(Track from album, “Strangeways, Here We Come”)
I know, I know - I promised some new tracks, and, to my Facebook following of readers, I profusely apologise; this definitely wasn't on the setlist of ideas you helped me put together.
But, and it's a big but, this song came around on my iPod's shuffle the other day, and, given my current 'tempestuous plight of paramour', it was just begging to be reviewed. As a song, with it's gender and ageless interpretation, this lyric goes out to everyone, whether you've heard it, haven't, are madly in love, or otherwise (yes, that's you NHS workers). Its a wonderful song, and both physically and metaphorically, it delivers an incredibly strong message.
At first, it might seem that I'm being overly passionate because it's the Smiths; ok, maybe I am. But come on - from the outset, from that opening jangle of blissful, 'capo-on-the-7th' strumming, it's a dream-like haze of brilliance.
In the first few seconds, Morrissey's vocal, arguably the lead instrument of the band, jumps in with a lovelorn, weathered, cry of 'I won't share you'. It's beaten only by Johnny Marr's ever-wistful tintinnabulation, leaping through the airwaves like a valiant bird, shortly before hitting a wall of melancholic pondering in the form of the co-writer's lyrics.
The words are, as with every Morrissey penned track, everything. The singer pours out his sentiment, promising the subject he will never share them, making references to the idyllic bliss of love as only possibly the product of drunken expeditions on perrier, or the sudden realisation of the world as 'sick and cruel'. Nevertheless, ironic bridge sections aside, it's a declaration of pure admiration; the combined passion of the strained vocal itself with the winsome poetry of the spoken words, evoke a sense of tragic exquisiteness, amplified somewhat, by the fact that this the closing track on the final Smiths album, bearing potentially autobiographical connotations to Morrissey's infamous monopolisation of writing partnerships between outsiders to the band and guitarist Johnny Marr...
Nevertheless, the words, maybe expressed too late on the verge of the band's unforgettable and untimely demise, are beautiful. More so than the guitars? Mmmmmmm...debatable...
Well-read fans, or those with a musical ear, will know (or at least, realise) that the incredibly talented Marr actually nicked the chord sequence for this song...from another one of his own songs. Yes, it's true; listen closely, and you'll find The Smith's "Ask" bears, pretty much, the exact same melodic progression. But who cares; it's lighter and sounds like it has been lovingly withdrawn from the folky depths of a mandolin or lute, whereas actually it's just the musical witchcraft of a 'cheeky' capo. At approximately 1:38, a wonderful, weaving meander of lead guitar picking, sweeps over the top of the song, bearing something of a resemblance to the detailed playing on Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man". It's nothing essential here, but the bass is also worth a mention; it adds tone, and whilst this is not particularly noteworthy, you would definitely find the track lacking without it, so again, more than anything, a nice touch.
Basically...wow, I can't even find the words...just...umm....I don't even know. It is beautiful and I love it. It's totally applicable to any listener, and, the genius paraphrasing and vocal arrangement to one side, it's no shoddy instrumental effort either. I would describe this as a seminal Smiths track, but then again, it's very much up to you...have a listen...fall in love...
★★★★★
Versions of "I Won't Share You"
Album Version - 2:48