The Smiths – Strangeways, Here We Come

Review

On "Strangeways, Here We Come," The Smiths paint their curtain call in deep indigos and grays, crafting an elegy charged with wit and longing. Morrissey's voice drifts between velvety yearning and sharp, knowing smirks, threading darkness through "Death of a Disco Dancer" and playful fatalism in "Girlfriend in a Coma." Johnny Marr lets his guitar shimmer with restless invention—glam’s glitter brushing up against the experimental, where a knife’s edge strikes on "Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before." Each song feels at once familiar and subtly strange, as if the group is dancing in twilight just before the world falls silent.

Within these melodies, bruised hearts pulse and regret clings to the edges of every note, especially on the sweeping, cinematic ache of "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me." Even where irony rears its head, as in "Death at One’s Elbow," sincerity still gleams like starlight through a coming storm. The album, their final studio breath, balances youthful mischief with an air of inevitable departure—both a parting gift and an unvarnished confession, sealed with the smoke and mirrors The Smiths wield best. - Maia