This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.
When I first discovered The Smiths, The Queen is Dead had already been released for about three years. I was late to the party, but it didn’t take long for me to absorb those songs into my brain. I played it nonstop. It’s probably one of my top ten favorite albums of all time. The Queen is Dead rocked with “Bigmouth Strikes Again” and the title track. It mastered mid-tempo with “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side”, “Some Girls are Bigger Than Others” and “Frankly Mr. Shankly”. It wallowed with “I Know It’s Over” and “Never Had No One Ever”. It elevated with “There is a Light That Never Goes Out”. And then there’s “Cemetry Gates”, arguably the quintessential Smiths song.
The song was built on the foundational paradox of The Smiths — this oddball and strangely irresistible juxtaposition between Marr’s bright and cheery riffs and Morrissey’s morbid lyrics. “Cemetry Gates” felt like the ultimate example of this pairing. Marr’s jangle-infused guitar playing netted a riff that lifted Morrissey’s vocals into a frolic through the graveyard. Inspired by a visit to a cemetery in Manchester, Morrissey wrote the song as a reaction to plagiarism. But more than that, “Cemetry Gates” allowed Morrissey to wear sadness, insecurity and bitterness on his sleeve — and do so with a little humor.
“A dreaded sunny day. So I meet you at the cemetry gates. Keats and Yeats are on your side.”