at Steve Wright, a BBC Radio 1 DJ in 1986, that Morrissey might have dome something more intelligent and ironic with the imagery, as is his custom, but instead, there is just a rather puzzling shot of Richard Bradford looking equally confused. There was an attempt with the original vinyl sold by inclusion of a sticker and poster set, to make a sardonic comment on the anti-consumerism of the track itself, and this, alongside the brilliant choice of B-side, "The Queen Is Dead" album track, "Vicar In A Tutu, almost definitely save the otherwise satisfactory corporate image of the band on this particular release.
At a mere 2:20 (with between 10-20 of those seconds being the fade out at the end) "Panic" is an abrupt musical statement, employing charismatic cynicism in it's lyrics, and juxtaposed, joyous jangle-pop genius in it's instrumentation, combing the two in a suitably winsome collision that sounds loud, quite punky and yet, rather accomplished, managing, via it's pointed, political declaration, to retain the quirky capacity to make the listener howl uncontrollably with laughter. It truly is sometihing to behold, and to have made it the first record I played on my new turntable - well, 'the pleasure, the privilege was mine'...
★★★★★
Versions of "Panic"
Single Version - 2:42
Live at the National Ballroom, Kilburn, London, 23/10/1986 ("Rank" Version) - 3:07