You Have Killed Me

This gloriously melodramatic ode to love in its various forms and complications was for me a slow burner of a single. I remember being mildly disappointed when I first heard it, feeling that it lacked the immediate call to arms that "Irish Blood, English Heart" had as the lead off single of the previous album. It all felt that bit underwhelming.

However I was too quick to judge. Though entirely dependant on ones already established affection for the man and his work this is definitely Moz playing to the gallery and in its overly dramatic sweep it is easy to find its subtle virtues. The name dropping of "Pasolini","Visconti" and "Accatone" lets us know that Morrissey has fully embraced his Roman sojourn, soaking up the culture and allowing himself to have a little fun with it. The "Accatone" reference details a film about prostitutes,thieves and pimps and seems to be a veiled reference to that old staple of his, the allure and intoxication of crime. Even Rome has an underbelly that must be acknowledged.

Despite the seeming heartache the song seems in love with its own misery, swooning over a possible love affair against an exotic, culturally rich backdrop it could almost be an old film, the kitchen sink left out this time, but the Trevi Fountain substituted in its place.

Many have read into the "I entered nothing and nothing entered me, til you came with the key..." lyric viewing it as a brief description of a sexual act. Certainly Morrissey seems more engaged with carnal matters on this record and it would seem to fit. It very well could be, it's left vague enough to be saucy but at no point should we expect any confirmation of this. That's part of his magic as far as I'm concerned. However a more spiritual interpretation could be applied to these lines. Rome is a very holy city, the sacred (and profane?) is ingrained in its cultural identity. Could the feeling of religion be entering Moz as he sashays around the Eternal city? He did mention on the album beforehand that he had forgiven Jesus and here he bellows "And there is no point saying this again, but I forgive you". This could be a retread of his previous ecumenical absolution.

Featuring a strong confident vocal and with all the modest elements in place working, we have a great little song here. It's not revelatory by any means and nor would it hook the non-Moz fan but for its intent, and for the continuing saga of the artist, the "soap of Moz" as I call it, it's another engaging piece of the puzzle. A Roman holiday I always enjoy.