LET’S not skirt around it: Johnny Marr is a genius. Noel Gallagher summed up one of the finest musicians ever to strap on a Rickenbacker as well as anybody when he said: “You can’t play what he plays”.
Marr’s first solo album – if you discount 2003’s Boomslang by his essentially solo venture The Healers – is as assured, diverse and classy as you’d hope in its guitar work: it jangles (European Me), crunches (I Want The Heartbeat), pierces (Upstarts, the title track) and out-Doves Doves (The Right Thing Right), while New Town Velocity would grace any album Marr’s ever been involved with.
Where The Messenger falters is where it was always likely to falter: the lyrics and the vocals.
Marr’s music deserves better than his own voice; this album illustrates why he’s always preferred to have a Morrissey, a Matt Johnson or a Bernard Sumner alongside him.
Still, as a celebration of Marr’s guitar legacy, The Messenger does the job perfectly, and at least it’ll tide you over until The Smiths finally get round to reforming.
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