Exuberance, vivaciousness, brightness – these are the qualities that Johnny Marr believes guitar music can bring to the charts of today. It is their perceived absence in popular music that has driven Marr, after decades of collaborations and partnerships, to finally go it alone and release his first true solo record. The Messenger is, unquestionably, an animated and vibrant collection of tracks that castigates lethargy in all forms; but it also a record in which the lyrical content fails to match the technicality and excitement of the guitar melodies. The outcome is a curiously unbalanced album that possesses the seeds of brilliance, yet lacks a vocalist capable of nourishing and developing those seeds.

The opening track, ‘The Right Thing Right’, is a volley of straight rock. It’s a bold entrance that permits no meandering prologue; instead, an uncompromising barrage of stuttering guitars seizes the listener. The Messenger refuses introductions – it prefers to position the amplifier right in the listener’s face. It is not, however, an album that harks back to, or plays on the listener’s nostalgia for, traditional rock music. The unsettling harmonics and hostile bass-line of ‘I Want the Heartbreak’ illustrates that The Messenger has no intention of playing it safe. On ‘Say Demesne’, plectrums scrape against strings, dark synth chords ring out, and the song finishes with a tremolo-picking solo that howls defiance and insubordination.

Undoubtedly, the two stand-out tracks on the record are ‘European Me’ and ‘New Town Velocity.’ Both feature the distinctive free-flowing guitar melodies that have earned Marr the admiration of critics and fellow musicians. Such sprawling musical phrases ensure that the melancholic atmosphere of ‘European Me’ never slips into directionless despondency, but manages to retain both sadness and energy. The song’s satisfying female backing vocals furnish the track with a real sense of emotion. On ‘New Town Velocity’, an electric-acoustic chord sequence transforms into two interconnecting guitar melodies that remind the listener of some of The Smiths’ best work. Thankfully, the record is careful not to overuse Marr’s signature style, and prefers to emphasise his virtuosity through contrast. The intertwining melodies of ‘New Town Velocity’ are followed by an unexpectedly simple solo, which ensures the listener is left enthralled, and never exhausted, by Marr’s guitar-work.

Yet no matter what heights Marr’s playing reaches, The Messenger cannot hide the fact that he is a terrible lyricist. In a recent interview, Marr commented that his favourite vocalists are not those who sing about their experiences, but those who focus on their ‘environment.’ Unfortunately, Marr is unable to offer anything more than tired criticisms of technology and fame – leaving one to speculate that if he had focused on personal feeling, in spite of his instincts, he might have provided the listener with more captivating and original lyrics. Over the record’s twelve tracks, the absence of any poetic flair becomes not just a missed opportunity, but a severe flaw which seriously undermines the listener’s enjoyment of an otherwise impressive record.

Despite The Messenger’s undeniable strengths, one can’t help but make the predictable, though nonetheless accurate observation, that Marr needs a musical partner. Marr needs someone who can give his record a narrative – someone capable of making penetrative observations – an individual worthy enough to accompany his technical playing. In short, decades later, Marr still needs a Morrissey-like figure; and until he finds, or admits he needs, this elusive companion, Marr’s best work will always be behind him.