The Messenger

One quick listen to The Messenger brings all his signatures rushing back--the intricate, intertwining arrangements, the insistent riffs finding a counterpoint in the elastic yet precise melodies, a romance with the past that doesn't negate the present.

The Messenger delivers. [Mar 2013, p.92]

The Messenger rediscovers what made the Smiths' albums great--an open-minded approach to tone and a feel that colors tunes for miles.

Marr’s guitar work can be fascinating--but it’s forever shadowed by less-appealing vocal work.

Marr has become a more assured singer, which is one of several ways this album improves on Boomslang.

The Messenger, his second solo album, is a bracing reminder of his talents as a sonic architect.

Marr’s vocals are indistinctive, although his song-writing abilities are clear. What does stand out is how fine a guitarist he has become.

It’s proof that Johnny Marr, nearly half a century old, can still unpack new skills and techniques from a hefty bag of guitar-drenched tricks.

The result is a collection of workmanlike indie-rock songs that fall some way short of being a good album and a long, long way from being the work of a Godlike Genius.

His generically Oasis-y singing won't blow anyone away, but Marr's still a master at getting jangly new-wave energy and moody atmosphere out of his instrument. [1 Mar 2013, p.66]

The Messenger does not disappoint; it brims with angular riffage, swings with sexy insouciance.

He's perfectly adequate as a singer and melody writer, but he doesn't have the indelible personality of a Morrissey or Isaac Brock. [No. 96, p.56]

The Messenger duly wipes the slate clean and bursts with the same efflorescent skills that made Johnny Marr a guitar hero for the generation which had supposedly repudiated such a concept. [Mar 2013, p.90]

This is a solid, enjoyable solo debut that’s certainly worth investigation if you’re a long-term Marr watcher.

The Messenger isn’t just a summary of everything worthwhile in contemporary rock music, it’s an insightful and informed dissection of life in 2013 and all the futile iOS updates, cyberstalking conglomerates and financial travesties that clog up the spaces between us. In a world claiming to connect us all, it argues, we’re getting more and more dislocated.

The lyrical flaws are not a fatal stab, but it’s an enormous burden.

His vocals do the job, even as his lyrics will probably keep the majority of ears fixed on the instrumentation.

It has some great guitar—satisfying our expectations on that front--and doesn’t offend. It’s a great record to throw on when DJing your parents’ Welcome To Spring community mixer.

The Messenger won't be included in the body of work that made Marr great, but it's a solid approximation of his strengths.

The Messenger isn’t groundbreaking or iconic in itself, but it’s thoroughly enjoyable music from a groundbreaking and iconic artist.

Everyone, while unsurprised that his vocals are unobtrusive and his lyrics unspectacular, will seek that greatness in the guitars. [Mar 2013, p.94]

Trouble is, the songs themselves are instantly forgettable, devoid of alluring melody or interesting lyrical content, and sung by a limited vanilla voice lacking in character.

The massively influential Smiths guitarist finally makes the solid solo debut he should've recorded a quarter-century ago.

So, no, Marr isn't exactly reinventing rock here--he already did that. The Messenger feels more like a tribute to his youth, to his home, and to all the musicians he's worked with over the past three decades.

The disc’s overall pleasantness and pasteurized charm are what save it from being wholly aggravating.

While lukewarm as a whole, The Messenger doesn't suck nearly enough to bruise Marr's status as a guitar deity on wheels.

The Messenger falls some way short of greatness, but is full of enjoyably spiky tunes.

Some of the riffs are winners, but it's just not enough to carry the album.

He's not breaking any moulds--it's solid, guitar led, pop-rock--but then Marr is the man for that job.

The [emotional] connection is missing because of The Messenger's overarching weaknesses: the voice and the lyrics.

Not that The Messenger solely ransacks the past, though: conversely, it's the clunkier, more ham-fisted retro fodder that constitute the main misfires, especially lyrically.... But when he pushes things forward, everything begins to glitter.

The Messenger isn't an album that will blow any non-believer away. It is old fashioned, in many ways. [Mar 2013, p.65]