Talking With singer-songwriter Morrissey

'Are you ready to rock . . . yourself back and forth in the shower while crying?" Stephen Colbert asked his audience before interviewing Morrissey, the quintessentially forlorn British singer-songwriter, last October. Moz, the proudly mysterious, big-chinned, romantically challenged former frontman for The Smiths, looked mildly uncomfortable during that interview but was far more at home answering questions by email. Characteristically acerbic, he trashed his home country's royal family and suggested U.S. television was so dumb in the '90s that it "was a way of keeping people in a state of dependency." He plays Tilles Center for the Performing Arts, LIU Post in Brookville, Wednesday, and the Brooklyn Academy of Music on Friday.

. . . because of [late New York Dolls] Johnny Thunders and [late David Bowie collaborator] Mick Ronson and the lordly arrogance of tough guitarists . . . the arrogant pride of the second-in-command . . . just waiting to elbow the poor singer sideways.

I haven't ever found it to be especially difficult. I find myself to be naturally odd enough to gain people's curiosity, and I find the stage more natural than walking down a street. I love to sing, but the question of whether it has any purpose is for others to say.

The British media were caught unawares by punk, but that type of ambush couldn't happen again because we now live in very censorian and controlled times. Music radio is very narrow, and music magazines are far too concerned with sales to cover any artist who is not global.

I have no connection with The Smiths catalog, apparently no legal rights and no involvement. I know nothing about reissues or remastered versions, and I am not consulted. My calls to the record label go unanswered, and they politely tell my lawyer to get stuffed. The situation holds no promise.