It’s time to tell the story. The Smiths separated in 1987, and the world has mourned their demise ever since. There’s no other rock ‘n’ roll story like theirs – going back to the day in 1982 when Johnny knocked on the door of the local literary recluse and announced, “I’ve come to form the best band in the world.”
So let’s break it all down. All 73 Smiths songs, ranked from bottom to top. The hits. The flops. The glorious heights. The horrible depths. The B-sides, the deep cuts, the covers, the songs that made you cry. The songs that saved your life. The Good, the Bad and “Vicar in a Tutu.” Everything. An insanely ambitious, brutally definitive, scholarly, subjective, opinionated, passionate and complete guide to a songbook like no other. The ultimate discussion starter.
Every Smiths fan would put together a different list. And that is precisely the point of the matter. So if you’re easily offended, be warned. “Honey Pie, you’re not safe here.” But it’s a tribute to Morrissey, Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce. The quartet from Manchester that made the dream come true and changed the world. Here’s to the dazzling, back-scrubbing, Walkman-melting genius of the Smiths.
73. “Accept Yourself” (1983)
In their all-too-brief existence, the Smiths have produced dozens of brilliant songs. “Accept Yourself” is not one of them. From the cheesy guitar riff (basically Captain & Tennille’s “Love Will Keep Us Together”) to Morrissey’s musings of “How do I find my shoes?”, it’s the most horrific faux pas they’ve ever recorded. The clumsiest move they’ve ever made.
When Mozzer tells you to “accept yourself,” it’s like Ozzy giving ballet lessons. He has spent his noble career ignoring this advice. And the world of music is better for it (even if Morrissey isn’t).
72. “Barbarism Begins at Home” (1985)
At seven minutes, the Smiths’ longest song. Which is either a sign of how much they cared about child abuse. Or a sign of how desperate they were to fill the second side of Meat Is Murder. Unlikely slap bass enthusiast Andy Rourke plays funk, which was never really this band’s specialty.
71. “Paint a Vulgar Picture” (1987)
A cheesy badge of celebrity grievances that takes up too much space on her farewell album Strangeways, Here We Come. Morrissey complains about record companies, media whores, MTV and the BBC. But George Michael did better a few years later with “Freedom! ’90.”
70. “Meat Is Murder” (1985)
Moooooo! Morrissey stirs up the audience’s pity for cows and turkeys. But especially for English rock stars who are struggling with the difficult second album. The Smiths, usually the most prolific of all bands, suddenly ran out of songs in the studio. So they spontaneously wrote this hymn. Despite its noble pro-cow sentiments, “Meat Is Murder” remains a celebration of unintentional comedy.
As Oscar Wilde famously said about a Dickens novel, you have to have a heart of stone to hear it without laughing. Morrissey still has his backing band play this song every night while he goes to the bathroom. Just in case someone didn’t realize they were having a bad time.
69. “Work Is a Four-Letter Word” (1987)
When they showed up for their final studio session in May 1987, they were exhausted. Hence this version of a 1960s Cilla Black ditty aimed at a lazy jerk of a husband. Morrissey’s idea, of course.
“That was really the last straw,” grumbled Marr. “I didn’t start a band to play Cilla Black songs.” Morrissey noted: “Unknowingly, Cilla Black actually broke up the Smiths. Which is pretty much to her credit.”
68. “I Keep Mine Hidden” (1987)
From the same tape-destroying session as “Work Is a Four-Letter Word,” this quick collaboration between the duo was born. The last song they wrote together. But it just wasn’t like the old days. Even the whistling solo was bad.
It could be the most bitter final recording by a major band. At least twice as bad as “I Me Mine” by the Beatles. The next time Johnny Marr and Morrissey saw each other was years later. In a courtroom.
67. “Golden Lights” (1986)
The Smiths revive a minor 1965 hit by Britpop starlet Twinkle, with her friend Kirsty MacColl singing along. For reasons no one has ever explained, “Golden Lights” was included on the Louder Than Bombs compilation.
It’s earned its legendary status as a song that fans love and hate, although you have to give it bonus points for becoming such a hilarious disaster. Morrissey called it “an act of playful perversity.” Andy Rourke put it even more clearly. “It ended up like a failed version of ‘Octopus’ Garden.”
66. “Back to the Old House” (1984)
An acoustic lament about the innocence of childhood that becomes boring after 30 seconds.
65. “Death at One’s Elbow” (1987)
Not bad for a faux-zydeco shuffle about a love with the very un-Smiths-esque name “Glenn.” (Danzig? Campbell? Branca?) But people see no value in this song and are mostly right.
64. “Money Changes Everything” (1986)
And then there were the instrumental pieces. This guitar strum was on the B-side of “Bigmouth Strikes Again.” Tragically, it wasn’t a cover of the Cyndi Lauper classic (which Cyndi had from Atlanta punks The Brains). Oh, if only you could hear Morrissey singing along. Speaking of money. Johnny Marr passed this track on to Bryan Ferry, who added lyrics to it and made it the hit “The Right Stuff”.
63. “Well I Wonder” (1985)
Morrissey was still learning to sing properly in the early days. And it could be painful to listen to him struggle. Of all the songs on the Smiths’ first three albums, “Well I Wonder” is the only one they never played live.
62. “The Draize Train” (1986)
Another instrumental piece. Many fans spent the warm summer days of 1986 indoors trying to appreciate “The Draize Train” simply because it was the B-side to one of the biggest singles of the century, “Panic.” Franz Ferdinand took over the groove for one of the biggest singles of the next century, “Take Me Out.”
61. “What’s the World” (1985)
The Smiths cover a song by their opening act. Her friends from the Manchester band James, who had a Britpop hit with “Laid” in 1994. “What’s the World” was recorded live in Glasgow and released as a collector’s item on the cassette “I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish”. After The Smiths split, James scored a pop hit that inspired Morrissey to write a slightly different tribute: “We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful.”