After a long self-imposed hiatus that no one appears to have noticed, the Classic Album Review is back, and this week’s is a doozy.

Firstly, I have somewhat conflicted feelings about including this album at all. As a collective album, I am not sure if it has necessarily stood the test of time given my gargantuan initial appraisal (masterpiece, numero uno, and thrillingly deep all came to mind). As a series of fragmented songs, many of them continue to hold up very nicely.

But then, there is the element of “that was then, this is now,” that plagues much of the music and books I enjoyed in my early teens. When you are a teenager, even discounting the fact that being depressed is very much considered en vogue, there is a definitive end all and be all element to everything you experience in art and hold dear to your heart. The Queen Is Dead is pretty much the epitome of such gnawing emotional tsunami, and for better or for worse represents some embarrassing times for me. No wonder I hardly listen to it anymore. It’s like when you remember sobbing uncontrollably to The Joy Luck Club and thinking that was a pinnacle.

That said, there are some gems on here that will always represent the magic of powerhouse songwriting. The album achieves several coveted things in music:

1. Distinct atmosphere and era – No doubt due to Morrissey’s album cover choices, love of sophisticated 60’s actors, and the general hollow feel. Listening to this again I realize how underrated Mike Joyce’s drumming is.
2. Powerful storytelling – So many of the songs from this album derive their impact with the skilled simplicity with which the lyrics construct everything. Frankly, Mr. Shankly is still the ultimate letter of resignation. I’ll get onto the others in a moment.
3. Intrigue and directness – The best songs on the album create a brilliant dual counterintuitive effect: being direct while creating intrigue. When I use words like “simple” and “plain” stories and ideas, this is the ultimate form of praise. (Almost) everyone is striving for clarity; not everyone manages to achieve it. The uncomplicated potency of these songs just makes us want to know more. And yes, I think Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others means exactly what its title implies.
4. Humanity – I’m hard pressed to think of an album that might parallel The Queen Is Dead in terms of staunch, raw feelings. Even the sunnier-composed songs (Cemetry Gates, The Boy with the Thorn in His Side) carry an anchor-weight to them and considering the number of times I played it in completion from start to finish, uninterrupted, I wonder how much of the joy in the listening experience is distilled from the wonder of feelings, nothing more than feelings. One of the reasons I think The Queen Is Dead resonates so strongly with teenagers is because everything is heightened…after all, hormones make for technicolor emotions.

BEST

1. I Know It’s Over – An exploration in self-hatred, human fear and loathing. This song really swims in everyone’s greatest fear: loneliness. But at the core of its being is inspirational optimism for how everyone should be striving to live a better life. This song is a shining example of why the Smiths are a wonderful role model for the young and ought not be thought of as a suicide-making machine. Can you really think of a better general message than, “it’s so easy to laugh, it’s so easy to hate…it takes guts to be gentle and kind”? With messages like this, it’s amazing to think Morrissey has never been a guest star on Sesame Street.
2. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side – Probably tied for my favorite song of the album and the strongest demonstration of what Marr, Joyce, and Rourke contributed to the livelihood of the Smiths and live energy. I still find it difficult to listen to this without scream-singing at the absolute top of my lungs because it’s just so damned easy to listen to. One day children, this song will be considered “adult contemporary” and “easy listening.” Mark my words.
3. There Is a Light That Never Goes Out – Maybe the most memorable in terms of maudlin thoughts and feelings. After all, it’s all about undying, everlasting, over-the-top love. This song could very well have a subtitle of “a million and one painful ways to die while running away,” yet in spite of all its pyrotechnic dramatism, it  somehow works. Probably the most treasured song of my adolescence, bar none.

Also, does anyone else think that that last song is all about a teenage boy coming out of the closet, running away from his gay bashing parents, and meeting his lover on the way? Just sayin’.