The conventional wisdom about the illustrious '80s career of The Smiths was that guitarist Johnny Marr was the real musical force, whereas flamboyant fretter Morrissey was the media-adored showman. It's easy to wonder whether this was an honest appraisal or the reluctance of hetero male music critics to champion a ruthlessly articulate gay Englishman who flaunted his desperate need for love. Self-loathing was his bling-bling. The Smiths' two masterpieces -- Meat is Murder and The Queen is Dead -- proved that Marr's rapidly churning electric chords indeed provided a vital check to Morrissey's luxurious nasal sob, but they were still a spiky chaser to the rich, bitter ale of Moz's lyrics. Stephen Patrick Morrissey may not be a great artist, but he's a dazzlingly original creature -- a smart-ass, street-bred homosexual loner who writes love-lorn poetry to thugs, anarchists, and outcasts. And as revealed by You Are the Quarry, his re-emergence after a choppy '90s solo career, he's developed, at the age of 45, into a crooner of considerable charm.

Quarry is as reflective and (relatively) restrained as 1995's Southpaw Grammar was lurid and mean-spirited; under producer Jerry Finn, Morrissey has mostly dropped the anguished wails and flirty falsettos for straightforward readings. The outraged ÒIrish Blood, English HeartÓ and the proudly pop ÒFirst Of the Gang To DieÓ are stellar examples of two favorite Morrissey themes: the former, a pissed-off commoner trashing faded royalty; the latter, a feverishly romantic portrait of a Òpretty, petty thiefÓ named Hector. ÒI Have Forgiven JesusÓ is a surprisingly poignant lament about a young Christian hooligan who finds he can't share his savior's love with a callous world. Two of the album's best moments are its least conspicuous. ÒLet Me Kiss YouÓ (ÒClose your eyes / Think of someone you physically admire / Then let me kiss youÓ) and the Roxy Music-ish ÒI'm Not SorryÓ would translate perfectly to jazz-pop arrangements.

Trying to make Moz-bashers appreciate You Are the Quarry is a little like selling the idea of gay marriage to a Southern Baptist -- it wastes your time and annoys the Baptist. But just because Morrissey's made a career out of dismissing himself doesn't mean you should.