I suffer from terrible nightmares. Every night before I drift off to sleep, I attempt to subvert these bad dreams by meditating on happy, soothing subjects. Sometimes I imagine catching up with old friends at a favorite bar. Sometimes I imagine a relaxing vacation in France. And sometimes I imagine cavorting through the streets of fin-de-siecle, decadent London with Morrissey.
It wouldn’t matter that I’m a girl in a dapper gentlemen’s world. Oh no! We would be just two fops out for a jolly good night on the town. We’d while away the evening in red-walled opium dens, flirting with rosy-cheeked ladies of the night, and sipping absinthe in the gilded halls of the Café Royal. Then later on, in the early hours of the morning, we’d retire to Morrissey’s personal chambers to discuss his upcoming studio album. The pale moonlight would linger over the satin folds of Morrissey’s black smoking jacket, and he would lean in close and tell me about his plans for 2008. He would tell me — just as he told Billboard earlier this month — about his decision to enter the studio once he finishes touring in early November. He would explain how he has already written the album and is performing new songs like "I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris," "All You Need Is Me," "That's How People Grow Up," and "One Day Goodbye Will Be Farewell" on his current North American tour.
I would nod appreciatively, lulled by the smooth sounds emanating from the Victrola. As I slipped into a sweet, undisturbed sleep, Morrissey would whisper his plans for a September 2008 release date. “September?” I would mumble dreamily. “That’s the month of my birthday!” Morrissey would look at me knowingly before dimming the gas lamp and quietly leaving the room. Because, even though Morrissey is a suave fellow, living beholden to no label after his deal with Sanctuary Records expired and currently mulling over a possible deal with Warner Brothers, he is at heart a gentleman and an artist.
Dream a little dream of Morrissey:
