Southpaw Grammar came out in 1995, at a point when Morrissey was really leaning into experimentation and shaking up expectations. Coming off albums that balanced his classic wit with pop sensibilities, this one feels darker, more sprawling, and a little unpredictable. It’s the kind of record where you can tell he was pushing himself – and his listeners – into new territory.

The sound is punchy and a bit abrasive at times, with guitars that can be sharp or swirling and arrangements that wander in unusual directions. There’s a sense of drama and urgency running through the album, mixed with Morrissey’s trademark lyrical flair – sardonic, witty, and occasionally heartbreaking. It’s not a conventional pop record, but it has its hooks and moments that grab you if you’re willing to lean into it.

Tracks like “The Boy Racer” hit with a raw energy that’s classic Morrissey, while “The Teachers Are Afraid of the Pupils” showcases his theatrical side with driving rhythm and clever storytelling. Even some of the longer, moodier tracks have this hypnotic quality that pulls you in once you adjust to the album’s pace.

What keeps Southpaw Grammar interesting today is its boldness. Morrissey isn’t trying to please everyone here, and that makes it feel alive and unpredictable. It’s fun to revisit because you notice something new each time – whether it’s a guitar flourish, a clever lyric, or just the sheer force of his personality shining through. It’s a challenging album, but in the best way.