Oh, but this did make me smile.
And then I came across this and smiled some more.
And now I'm reading this and yes, of course, I'll buy and read the autobiography. I love the way he writes. How could you not love the man who sang the ever-melodic 'and if a double decker bus, crashes into us, to die by your side, well the pleasure and the privilidge is mine'.
The first moment of true Smiths appreciation I can remember was watching Pretty in Pink, when I was 13 or so. There's a scene where Ducky throws playing cards into an old hat, and Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want plays softly in the background. It's heartbreaking and sweet and just all the quiet angst you could hope for in a scene. We were so enamoured with all their albums my sister and I bought an enormous Morrissey poster for our bedroom wall (we shared till we were about 16). It was a couple of metres high and the paper was thick and on hot days it would pull the blu-tack off the wall and fall across the floor and the edges got so frayed and torn but we just couldn't bare to part with it. And then when I was in London, years later, I got three overdue fines from the Westminster City Library on Charing Cross Road because I'd borrowed The Queen is Dead on cassette and listened to it over and over and over again, well past the return date, while my first English winter rained away outside my window (yes, a cassette - on my walkman, it was the 90s after all).
I'm looking forward to reading about those early years in Manchester, all awkward heartbreak and class struggles and Johhny Marr's wonderful songlines in the back.