For many The Smiths are defined by their central writing partnership. Indeed, the union of Morrissey and Marr is something to behold – the lyrical whirlwind, the endless evocative vocals, matched to the continually inventive, cliché-exploding guitar lines. Yet The Smiths would have been nothing without their rhythm section, adding muscular heft and a sense of funk to those fantastic songs.
The loss of Andy Rourke, then, cuts deep. A figure who had his own problems in life – including periods of addiction – he was dearly loved by fans, and earned huge respect as a musician. Childhood friend and band mate Johnny Marr called him “a kind and beautiful soul”, while Smiths drummer Mike Joyce lauded his “momentous” contribution towards music.
Morrissey – who once faced Andy Rourke across a court room – issued a stately note, poetic in touch and emotive in feeling. The singer wrote: “He will never die as long as his music is heard. He didn’t ever know his own power, and nothing that he played had been played by someone else. His distinction was so terrific and unconventional and he proved it could be done.”
As music mourns Andy Rourke, we decided to look back on five iconic Smiths songs, exploring how his bass lines took them to another level.
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‘This Charming Man’
If debut single ‘Hand In Glove’ alerted the music press to The Smiths, then follow-up single ‘This Charming Man’ marked their true arrival on the British stage. Sparking an instantly iconic Top Of The Pops performance, it remains an incredible feat of musicianship – from Morrissey’s daring vocal yelps to Johnny Marr’s incredible guitar lines, it’s a bravura performance from a group who had been formed scant months before.
At the centre of it all, though, is Andy Rourke’s bass line. Much more than a time-keeping device, he spirals around the guitar line, reflecting the main vocal melody in the process. Performed with attitude and confidence, it’s a song-within-a-song. Curiously, Rough Trade recruited Francois Kevorkian to retool the track as a 12 inch New York mix. An extended club mix, the lengthy instrumental sections expose the inner workings of the song – its innate physical pull, and true feeling of weight – and further emphasise Andy Rourke’s wonderful musicianship.
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‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’
One of the most remarkable facets of The Smiths’ career is the sheer velocity at which they operated. Songs simply poured out of the group – little wonder that so many thrilled at those stand alone singles, and attempted to track down the full fun of B-Sides.
‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’ sparked yet another seminal moment on Top Of The Pops, with Morrissey leading from the front. It’s a true group performance, however – Mike Joyce carefully splashing across his kit, Johnny Marr left to pluck out those shimmering guitar chords.
Andy Rourke’s bass line holds it all together, though. Acting in true service of the song, he moves around the melody, while performing the hinge between rhythm and vocal. Go check out the intro – each instrument, each musician is given space to introduce themselves. The perfect Smiths single? Got to be close.
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‘Barbarism Begins At Home’
Before The Smiths came into being Johnny Marr and Andy Rourke were co-conspirators in a funk-rooted band called Freak Party. It’s worth keeping in mind, that beneath those Byrds-isms, and the complex Bert Jansch styled picking patterns lie two funk fiends.
Nowhere is this blend more apparent than ‘Meat Is Murder’ highlight ‘Barbarism Begins At Home’. A stolid tale of brutal discipline during an unhappy childhood, it’s a masterclass in bass playing from Andy Rourke – flowing up and down the neck, it’s a three-dimensional performance with a subversive funk edge. A nod to his roots, one which serves the song perfectly while also expressing his individual voice.
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‘Cemetry Gates’
Famously mis-spelled by Morrissey – or was there a hidden intention all along? – ‘Cemetry Gates’ is an ode to friendship, and companionship in defiance of the external world. It’s about taking literary heroes as unique figures in your internal life, and finding the right person to share those aspects with.
Yet it’s also about the flowing, never-ending acoustic guitar of Johnny Marr, and how Andy Rourke’s bass interweaves around that. Across a mere four strings he’s able to add different dimensions to the chord changes, exposing bittersweet aspects that move between beatific melody and introspection. The work of a group at their peak, ‘Cemetry Gates’ illustrates the full range of musicianship within The Smiths, all acting towards one common goal.
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‘The Queen Is Dead’
The title song of their most-lauded album, ‘The Queen Is Dead’ represents for many fans the absolute pinnacle of The Smiths’ time together. Adopting the intensity of punk but removing the masculine bombast, Johnny Marr’s feedback-exposed guitar playing is unrivalled, a bravura performance that contains palpable dynamism. Morrissey’s vocal pivots between republican sentiments and disarming use of humour: “So I broke into the Palace / With a sponge and a rusty hammer…”
At the dead centre of it all, though, is Andy Rourke’s nigh-on unclassifiable bass playing. Acting in a league of his own he’s able to fuse together the rock, post-punk, and funk aspects that fuelled him, taking them somewhere entirely new. Embracing the head-long velocity of Johnny Marr’s noise-driven playing, Andy Rourke embraces the abstract yet never surrenders the song. In his autobiography, Johnny Marr describes witnessing his friend’s playing during that session as one of the great privileges of his life – listening to it comes somewhere close.
