It was still early in the evening when Strangeways dropped us back into 1992 with a little “Glamorous Glue.” Up on the balcony at Avalon, the crowd sang along, “everyone lies/nobody minds/everyone lies” and the energy grew more dynamic as the song progressed. If you knew the song— and, certainly, everyone in this room did— you could anticipate what would happen once The Smiths/Morrissey tribute band reached the final verse. 

“We look to Los Angeles—“

The crowd roared, nearly overpowering the second half of the sentence. 

“— for the language we use.” 

Down on the floor, right in front of the stage, people jump up and down, their arms waving in the air as they chant, “London is dead! London is dead!”

In this brief moment where L.A. pride and Morrissey-mania converge, I realize why I’ve always had a good time at The Smiths/Morrissey Convention. It’s a legit, local gathering made by and for fans that still happens in spite of all the forces that make it more difficult for subcultures to exist. 

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