The Smiths signed to the independent label Rough Trade Records in 1983 and released their first album, The Smiths, in 1984. They based their songs on the songwriting partnership of Morrissey and Marr. Their focus on a guitar, bass, and drum sound and a fusion of 1960s rock and post-punk was a rejection of the synth-pop sound that was predominant at the time. Several Smiths singles reached the top 20 of the UK Singles Chart, and all their studio albums reached the top five of the UK Albums Chart, including the number-one album Meat Is Murder (1985). They achieved mainstream success in Europe with The Queen Is Dead (1986) and Strangeways, Here We Come (1987), both of which entered the top 20 of the European Albums Chart.
Internal tensions led to the Smiths' breakup in 1987, followed by public lawsuits over royalties. Their live album Rank (1988) reached the top 10 in Europe. Since the band's dissolution, the members have refused offers to reunite and have all separately stated that the band is finished and will never reunite.
Full Wikipedia article: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Smiths
Studio albums
The Smiths (1984)
Meat Is Murder (1985)
The Queen Is Dead (1986)
Strangeways, Here We Come (1987)
Frankly Mr. Shankly
The Smiths Lyrics
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It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the twenty first century breathing down my neck
I must move fast, you understand me
Fame, fame, fatal fame
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
But still I'd rather be famous
Than righteous or holy
Any day, any day, any day
But sometimes I feel more fulfilled
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
I want to live and I want to love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask
You are a flatulent pain in the ass
I do not mean to be so rude
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly
Oh, give us your money
The lyrics to The Smiths's song Frankly, Mr. Shankly depict a conversation between the singer (presumably Morrissey) and his employer, whom he addresses as Mr. Shankly. The singer expresses his desire to leave the job he's held for a while, a position that has paid his way but has also corroded his soul. He wants to go down in musical history and celluloid history - a desire for fame and recognition that he considers more fulfilling than being righteous or holy. The singer feels like he's running out of time, with the 21st century breathing down his neck, and he needs to move fast. However, he finds fulfillment in smaller things like making Christmas cards with the mentally ill. The song ends with the singer insulting Mr. Shankly in retaliation for being called out on his poetry.
The song can be interpreted as Morrissey's frustration with the constraints of his record contract with Rough Trade, which was limiting his creative output and earning him very little money. The character of Mr. Shankly may represent the music industry and its expectations of artists. Morrissey's desire for fame and recognition is a common theme in his music, but he also recognizes the limitations and pitfalls of fame.
Line by Line Meaning
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, this position I've held
I'm tired of this job, Mr. Shankly
It pays my way, and it corrodes my soul
The job pays the bills but is ruining me internally
I want to leave, you will not miss me
I'm ready to move on and I don't think you'll care
I want to go down in musical history
I want to make a name for myself as a musician
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I'm not doing well, Mr. Shankly
I've got the twenty first century breathing down my neck
I'm feeling the pressure of modern times
I must move fast, you understand me
I need to act quickly and I hope you can see that
I want to go down in celluloid history, Mr. Shankly
I want to become a movie star
Fame, fame, fatal fame
Being famous can be dangerous
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
Fame can have negative effects on someone
But still I'd rather be famous
But despite that, I still want to be famous
Than righteous or holy
I don't care about being morally upright or religious
Any day, any day, any day
I'd choose fame over righteousness any day
But sometimes I feel more fulfilled
Occasionally, I feel more satisfied doing something else
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
Like making Christmas cards with people suffering from a mental illness
I want to live and I want to love
I want to experience life and love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of
I want to take risks and do things that may not be socially acceptable
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
Sarcasm toward Mr. Shankly's poetry skills
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry, Mr. Shankly
An insult towards Mr. Shankly's poetry skills
Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask
Since you're asking for an opinion, Mr. Shankly
You are a flatulent pain in the ass
You're a pain to be around, Mr. Shankly
I do not mean to be so rude
I don't want to be rude, but
Still, I must speak frankly, Mr. Shankly
But I have to be honest with you, Mr. Shankly
Oh, give us your money
A request for payment, likely for services or work done
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: STEVEN MORRISSEY, JOHNNY MARR
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind