"Ringleader of the Tormentors" preview

"You don't know a thing about their lives,
They live where you wouldn't dare to drive"
Reader, Meet Author - 1995

Attack on condescending bourgeois journalism or note to self? Either way, the notoriously self-conscious Morrissey had barely dared to drive anywhere near his home turf since 1995's "Southpaw Grammar." As frontman of the Smiths, and as a solo artist, Morrissey was the architect of all that we now know as "indie." A harsh working class realism pervaded all of his early writing, but suffused with a romanticism that sought to transform "outsiderdom" into something desperately, unhappily beautiful. The Smiths' influence can be seen everywhere today, yet Morrissey seemed curiously unassured and, post-1995, intent on moving ever further from the mainstream pop orbit he himself helped fashion.

1994's gloriously doom-laden "Vauxhall and I" captured an empathy and sadness that most of his previous work had only hinted (or even laughed) at and crystallised Morrissey's most human collection of songs into a transcendent, atmospheric album, documenting touchingly a period of personal loss and self-doubt. It was a grand gesture - some even hinted this might be "farewell." Fans and critics alike swooned but it left Morrissey with a problem. He needed somewhere to run to; somewhere else to be. 1995's "Southpaw Grammar" felt like an escape, combining fearless, character-based writing with prog rock elements and oh-so-english ragged pop, it received a lukewarm reception. At only eight songs long and with a couple of songs resembling filler, he was seemingly running out of steam. It was an album big on ambition but failed to deliver on the promise of its sprawling opening track. 1997's "Maladjusted" sounded bored and - despite several very good songs - it felt flabby and generic. Fans were bemused by his solipsistic lyrics, his obsession with court cases and revenge, and - ironically - many felt he had become precisely the patronising bourgeois writer he had once mocked.

A long hiatus and self-financed world tours followed, while he was without a record label, and finally came the long-awaited comeback album, 2004's "You Are the Quarry." The obsessions with legal matters, tax men and former bandmates remained but while "Maladjusted" felt like a breakdown, "Quarry" felt like therapy. A collection of very good songs - hampered only by a superficial flirtation with dance rhythms, dated production and generic playing on one or two songs - it featured two of his finest singles since the 80s in "Irish Blood, English Heart" and "First of the Gang to Die." These two songs, in particular, hinted at a return to core Morrissey values.

"Ringleader of the Tormentors" finds Morrissey and his band in a more forceful, rock-based mood than his last album. Songs about court cases are vanquished, and the bloated feel of a handful of songs on "Quarry" has also - thankfully - gone. Jesse Tobias on guitars and producer Tony Visconti join long-time co-writers Alain Whyte and Boz Boorer and seem to have added much-needed verve to the band's sound. This record bubbles with a freshness and spontaneity not seen on a Morrissey record since "Your Arsenal," and, while it's more eclectic than any other Morrissey solo album, it also has a coherence and completeness, both thematically and musically. Indeed, this album once again fashions a unique sound in the way recent Morrissey albums have singularly failed to do. Lyrically, Morrissey explores themes of death, love and struggle in a far less parochial way than in years gone by. Peppered with references to Rome - where the album was recorded -"Ringleader" seems to put it more succinctly than any other Morrissey record and brings Morrissey a step back from the precipice of self-parody he was in danger of slipping into after "Quarry." In fact, there's something almost optimistic about the album. As ever, the main subject of the album is Morrissey, but in among the poignant reflections and gallows humour lies a lightness of touch and playfulness and something quite... hopeful?

While the album takes Morrissey off in a new direction musically, references to his past work abound. Touches of organ recall "Reel Around the Fountain" and "My Lovelife," there are jaunty Smiths-like melodies, bolder, brassier songs reminiscent of Slade or T-Rex with a touch of the band's rockabilly leanings, and gentler songs that could have graced "Vauxhall and I." As great as this collection of songs is, what really grabs the listener is the power of the playing and the resonance Visconti has woven into the production. Morrissey audibly stretches his vocal range and reaches for notes, adding to his voice an urgency we haven't heard since "The Queen is Dead." He sounds like he needs to sing these songs. That's something we haven't felt for a very long time.

The centrepiece of the album is an extraordinary song called "Life is a Pigsty," which is not like anything else ever put down on a record before. Co-written by Whyte, it's a soaring song with stunning melody and production values. Recalling the complexity of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody," it manages to convey Morrissey at his most empathic and showcases his band's playing with an understated elegance that somehow manages to mould 7 minutes of operatic rock into something resembling a pop song. Elsewhere, potential singles "The Youngest was The Most Loved" and "I'll Never Be Anybody's Hero Now" capture the old pop Morrissey at his best, while weirdly droning closer "At Last I am Born" - along with "Pigsty" - help to foment something essential in "Ringleader." An Italian children's choir makes a guest appearance, jazzy horns turn up on the chipper "I Just Want to See The Boy Happy," and Ennio Morricone trumps the delightfully ersatz synth strings on "Quarry" with some beautiful string arrangements. Although the spirit of Marc Bolan seems to loom large over "Ringleader," this feels like it was written and recorded in around 2006, instead of sometime in 1972. It takes elements of the past and turns them into something thoroughly vibrant and modern.

It's not perfect. There are less ebullient pop moments on the album. First single "You Have Killed Me" is hummable but not hugely memorable; "I Will See You in Far Off Places" is interesting but so heavy and dynamically unusual, it's difficult to listen to. It's a "love it or skip it" track. Finally, "To Me You Are a Work of Art" lacks the finesse of other songs here. Nonetheless, even the weaker moments have a certain charm, and contribute something to the coherence of the album as a whole. Masterpiece or flawed masterpiece? Flawed masterpiece, of course. Like every great Smiths and Morrissey solo record.

That Morrissey can record albums like this in his mid 40s is extraordinary. What is more remarkable is that this album sounds absolutely essential. Like Oasis' "Definitely Maybe," Pulp's "Different Class" or "A Northern Soul" by The Verve, this album doesn't sound avant garde, but it does sound very right. Could 2006 be Morrissey's year? Don't bet against it. This album will almost certainly make another appearance in the end of year music press awards.

Morrissey seems to have rediscovered his confidence and his pop sensibility, while his band have captured the magic that made their first two records so widely acclaimed. In 2001, you'd have put money on Morrissey never returning to the pop mainstream, but this album says he is back, and he's telling us he's ready once again to live where others dare not drive. It may be the best album he's released since "Vauxhall and I" or it may - in fact - be his finest ever solo album. That this album takes him back to the dizzying heights he enjoyed with the Smiths (at least musically) means his rapidly swelling fanbase will not be disappointed by "Ringleader." Which all leaves only one question remaining: Is the music world ready for a shy, middle aged Irish-English pop idol with a taste for Oscar Wilde and expensive lounge jackets?