Yea-Sayers:

The following was generously transcribed by Felice Vaiani:

Essential singles and radio sessions compilation - and the definitive early portrait of the group.

NOT MANY bands are given a second chance to make their debut, but then not many bands rewrite the rules quite like The Smiths did in 1984. Despite feverish anticipation, the release of their self-titled album in February has not been greeted with unanimous hosannas. NME complained about "elephant's ear production" (grey and flat)*, while Morrissey and Johnny Marr, buoyant in public, expressed private disappointment. It was almost fitting - Morrissey's lyrics knew all about grasping defeat from the jaws of victory - yet part of their appeal was always that they were the pale-and-interesting outsiders making supremely confident artistic gestures. So, audaciously, Hatful Of Hollow appeared just nine months after The Smiths was released, and it quickly became the record many considered to be the group's true debut. Containing BBC radio sessions for John Peel and David Jensen, plus the band's singles and B-sides to date, it was and essential document for the new devotee and a blueprint for independent music.
It's widely thought that John Porter's production on The Smiths lets it down. Perhaps it's fairer to look at not what the record lacks, but at what Hatful Of Hollow has. There's a rawness that puts little studio distance between band and song. "People are so nervous and desperate when they do those [BBC] sessions, so it seems to bring the best out of them", Morrissey said in 1984, and the tremendous versions of Still Ill and and What Difference Does it Make? here prove his point. Sound aside, however, it's the very compendiousness of Hatful Of Hollow that makes it vital. When it comes to The Smiths' early career, it's everything you need. Never conceived as an album, this completeness makes it much more than a cash-in compilation. It's an atlas of The Smiths' curious geography: disused railway lines, a hillside desolate, a river the colour of lead, a club where you could meet somebody who really loves you. Here is the humdrum town rendered exotic, intoxicating yet unshakably grim, like the gas seeping out of a bedsit boiler. Thematically, too, it's all here: encoded sexuality (William It Was Really Nothing, You've Got Everything Now); tabloid-alarming allusions to paedophilia (Handsome Devil, Reel Around The Fountain); people revving their engines for a journey they know they'll never make (These Things Take Time, Hand In Glove, pretty much every track), at odds with rock 'n' roll's fondness for instant gratification.
The Smiths, however, stalled no more. With its stabs at pleasure amid inescapable greyness, Hatful Of Hollow was the perfect end to an Orwellian year. It shows a band who not only had the musical gifts to create an abundance of great songs at this tender stage of their career, but the aesthetic instinct to create their own world. Here, The Smiths didn't just define themselves, they defined a generation.

ALSO CHECK OUT: THE ASSOCIATES Sulk [ASSOCIATES, 1982]

THE FAX

PRODUCTION: Roger Pusey, John Porter, Dale Griffin, The Smiths

RECORDED: BBC Maida Vale Studios; Strawberry Studios, Manchester (Hand In Glove); Jam Studios, London; Island Studios, London.

WEIRD SCIENCE: The sleeve features Fabrice Collette and his tattoo of a Jean Cocteau drawing.

WHAT THEY SAID: "Bringing magnificence out of misery, these charming Smiths are vivid and in there prime." NME

KEY TRACKS
These Things Take Time
How Soon Is Now?
Handsome Devil
- Uncredited Magazine Scan, 2000's

An audacious mid-price retrospective of BBC session tracks released mere months after the band's debut and featuring superior versions of many of the same songs. It also includes the superlative singles, "William, It Was Really Nothing, "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now" and "How Soon Is Now", plus a cluster of spine-tingling rarities such as "Girl Afraid". (*****)
- Stephen Dalton, Uncut, 1998

Saucerful of Secret Sweeties
"Would you like to marry me? When Morrissey pops the (metaphorical) question, what can you actually say to the Thin Boy? Pour scorn on his bewitching lines and scoff in the face of his musical eloquence? Or submit and offer to buy the ring?
Before scrawling an answer in black ink across a bared chest, it might pay to heed a tidily-packaged and atractively-priced (16 tracks for f3.99) assortment of singles, B-sides and Radio One sessions. Similar in style to Elvis Costello's vital 'Ten Bloody Marys' compilation, 'Hatful Of Hollow' is a golden hour of The Smiths, spasmodically spanning a period of 18 months from their early John Peel and David Jensen broadcasts up to their most recent single 'William, It Was Really Nothing'.
It is a patchy, erratic affair and often all the better for that. A song like the maudlin epic 'Reel Around the Fountain' that was later fleshed out and cushioned by the softer production on the debut album is included here in raw, less 'pleasant' form; 'Accept Yourself' and 'These Things Take Time' from the Jensen session are thrillingly abrasive; 'Still Ill' and 'Girl Afraid' remind one of a dull, prosaic competence which marked the band's musicianship in their early days; the wistful 'Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want' and the dense, relatively complex 'How Soon Is Now' illustrate the new heights to which they have recently aspired.
But what difference does it make? The most staggering changes are not in Morrissey's beguiling, ambivalent obsessions, which have remained similar throughout, but in the flowering of Johnny 'Guitar' Marr, that chiming man, into one of the era's truly great instrumentalists. Compare the monosyllabic flatness of his early picking with the cascading mandolins that close 'Please Please Please' and it will be clear just how much he has come on. His role in the band is now worthy of at least equal billing with Morrissey's, a fact acknowledged on the awesome 'How Soon', a track previously only available on the 'William' 12": with the voice buried deep in a clammy, claustrophobic mix, Marr - adriotly supported by the two unsung grafter Smiths - unleashes a barrage of multi-tracked psychedelic rockabilly, his Duane Eddy twang destroyed in an eerie quagmire of quivering guitar noise. Magnificent!
And so to the calculated mystique of Morrissey: the man-child has mastered the knack of giving away absolutely nothing while appearing to be the most frank, disarming, and explicit wordsmith currently working in pop. But, for all their sexual ambivalence and lyrical unorthodoxy, his songs are universal in the vulnerabilities and desires they seek to express. And it is that, as much as Marr's unfettered brilliance, that has given this group the unmistakeable stamp of greatness.
Pride of place here should perhaps go to the track never before available on vinyl, the Peel session version of 'This Night Has Opened My Eyes', a sordid but plaintive tale of a young mother getting rid of an unwanted baby in which Morrissey's vivid observation of the woman's conflicting emotions does nothing to detract from the impact of the gruesome tragedy.
Seeking splendour in simplicity and bringing magnificence out of misery, these charming Smiths are vivid and in their prime."
- Adrian Thrills

It's a Fair Cap!
"Some would find it difficult to work up much enthusiasm for what is by any other name a ragbag of Radio One session-recorded tracks topped and tailed with their most recent singles, but as the lone voice of dissention amongst Smiths followed at the time of the release of their self-titled album, I couldn't account for the demise of their brittle beauty - captured on those Peel and Jensen patronised recordings - and the rise of a no less rigorous but sadly less vigorous Smiths.
I found it merely churlish that they should leave the sublime 'This Charming Man' off the album and shocking that they should let producer John Porter remix their volcanic debut, 'Hand In Glove', for inclusion.
Instead, I stuck to my tape of the sessions, including the fiendishly good 'Back to the Old House' (since a featured B-side) and 'Accept Yourself' - and marvelled at the cutting clarity of these 'garage' productions that nevertheless allowed the magnificent 'Reel Around the Fountain' to haunt and hurt in a way the 'official' version missed by a mile.
Which is - surprise, surprise - where 'Hatful Of Hollow' comes in. At last gathered together on vinyl where they truly belonged are these very same songs plus the last two singles and B-sides, and it's the perfect stop gap/document depending on your predilection for the Smiths.
Of course, we've learnt to laugh at the more salacious aspects of Morrissey's self-pity and theatrical torture - and become blase in the presence of Marr's lithe melodies - but then who can retain the shock of the new? Suffice to say, few have matched the economy and excitement of the Smiths' patented dynamics.
And I find the liner photo particularly fetching for that very reason: it brings to the fore the maligned but magnificent rhythm section of Joyce and Rourke. Stodgy some say, but revealed in the frills-free (basic?) productions, those drums and bass just keep turning; prodding and pricking the gossamer sheen of Marr's guitar and the lacey skin of Morrissey's vocal.
Thoughtfully priced and luxuriously packaged, 'Hatful Of Hollow' should find a place beside 'The Smiths' in every collection - and then we want to hear those early Troy Tate-produced sessions and any stray collaborations with Sandie Shaw, right?" (****)
- Bill Black, Sounds, November 17, 1984 (Special thanks to Madonissey)

Nay-Sayers:

Empty Promises
"The eminently quotable Morrissey said it himself. On the subject of Lloyd Cole, he told Ian Pye: 'Lloyd is a tremendously nice person, much more fascinating than anything he's ever put on vinyl...' I've no idea whether Morrissey can be described as 'nice' or not - I'd suspect not - but just switch his name for Lloyd's and you're close to my reaction to The Smiths. In other words, the things which obviously go on in Morrissey's head from dawn til dusk and beyond are a damn sight more interesting than Smiths records. I keep waiting for the exception, but so far all I've come up with is 'Back to the Old House,' an affecting little piece where The Smiths' formulaic modal melodies match neatly with a lyric where, for once, Morrissey isn't trying to be Dorian Gray.
'Old House' makes an appearance on 'Hatful Of Hollow' which is something, I suppose. The LP is a collection of Radio 1 sessions The Smiths recorded for John Peel and David Jensen (forgive him, Lord), four sessions in all that, at the last count, have been transmitted 12 times, according to the rather nicely-written biog included here for the benefit of ignorant hacks. In addition, you get 'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now' and 'William, It Was Really Nothing' plus B-sides excluding 'Suffer Little Children'. That's caused quite enough fuss already.
For f3.99, it's a generously-filled package, always assuming, of course, you want more Smiths in the first place. I can't for the life of me see why anybody would want to own a copy of 'William, It Was Really Nothing' under any circumstances, especially if they already had a copy of the almost identical 'What Difference Does It Make?' 'Handsome Devil' is another job round the same chord sequence only a little quicker, while 'Hand In Glove' (produced by the band themselves) appears to have a few possibilities which remain stubbornly unexplored.
Perhaps I haven't been quite fair. 'How Soon Is Now?' features an ominous mechanical throb which gives The Smiths a sinister quality somewhat removed from their usual Edwardian drawing-room whisper, while 'Reel Around the Fountain' really deserves better than they dull grey mix it receives here. Both it and 'Heaven Knows' recall uncannily the fumbling guitars and fractured melodic musing of the lamented Bronte Sisters, another band too clever for their own good.
Perhaps Morrissey should be read and not heard. Time he did the singles again, come to think of it."
- Adam Sweeting, Melody Maker

Smiths-Speak:

"There seems to be a few aspects to it. We wanted it released on purely selfish terms because we liked all those tracks and those versions. I wanted to present those songs again in the most flattering form. Those sessions almost caught the very heart of what we did - there was something positively messy about them, which was very positive. People are so nervous and desperate when they do those sessions, so it seems to bring the best out of them."
- Morrissey explains the reason for releasing "Hatful Of Hollow", Jamming!, December, 1984

'This Night Has Opened My Eyes' is a Taste Of Honey song - putting the entire play to words."
- Morrissey, NME, June 7, 1986

"At the time I wasn't too sure about Hatful Of Hollow being released - although the radio sessions were great, I was keen for them to remain just being that. In hindsight, I realised there were certain tracks - particularly Handsome Devil - that had something the produced version just didn't. It's a very valid record."
- Johnny Marr, The Guitar Magazine, January 1997