An Empty Arsenal

Morrissey used to possess the singular ability to make his obsessive self-pity entertaining. He moaned so pathetically and bemoaned his loveless fate with such vicious, sarcastic glee, that even the most navel-gazing songs retained a sense of humor. Since his split with the inspired Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr, he's relied more and more on this lyrical inventiveness.

Which is why the omission of a lyric sheet from his latest album,Your Arsenal, is a little unsettling. It's the first suggestion that something's amiss on Gloomland. The opening track, "You're Gonna Need Someone on Your Side," offers little consolation for the skeptical listener. Over the loud but unremarkable guitar crash, Morrissey offers lyrics that sound as if they're lifted from a Debbie Gibson single: "Give yourself a break before you break down ," he snivels. This from the man who created the "Hairdresser on Fire" and put a Walkman on Joan of Arc?

He even flops in the self-pity department. Most of the tunes are simply yawn-inducing regurgitations of familiar material. Morrissey sounds unconvinced as he sighs, "All my life no one ever gave me anything." By the time he whimpers out a half-hearted "I wish I had the charm to attract the one I love...you see I've got no charm," you'll be inclined to agree.

The music on "Your Arsenal" suffer from the same flatness. "Certain People I know" makes a limp attempt at a country western sound, proving that this child of England's industrial wasteland is simply not cut out to headline at the Grand Ol' Opry. Most of the other tracks are just folkish filler. The only entertaining thing about the aimless, boring "We Hate it When Our Friends Succeed" is the title. It's mystery how he's managed to eke a hit out of the meager, colorless tune.

Only a few moments hint at Morrisey's former greatness. "The National Front Disco" is a vaguely catchy tune about a small-town teen lost in the wilds of the nightclub scene, and Morrissey delivers the tale with relish. He also proves he's still capable of knocking off a diverting lyric with "You're the One for Me, Fatty." In this song he beseeches his obese sweetheart to "say if I'm ever in your way..a-hey,-a HAAAAY." He really wallows in the line, and the song offers hope that his old languid wail may not be gone for good.

But these tracks are hardly enough to sustain this slight album (it only contains about thirty minutes worth of music). Could it be that Morrissey's morbid imagination is floundering because he's secretly found happiness? There's got to be some explanation for his lack of gusto on Your Arsenal. Too often, he doesn't even sound interested in his own dejection.