MORRISSEY “Kill Uncle” <i> Sire/Reprise</i> **1/2

Why doesn’t the ex-Smithy just give in and become a Noel Coward for our times, which seems to be his destiny? Then we could all have a good little laugh at the self-parody of lines such as the one that starts this album: “Our frank and open deep conversations, they get me nowhere, they bring me down, so give it a rest, won’t you?”

Alas it’s not to be. Morrissey remains the Master of Moans, the Lord of Loneliness, the Emperor of Existential Crises, the Sire of Self-Absorption. Laughs--even little ones--are few on his latest. And that opening salvo, it turns out, isn’t even self-parody, but a real swipe at someone who dared intrude on his own misery. Or if it is meant as self-mocking, he spoils it by concluding the song with a desperate plea for someone to “stop me from thinking all the time about everything so deeply, so bleakly.”

Of course, he is the best at this, and he does step outside himself for a minute of tenderness (“Driving Your Girlfriend Home”) and a real moment of self-directed wit (“I’m the End of the Family Line”). But the overall malaise is getting old, and new producers Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley fail to give new perspective. (The modern music-hall styles they formerly plied with Madness would have been perfect here.) Maybe it’s time to say uncle.