A Smiths Fan Walks Into 1988 and Finds Viva Hate

I bought Viva Hate the day it came out in March 1988. It’s now thirty‑eight years old, and while I could tell you how old that makes me, I’d rather not trigger an existential crisis before we even get to the music. Back then, I was a Smiths fan wandering into a post‑1987 world, trying to figure out what life looked like without the band that had shaped everything. For anyone curious, the vinyl version of Viva Hate is available here.

I was still recovering from the breakup of The Smiths, my favourite band of all time, who had fallen apart in 1987 — most say August. They’d formed in 1982, released four studio albums including the masterpiece The Queen Is Dead, and finished with Strangeways, Here We Come in September 1987. Both Morrissey and Marr have said it’s their favourite, and it’s hard to disagree.

If you ignore demos, live versions, and alternate takes, The Smiths left behind seventy original songs and four covers. Most fans can identify any track within seconds — a skill I quietly brag about, though no one seems especially impressed. Those seventy‑four songs shaped so many lives, mine included, so Morrissey’s first solo album felt like a bridge between what we’d lost and whatever was coming next.

Morrissey moved quickly after the breakup, and he carried some of The Smiths’ spirit with him. Stephen Street was the biggest link — he’d engineered several Smiths records, including The Queen Is Dead, and stepped in to help Morrissey find his footing. He co‑wrote much of Viva Hate and produced the entire album. If you hear any jangly, Smith‑adjacent DNA — not quite Marr’s genius, but definitely in the family — that’s Street.

Andrew Paresi, who played drums on some Strangeways tracks, also returned for the sessions. And the overall mood of the album — English melancholy, sharp lyrics, that familiar lyricist‑plus‑composer dynamic — feels like The Smiths’ shadow still lingering, just with Street instead of Marr.

Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke weren’t part of the album, but Andy did play on several early Morrissey singles like “Interesting Drug” and “The Last of the Famous International Playboys,” with Joyce drumming on some of those too. It was a brief moment before legal tensions took over, but having three‑quarters of The Smiths involved in Morrissey’s early solo work felt like a small miracle. Without Marr, it wasn’t the same, but it was the best we had.

I’ve been listening to Viva Hate for thirty‑eight years, and beyond the iconic singles — “Everyday Is Like Sunday” and “Suedehead” — it remains a remarkably strong debut. At the time, it was seen as a confident, emotionally rich continuation of Morrissey’s world after The Smiths. It had depth, atmosphere, and several tracks that still hold up today.

In Morrissey’s discography, it usually sits in the top three or four, which says a lot when you consider albums like Vauxhall and I, Your Arsenal, You Are the Quarry, Ringleader of the Tormentors, and even his latest work, Make up is a Lie.

Essential Morrissey Vinyl

• Bona Drag
  
• Vauxhall and I
  
• You Are the Quarry
  
• Make up is a Lie
  

​
The album has a very particular mood. If you enjoy walking alone through a quiet seaside town in early spring — grey skies, a bit of cold in the air — you’ll understand the feeling immediately. “Late Night, Maudlin Street” runs seven minutes and forty seconds, and you need every one of them to let the memories unfold. The opening track, “Alsatian Cousin,” sliding into “Little Man, What Now?”, has a sharpness that pulls you in. “Break Up the Family” carries a post‑Smiths ache — not directly about the breakup, but you can feel the sense of being a little lost.

And the B‑sides from this era are incredible. Many ended up on Bona Drag: “Hairdresser on Fire,” “I Know Very Well How I Got My Name,” “Disappointed,” “Sister I’m a Poet,” “Will Never Marry,” plus extras like “Let the Right One Slip In,” “At Amber,” and “Michael’s Bones.” Some of these could have easily made Viva Hate a perfect ten.
​
Over the years, the album has become a quiet companion — a walk through my own memories, youthful hopes, and the highs and lows of life. Sometimes sad, sometimes comforting, but always quietly beautiful. Thirty‑eight years on, Viva Hate still hums in the background, steady as ever.

If you liked this, check out:

• Why Hatful of Hollow Is the Best Smiths Album — a love letter to the raw, imperfect magic that made the band matter.
• Morrissey – Make Up Is a Lie: First Impressions — a look at the complicated, brilliant, frustrating artist behind the voice.​

---

---

If you’re building your setup, you can explore the full Vinyl Essentials guide covering turntables, cleaning, and accessories.