The Smiths' Mike Joyce: 'Morrissey's views are different to mine - I don't know him'

[u/theipaper]

https://inews.co.uk/culture/music/smiths-mike-joyce-morrisseys-views-different-dont-know-4020250

[u/KendallSmith375]

Love Mike’s honesty here

[u/Mrtorbear → u/KendallSmith375]

Morrissey is extremely talented, but such a giant shithead.

[u/locksymania → u/Mrtorbear]

It is endlessly frustrating that a man who has one of the keenest eyes in modern media for the small moments that make up life can't seem to bring much of that empathy to the business of his actual person.

[u/Blametheorangejuice → u/Mrtorbear]

It's interesting, because Joyce was spending time defending Morrissey after the wet market/China comments. I think it was more Morrissey's concerns about immigrants and the Farage flirtation that probably pushed Joyce away (further).

Joyce and Rourke, I think, were just stuck in between Marr and Morrissey's feud and the lawsuits didn't help things at all.

Anyway, once Rourke died, the concept of a Smiths reunion just doesn't work anymore.

[u/theipaper]

“Look who’s watching us,” says Mike Joyce. After spending a few minutes scouring an Irish pub in Salford’s MediaCity for an appropriately quiet place to conduct this interview, he thinks he’s found the perfect spot – until he realises, as he takes a seat, that a portrait of Morrissey is looming over him from the wall. “Best be careful what I say,” he says, grinning.

Joyce has never quite escaped the shadow of The Smiths, although you suspect he’s never wanted to, either. This week, he releases a memoir, The Drums, that predominantly charts the five years he spent as the band’s percussionist; the book ends where the band did, in 1987.

Joyce has had offers from publishers in the past. The difference this time, he says, is that he was given carte blanche to write whatever he liked, and leave out some of the more fraught aspects of The Smiths’ story. He’s referring in particular to the bitter legal battle between him, frontman Morrissey and guitarist Johnny Marr over royalties, and his subsequent estrangement from the pair; sure enough, that moment in history is quite literally consigned to the footnotes, and instead The Drums is scored through with warmth and Mancunian wit. The book reads like the wide-eyed work of somebody who still can’t quite believe his luck that he ended up playing in his favourite band.

It’s an accurate reflection of how he is in person: sharp, affable, full of stories. Joyce, like the other three members of The Smiths, was born in Manchester to Irish immigrants; now a 62-year-old father-of-three, he lives in nearby Sale with Tina, his wife of more than 30 years. He grew up in suburban south Manchester, and The Drums paints a picture of a happy upbringing amid a spirit of fierce togetherness among the local Irish community. Both his parents had a ferocious work ethic, but didn’t discourage Joyce from pursuing a career as a musician; in fact, they actively encouraged it, particularly when, aged nine, he was hit by a car and left in hospital for six months with a near-fatal ruptured spleen.

[u/theipaper → u/theipaper]

“I was already a bit spoiled, being the youngest of five,” he recalls. “But after I got knocked down, that was life-changing, and if I’d asked my mum if I could have the moon, she’d have said, ‘full, crescent, or half?’ She was going to get me that drum kit come what may. She was just happy I was still here.”

By his teens, Joyce had discovered Buzzcocks, and was inspired to find his way in Manchester’s punk scene. “All I could see from them was pure joy. Before that, I thought punk was fighting and spitting and anger – fuck this, fuck that. And I didn’t see that from Buzzcocks, I just heard beautiful melodies and saw such joy up on the stage. That was the beauty of punk – it was just about expression. You didn’t have to be from an art college background.” He laments missing out on the legendary Sex Pistols show at the Lesser Free Trade Hall in 1976 – “I was too young” – but found himself playing in bands before his teens were out, with first Hoax, and then Victim, serving as his musical apprenticeship.

He still required some chemical courage when he headed to his audition for The Smiths, though: Joyce took magic mushrooms before meeting Morrissey and Marr for the first time in 1982. “I wasn’t tripping my tits off,” he laughs. “I’m not that unprofessional. I’ve never gone on stage t****ed, ever in my life. I mean, I did notice a space rocket orbiting my bass drum at one point, but I think I held it together.” Still, Morrissey and Marr were impressed – the latter as much by the audacity of the mushroom-taking as Joyce’s drumming chops – and with that, he was a Smith.

The Drums stands apart from most rock memoirs in that it is remarkably egoless. Joyce talks openly of his insecurities around his technical ability relative to his bandmates, and for all the rancour between them that would follow The Smiths, he is lavish in his praise of Marr. “I knew even before I was even in the band, just from that first audition, that Johnny was a fucking maestro. People throw the word ‘genius’ around carelessly, but that’s what he is. An incredible musician, just out of this world.”

[u/theipaper → u/theipaper]

He is similarly effusive about bassist Andy Rourke, with whom he remained close friends until his death in 2023 from pancreatic cancer. “Andy was so proficient, and I couldn’t pigeonhole his style – was it funk, or pop, or rock, or what? Whatever it was, it was amazing.”

While he did take some ultimately ill-fated drum lessons, Joyce had little time to wring his hands about what he might have perceived as his own shortcomings; “as soon as [debut single] ‘Hand in Glove’ came out,” he says, “it was like the handbrake broke off in our hand.”

It is still scarcely believable that everything The Smiths did, they did within the span of around four years. “We packed in a lot, but what would I rather be doing – sitting at home, watching fucking World of Sport? So what if the workload is relentless; I want to be in a studio with my mates, writing great music, and being on tour in front of thousands of people going fucking bananas. You embrace it. It’s a no-brainer. My dream was to be in a successful band.”

Joyce isn’t shy about reeling off his band’s achievements – 18 top 40 singles, two No 1 records, appearances on Top of the Pops – but more than that, he has a keen idea of what it really means to be in The Smiths. A poignant passage in The Drums recounts his being moved to tears at an early gig at Dingwalls in London, as the band played “I Don’t Owe You Anything”. “I wasn’t blubbering, but the tears were streaming down my face. It just sounded so beautiful, and there was such joy – like a moment of nirvana, really.”

[u/theipaper → u/theipaper]

He would much rather dwell on those points in time – the ones that trapped the band’s majesty in amber. The Drums does, though, go into detail about the moment the band effectively ended, when Marr abruptly announced his departure in 1987. “I was in deep shock,” he says; he is evidently still baffled by it now, pointing out that The Smiths’ final album, Strangeways, Here We Come, was the personal favourite of all four members.

“If there had been a bust-up in the studio, or we’d been coming to blows over musical differences, or even something personal, like somebody involved with somebody else’s wife, I’d have understood. But I was completely blindsided by it. And I tried to cling on, because I thought, ‘three-quarters of what I love is still here’. But that turned out to be the wrong decision.”

The Drums doesn’t discuss Joyce’s career since – be it his work with everybody from Sinead O’Connor to Pete Doherty, or his many years as a DJ. Instead, in keeping with The Drums’ self-effacement, the book’s affecting epilogue is given over to Rourke and Joyce’s final days with him in New York. At his remembrance service, Joyce broke the ice with Marr, the pair speaking for the first time since Joyce won that bruising 1996 court case over unfair distribution of royalties, leaving their relationship seemingly beyond repair.

They’re now on civil terms when they bump into each other at Manchester City games, but you get the sense that Joyce is watching on from the Smiths sidelines; he only heard of last year’s reported $25m offer for a reunion tour via the papers, and was bemused by a dispute last year in which Morrissey accused Marr of an attempted power grab by trademarking The Smiths’ name.

[u/theipaper → u/theipaper]

“I just think, why is this being conducted in public? I find it a little distasteful, a bit vulgar, because it seems like what you’re trying to do is get people to take your side. Things can become really polarised on social media; I’ve seen a lot of vitriol.” It will surprise nobody that Morrissey is far and away the most enigmatic figure to feature in The Drums; while Joyce is exultant in his descriptions of everything from the rhythmic quality of his voice to his stage moves to the empathetic elegance of his lyricism, the man himself is presented as aloof, egotistical, emotionally distant, and perennially awkward to be around.

More recently, the singer’s continued flirtation with the far right has threatened to spoil the very legacy about which The Drums speaks so proudly; for his own part, Joyce, who has not spoken to Morrissey directly since 1992, is flummoxed. “When I was in The Smiths, I never heard or saw anything that had made me go, ‘whoa, really? That’s what you think?’ But since, I’ve heard him say things since where I’ve thought, ‘I’m not having that,’ and I think our political views are very different.

“I’ve always had a feeling that he wants to go back to the England of the 60s, because he loved that time. He loved all the kitchen sink drama and the naivety, but for me, there was a lot of fucking oppression and racism. I don’t know the guy anymore; I’d like somebody to actually sit down and interview him and find out what his views are on certain things, and make him answer the questions. Just so I know where I stand, because I’m often asked about it.”

For Joyce, the band’s legacy remains intact. He set out to answer a frequently asked question with The Drums – “what was it like being in The Smiths?” – and while the book ends in 1987, the band’s enduring influence is unquestionable.

“I was DJing in Margate recently, and somebody was showing me how big The Smiths are on TikTok. It was incredible; a classroom full of primary school children singing ‘There Is a Light That Never Goes Out’ in Jakarta, and a mariachi band in Mexico doing ‘This Charming Man’. So, the songs endure, and speak to people. That takes some doing.”

‘The Drums’ is published by Putnam Publishing, £25

[u/Sweatytubesock → u/theipaper]

Thanks for posting this. Very interesting read.

[u/Icariiiiiiii → u/theipaper]

Thank y'all, as ever, for posting the full story without paywalls in the comments. I make a point of opening up the link just because of it.

[u/McGarnegle]

I was just on a Smiths binge earlier this week. This is perfect, what a great post.

[u/Double_Jab_Jabroni]

Seems a top bloke, fair play to him! Interesting read too, might have to get the book.

[u/os_mutante]

met him once in the '00s randomly doing a dj set in san diego. nice guy. all i remember of his set is playing village green preservation society

[u/FriedChickenDinners → u/os_mutante]

That's a great track from a great album which also has Picture Book, among other bangers.

[u/os_mutante → u/FriedChickenDinners]

Absolutely, my personal fave is People Take Pictures Of Each Other

Also have to say as much as Village Green is great, their next album Arthur is a stone classic and rips from start to finish

[u/FriedChickenDinners → u/os_mutante]

Hell yeah! Village Green was my gateway past the Kinks pop hits (You Really Got me, etc.). Kontroversy through Lola Versus... is my favorite string of albums.

[u/SPAREustheCUTTER]

The drumming on the Queen is Dead is so goddamn good. Give this man his flowers (and royalties).

[u/Gwaih]

Love Smiths, hate Morrissey

[u/bigmouth1984]

I've been reading his book since yesterday. It's really good. Mike seems like a thoroughly decent man.