Fab Foundations # 13: “Family Feud”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Songs: “Too Many People” and “How Do You Sleep”
Albums: Ram (Paul McCartney solo) and Imagine (John Lennon solo)
Release Dates: May 1971 and September 1971

Relationships can be fragile at times. Even the closest ones. Live long enough and you’re bound to go through at least one major rift in a relationship with someone close to you.  It does not matter how nice of a person you think you are, or how sincere; it happens. The rift could be related to a significant disagreement, or a misunderstanding, or a breach in what one of you considers confidential, or an apparent slight, or any number of other possibilities. These situations can be among the most difficult that we face in life. The memories linger, even if the two parties are able to make amends. Quite often, this repair job never happens though, and we are left with an open mental wound, despite our best efforts to cover it up. 

The fact we’ve all been there is why we often find ourselves to be willing ears whenever someone close to us finds themselves in that sinking ship with someone else close to them. In other words, we can all relate to our close one’s struggle, seeing as it’s relatively easy to put ourselves in his/her shoes. The advice flows from there. The same goes (sans advice) when it comes to people whom we do not know personally who have made the news for this same sad reason (in many cases the reason for making the news is due to their rift manifesting into something worse). That “what would I do?” is always a stone’s throw away. It is part of our shared broken humanity. 

The Rock world has had its share of public spats between bandmembers over the 70 years or so that it’s been a genre. Off the top of my head there’s Don vs Phil Everly, Paul Simon vs Art Garfunkel, Roger Waters vs David Gilmore, Brian Wilson vs Mike Love, Mick Jagger vs Keith Richards, Levon Helm vs Robbie Robertson, Pete Townshend vs Roger Daltrey, Ray vs Dave Davies, and John Fogerty vs the rest of Creedence Clearwater Revival.  The most intriguing of them all for me, however, was Paul McCartney vs John Lennon, which played out primarily in the early 70s, immediately after the band broke up.

One big reason that the McCartney/Lennon feud is so interesting to me is that it was expressed in their music…and good music at that. Paul dedicated roughly half an album to the bout. John pretty much packed his wallop into one song.  If only taking the release dates of the relevant music into account, one would have to conclude that Paul started it.  But who knows what went on behind closed doors? 

Before this past week, it had probably been about 20 years since I’d last listened to Ram; Paul McCartney’s second solo album on which his lyrical Lennon-bashing occurs. It’s one of those discs that I only have on vinyl, and with our turntable tucked away in the attic, it’s been slowly fading in the rearview mirror of my music memory. There was a time, however, when I really enjoyed Ram, and I was excited this week (after acquiring the cd) to see if I could get some of that synergistic spark back.

If you don’t tune in all that closely to the lyrics, Ram has a laid back, domestic, rural feel about it. It borders on sounding deceptively whimsical. This makes some sense seeing that, leading up to the recording, Paul and Linda McCartney had spent much of their time living on the remote Scottish peninsula of Kintyre, raising their young family (more, specifically the Mull of Kintyre, which is on the southern tip of the peninsula, jutting out into the North Channel of the Irish Sea). Beatles aficionados typically recognize the choice of this locale by the McCartney’s as an escape from reality. That conclusion becomes apparent when you watch footage of Paul McCartney during that period. He looks depressed. He’s grown a hermit-like beard. He comes across as a bit unmoored.

Who could blame him? Paul was confused and ostracized, not only from his ex-bandmates (who to at least some degree had ganged up on him), but also in the press, where he would get scathing reviews for his early solo efforts while John, George and Ringo were getting glowing reviews for theirs.  He likely was going through a reevaluation, like anyone would who suddenly felt negatively signaled out after a long period of success and accolades (not that it’s entirely relevant to McCartney’s situation in the early 70s, but Bob Dylan’s song “Foot of Pride” does an amazing job of capturing such circumstances in song).  

In the meantime, John Lennon was starting life anew in New York City, which included peace activism with Yoko Ono (see Fab Foundations # 10).  Lennon was in a far better frame of mind than McCartney at the time. Yes, he too would see his own walls closing in a few years later; going on a year-long binder, dealing with endless deportation threats (including Nixonian FBI wiretapping), and fighting for his Green Card (some viewed all this as a comeuppance). But in the early 70s, Lennon was feeling his oats. 

One of the biggest differences between Lennon and McCartney as individuals is made crystal clear in their songwriting styles, which goes all the way back to their earliest years together in a band.  Lennon wrote a lot about himself, which could often be confessional (“I’m a Loser”, “Help”, “Norwegian Wood”, “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”, “Jealous Guy”, “I’m Losing You”, among others).  McCartney wrote more from an observers’ view (“Eleanor Rigby”, “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”, “Fool on the Hill” or any number of his early love songs).  In Lennon’s thinking, he himself let it all hang out while he viewed McCartney as covering up his true feelings, which Lennon believed had to have built up inside over time (if so, it all comes out on Ram). I’m sure many of us can put ourselves in John’s shoes (I’m one of them).

When John Lennon met Yoko Ono in the mid-to-late 60s, he began to tackle many of his insecurities (which included his bizarre “Primal Scream” therapy) going all the way back to childhood. Yes, he had a difficult upbringing, which can explain this need to cleanse, but Paul McCartney’s youth was not a bed of roses. Far from it. He too lost his Mom at a young age and in many ways, he too would have to fend for himself. In McCartney’s thinking, he would not dwell on this negativity though, and so at times he must have viewed Lennon as walking a fine line in terms of sounding too egocentric. I’m sure many of us can put ourselves in Paul’s shoes (I’m one of them).

Paul McCartney’s Ram opens with “Too Many People” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y21aX98QHSc ). The very first words out of his mouth as the song ramps up are “Piss off”.  The song then goes on to elucidate on that opening expletive by accusing Lennon of throwing it all away (the Beatles) for a niche lifestyle, playing protest music and “preaching practices” to a niche audience. “Now what can be done for you”, McCartney repeats throughout the song. The closing lyric appears to be making a claim that he (McCartney) has still got it, and now Lennon will have to witness this magic from afar. It’s a fantastic tune which includes some ominous lead guitar licks. 

Other songs on the album hit at Lennon some more (and to a lesser degree George Harrison and Ringo Star), including “3 Legs” (“when I thought you was my friend; but you let me down; put my heart around the bend”), “Smile Away” (“I met a friend of mine and he did say ‘man, I can smell your breath a mile away’ ”), and “Dear Boy” (“I hope you never know, Dear Boy, how much you missed”). The song “Ram On” appears related to all this emotion too, sounding to me like a self-motivator to move on from the Beatles. It all adds up as an attempt to exorcise a plateful of pain…. that’s the feel I get anyways, while listening.

The first volley had been hurled with some pretty good music (which, I’m glad to say did reverberate for me this week). But as Paul McCartney was soon to find out, you really don’t want to get into a war of musical words with John Lennon. 

For starters, Lennon does McCartney’s opening words “Piss off” on Ram one better, seeing as you don’t even have to listen to a single note off John’s Imagine album - released 4 months later - to get a sense that a return volley was in the cards. In this case it was literally a card insert, which shows John Lennon holding a pig by the ears (the album cover of Paul McCartney’s Ram shows him holding a ram by his horns, close to the ears). It’s a not-so-subtle hint of what was to come. Side note: McCartney also had an inner sleeve with images on it: One of them a photo of 2 beetles copulating…. insinuating perhaps that one “beetle” (or Beatle as the case may be) was screwing the other. 

Lennon’s Imagine songs are primarily related to his aforementioned tendency for self-analysis (as well as his vision of utopia, exemplified in the title track, his protestations, and his love for Yoko Ono). But “Crippled Inside” gets in a few jabs (including the lines “you can hide your face behind a smile, but one thing you can’t hide is when your crippled inside”).  And then comes the haymaker: “How Do You Sleep” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teD9t-lO_o0 ).

The song starts off in similar fashion to how the album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, with a string section warming up for a big show. And then the ominous music and vocals kick in.  What follows are a series of lyrical lines that are a masterful combination of caustic and comedic, including:

• “Those freaks was right when they said you was dead” (referring to the “Paul is dead” rumors)
• “You live with straights who tell you, you was king”
• “The only thing you done was yesterday” (referring to Paul’s song “Yesterday” – which expresses true confessional emotion in Lennon’s mind. This line also insinuates that McCartney’s best days are behind him… a clever double entendre)
• And of course, the repeat chorus “how do you sleep at night”. 

The last verse is too good to break apart:

“A pretty face may last a year or two
But pretty soon they’ll see what you can do
The sound you make is muzak to my ears
You must have learned something in all those years”

George Harrison guest stars to play a killer lead guitar for the bridge.

Game. Set. Match. The war of music pretty much came to an end with “How Do You Sleep”. Paul McCartney and John Lennon spent the rest of the decade in a state of civil truce. At least in public.

There are two sides to every spat.  Ain’t it ever so humble when you can see the other side’s point-of-view and act accordingly. It may have been fun for the fans and critics to suck in the sing-along verbal barrage between Paul McCartney and John Lennon, but what it really came down to was that there was some genuine pain getting tossed around in “Too Many People” and “How Do You Sleep”.  This speaks for any battle between those once close and now apart. The lesson learned is that we should all consider swallowing our pride in such circumstances. More often than not, we will find that old relationship ready and waiting for the healing process.

- Pete

p.s. In all my blog entries (~ 315 and counting) I don’t believe I’ve themed any of them on more than one song or album. That pattern had to end here.

Fab Foundations # 12: “Love Packaging”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “Because”
Album: Abbey Road
Release Date: September 1969

I’ve been listening to Abbey Road all week. Definitely one of the best albums of all time. One of the reasons I like this Beatles album so much is that it was the last album they made together, and like most of us, I find story-endings rather intriguing. What’s really cool though is that the band kinda knew this too. In turn, each one of them put his heart and soul into Abbey Road.  Hey, if you gotta move on, you might as well do it right (or as Neil Young would say …. better to burn out than fade away), and the Beatles certainly proved they could end things on the highest of high notes with Abbey Road. Yes, indeed, as was the case with the Who on their final album with Keith Moon (Who Are You), the Beatles went out with a bang.

Anyhow, this Fab Foundations series is the first one where I’ve been playing in a band during the period that I write. Several years ago, I began putting a concerted effort into learning how to play music by signing up for bass guitar lessons (up to that point I had been undisciplined and inconsistent). Then, last spring, I was asked to join a church band. I was intimidated and a bit ambivalent at first (I’d always envisioned getting my break with an original rock band), but I was ultimately coerced and cajoled by the band leader to give it a go.  It ended up being the best thing that could have happened. The entire band - keyboardist, drummer, lead guitarist, rhythm guitarist, and four singers - were all professionals (or going to music school) and they were patient with me…. the only amateur in the bunch.  They’re dedication to their craft forced me to get yet more focused and ultimately this led to a significant improvement in my musical know-how. 

I’d always wanted to learn to play bass, going all the way back to my teenage years, but I had never gotten around to it for one reason or another. Perhaps all this blog writing about music finally got me rolling. I can’t say for certain. Whatever the case may be, playing in a band has given me much more insight into the importance of doing just that if you want to improve your musicianship (as opposed to just practicing). In a band, you are on the spot to get it right, primarily because you are performing in front of a crowd (or preparing to do so), but also because you don’t want to waste anyone’s time. You also find yourself leaning on your band-mates, especially on the fly, and slowly you gain an ear to play off them (in my case, this has been done most often by listening to the drummer, seeing as we - bassist and drummer – must work jointly as the rhythm section). There are all sorts of non-verbal communications happening. The more you play the more you pick up on these cues.

Through it all, I’ve learned to appreciate the world of the musician even more, which came into focus this week as I listened to Abbey Road. The musicianship of each member of the Beatles shines even brighter now as I listen to the album. For the rest of this entry I will highlight some of my favorite musical moments on the record, breaking my critique down by band member. I’ll also highlight some of what each Beatle brought to the table as a band-mate prior to and during the sessions.

Ringo Starr

Despite his lack of songwriting production, Ringo Starr was always made to feel an equal in the Beatles. He projected this too. At least that’s the impression I’ve always had, going all the way back to my earliest days of dissecting this band. One big thing Ringo had going for him was that the other 3 Beatles loved him. John, Paul, and George quarreled with each other, but Ringo forever seemed to be above the fray.

Abbey Road showcases Ringo’s finest drumming. There’s a higher degree of sophistication to it than anything else he ever did with the Beatles. Moments that stand out include the bridge to “Something” and “Here Comes the Sun” along with the entirety of “Come Together”.  This sophistication (along with Harrison stepping up his songwriting skills to top tier status) gives Abbey Road a true even-keel feel in terms of band-member contribution. Yes, here we hear a well-balanced, well-lubricated ensemble.

Of the 237 songs written by the Beatles, Ringo Starr is credited for writing just two. One of these, “Octopus’s Garden”, is on Abbey Road (the other is “Don’t Pass Me By” which is on the White Album). Despite the odds (2:237) I find “Octopus’s Garden” the most joyous of all Beatles songs (side note: the lyrics are very apropos for the times we are living in at the moment).  What makes these odds even more extreme is that the song came together on this swan-song album, at a time when the Beatles were on the verge of breakup. Due to this atmosphere, most of the album is serious in nature, but not “Octopus’s Garden”. Indeed, when Ringo sings….

“I’d ask my friends to come and see
An octopus’s garden with me”

and….

“We would sing and dance around
Because we know we can’t be found”

…. there is such childlike exuberance in his delivery, that you can’t help but get swept away by the tide of it. John, Paul and George all get swept away in it too. I love their backing vocals (“ahh, ahh, ahh” …), layered and bubbling behind Harrison’s upbeat lead-guitar bridge. It sounds like they are underwater, having the time of their lives in that cephalopod’s brilliant garden.

Ringo the peacemaker, wins again!

Paul McCartney

Paul McCartney comes across as the most sober and solemn of the Beatles on Abbey Road.  I think there are two reasons for this. One is that John Lennon had finally gotten in his head. The other is that he was clearly hurting the most out of everyone from the notion of a Beatles breakup.  The wonderful consequence about all this is…. well, my goodness, does he ever deliver.

The most underrated aspect of the Beatles musicianship has always been McCartney’s bass playing, which shines oh so brightly on Abbey Road. Not long ago I read a John Lennon quote that he too thought that Paul’s bass playing was exquisite and that, somewhat against his band-mate's nature, McCartney was always a bit coy about this. McCartney sprinkles fantastic bits of melodic bass touches all over this album. For example, the quick patter at the end of “You Never Give Me Your Money”, which happens after each “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, all good children go to heaven” line.  Or just before John Lennon lets out his wail on “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”. Side note: I’d mention the entirety of bass notes in “Oh! Darling” here too, but to my surprise this is not Paul, and so you will have to go down to the George Harrison section to get my take on that effort.

Personally, I never put much thought into the notion of a Beatles rhythm section, because McCartney has forever come across as being above such labeling. But that rhythm section of Ringo and Paul is so strong and vibrant on Abbey Road, that I can’t help but tune into it, particularly now that I’m in a band myself. I hear it everywhere, especially on “Here Comes the Sun” and “Polythene Pam”. Bass and drums are locked in.

And then there is Paul McCartney’s singing which is deeply heartfelt. Almost on his own, McCartney gives this album that band-ending feel in his vocals and lyrics. The first time it hits me is on “Oh! Darling”, which as I’ve mentioned before in these pages, comes across as an appeal to John Lennon:

“When you told me, you didn’t need me anymore
Well you know, I nearly broke down and cried
When you told me, you didn’t need me anymore
Oh well you know I nearly broke down and died”

The other elements of Paul’s pangs are all heard on the side 2 medley, which he conceived and pulled together (along with George Martin).  When he sings “Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight for a long time” there’s a strong sense of dread and regret about the pending breakup. Was he referring to Lennon, himself, or the entire band?  Then there’s “You Never Give Me Your Money”, where he refers to all the contractual battles the Beatles were going through with management and each other. And of course, there’s those sublime closing lyrics of “The End”: “And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love, you make”. There could be no better way to cap off a decade of Beatles music than with those lyrical lines.  Who knew Paul McCartney had it in em! (actually, it was already telling with “Hey Jude” … see Fab Foundations # 6).

Still, Paul McCartney could not help but adding some to one of his more traditional roles in the Beatles; that of lightheartedness (Ringo also played this role, to a lesser degree). His lightheartedness is expressed here with “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” (which is a big part of what drew me into the album as a kid), and the closing number “Her Majesty”. I believe that deep inside, Paul did this sort of thing to lessen the burden on the band and strip some of the seriousness off their shoulders.

Ultimately, however, McCartney’s legacy in relation to Abbey Road will be in his deeper evocations. What is it about side two of Abbey Road that brilliantly says “goodbye”?  Paul McCartney, that’s what.

Oh, and he was right about Allen Klein too.

George Harrison

On Abbey Road, George Harrison proved himself as a bonafide top notch songwriter. John Lennon once stated that the best song on the album is Harrison’s “Something”. It is something for sure. Frank Sinatra went as far as calling it the best love song of all time. With lyrics like…

“Somewhere in her smile she knows,
that I don’t need no other lover,
something in her style that shows me”

…who could argue? Harrison’s lead vocals are some of his best here, and I include his solo career in that declaration. So too his lead guitar, not only on “Something”, but the entire album.  Later in his career, George would get more of a signature sound on his guitar. But I like this catchall sound more. He’s experimenting with new ideas. One great example is the subtle loveliness you hear in the intro to “Sun King”. I also love how George’s guitar notes lead John’s closing vocals on “Come Together” (prior to each time Lennon sings “come together…. yeah”); the ebbs and flows of the notes in perfect synch with Lennon’s play-off vocals.

George’s other big musical-instrument contribution to the Abbey Road sessions was the Moog Synthesizer.  It’s used beautifully during the bridge in “Because”. It’s also used on “Here Comes the Sun” (particularly distinct in the bridge), “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”, and by John Lennon - as intense white-noise buildup during the long closing jam to “I Want You (She’s So Heavy”)…..more on that below.

A highlight on this album is the 3-way guitar exchange between Paul, George and John on “The End”. They each take lead in a triple cycle (nine leads in all), in the order Paul first, George second and John third. It’s a Beatles fan dream come true, and it never gets old listening to it. To understand they did it in one take just adds to the allure. All three of them sound great, but George is best.

My one big surprise in the bit of research I did this week for this entry was discovering that George Harrison plays bass on “Oh! Darling”! It’s virtuoso. These past few years I’ve tried off-and-on learning the song on bass and while doing so, I had always imagined Paul performing the original while I did this. The bass notes are all over the fret board, which now makes sense seeing as George is a masterful lead guitarist. Anyhow, who knew that one of my favorite Beatles songs on bass is actually George Harrison? I still can’t picture it, but I guess I’ll have to if I ever hope to get it down myself.

John Lennon

John Lennon still very much appreciated what the Beatles had during the Abbey Road sessions. From the moment Paul and George joined his band in the late 50s (Ringo came later), he knew what he was getting. His proudest effort on Abbey Road was “Come Together”, and he could not have pulled it off without their talents.  George Martin was concerned going into the Abbey Road sessions that the band would not get buy-in from John to make it a true collaborative effort.  Those fears must have been dashed pretty quickly as the album began to take form in early 1969, seeing as Lennon clearly appears to have considered himself part of an ensemble for this album (although his uncompromising nature did kick in at least once with his refusal to play on “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”, which he considered a “Granny song”.  I’ll say this though in his defense: such Lennon stances made the Beatles better).

John Lennon’s vocals are the most diverse by far on Abbey Road. From “Mean Mr. Mustard” to “Polythene Pam”, to “Come Together” to “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” to all his backing vocals, he sounds different each time. This week I picked up on the fact that Lennon’s “Sun King” repeats the identical line as the title to Harrison’s song “Here Comes the Sun” (the only difference is that Lennon tags “King” to the end).  The reason I likely never picked up on this before is that the two songs sound completely different, which is part of the magic and majesty of the entirety of Abbey Road; every single song sounds unique. Much of this is a testament to the variety in Lennon’s vocal delivery. Side note: I love how “Sun King” starts with chirping crickets, which is conveying a fade out of night and a dawning of day.

John’s “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” has really grown on me this year, to the point where it may now be my favorite song on Abbey Road. Lennon plays a rare lead guitar here, which sounds great. But what I like the most about “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” is the long jam that closes it.  The only other time I can remember the Beatles getting into a jam is on Paul McCartney’s “Helter Skelter”. Both jams are intense and eerie. When my daughter, Charlotte listened to it a few weeks back she thought it sounded very reflective of the times when the song was written… the late 60s and Vietnam. Charlotte may be on to something, even if the song is widely recognized as being about Yoko Ono.  Lennon is trying to reflect Yoko’s heavy (read: substantial) effect on him. The times were very heavy as well.  Lennon appears to capture it all here.

Although the side-2 medley has always been recognized by most critics as starting with “You Never Give Me Your Money”, I’ve always considered it to begin with “Because, which is the song before it. “Because” is brilliantly harmonized throughout by John, Paul and George ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL0tnrl2L_U ). This John Lennon tune was the last one the Beatles recorded together.  What’s really cool however, is when you think of “Because” as a bookend to “The End”. In this way, the medley fits together rather magnificently. To drive home my point, the most exquisite line in “Because” goes:

“Love is old, Love is new
Love is all, love is you”

And so, these lines, mirror wonderfully those prior-mentioned classic closing lyrical lines in McCartney’s “The End” (which also includes all 4 Beatles repeatedly harmonizing “Love You”, leading up to that prior-mentioned flawless 3-way lead guitar bridge).  Put it all together and all the myriad of medley concepts, characters and strife ends up corralled inside bookends of love. I think of it as a love package (the medley, with John beginning and Paul ending) inside a love package (Abbey Road, which includes George’s top-notch love song, “Something”) inside yet another love package (the decade of the Beatles coming to an end).

The more I listen to Abbey Road, the more my longtime natural inclination about it is confirmed, that being that this last of all Beatles albums makes a very strong and convincing closing statement: Love conquers all.

- Pete

p.s. This entry is a shout out to all those who inspired me to play music, including cousins Peter and Eric Mello; Tom, Steve and Tim Gilligan; Jim, Vernon, and Spencer Smith, and my close friend’s Pete Faenza and Phil Johnson. 

Fab Foundations # 11: “Pepper Shaker”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “She’s Leaving Home”
Album: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Release Date: May 1967

In just about every “top” list there is for best Rock albums of all time, one is sure to see Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band nestled in there somewhere (most often at or near the top of the given top list).  I have to agree with this assessment, particularly when considering the trailblazing nature of the record upon its release in 1967. One of the best critiques of its effect on baby-boomer culture that I’ve ever read was that it propelled us from a world of black and white to a world of technicolor. 

But conceptually I can’t help thinking… oh, what could have been. There’s a hint of a concept in Sgt. Pepper. But just a hint (and maybe that was enough to light the spark for the Rock world). It would be left to the Who to hit the ball out of the park two years later, with the release of Tommy.  From there the concept album would manifest itself in many Rock releases throughout the 70s; the decade that for all intents and purposes owns the artistic rights to the applied science of albums as story lines.

As I’ve thought about it this week, I’ve concluded that the Beatles were never really cut out for this notion of a concept album. They certainly goofed around with the idea, starting with Help (the movie) followed by Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and finally Magical Mystery Tour. But none of these really coalesced into a narrative. This got me thinking that maybe what concept albums need in their incubation stages is a singular brilliant songwriter, such as what Pink Floyd had with Roger Waters (Dark Side of the Moon, The Wall, Animals), and what the Kinks had with Ray Davies (Preservation Act 1 and 2, Schoolboys in Disgrace) and what the Who had with Pete Townshend (the aforementioned Tommy, Lifehouse and Quadrophenia). 

The Beatles had 3 great songwriters. Too much tug-of-war perhaps? This appears to be the case with Sgt. Pepper, where the others never really ran with Paul McCartney’s original idea of separating themselves from reality by pretending to be this Lonely Hearts-Club band (McCartney’s thinking was that this would give them artistic license to create music out of the box). This “too many cooks” theory certainly holds some merit, but there has to be more to it when you consider that none of the Beatles made the concept album work in their solo careers either. 

There are other factors to ponder too regarding the conceptual shortfalls of Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, including this major disconnect: The album’s title; the outfits of the Beatles on the cover; and a handful of tracks are a bow to the past. But Sgt. Pepper as a whole ball-of-wax was the blueprint for the time period it was produced, particularly in relation to what was happening with the burgeoning counterculture. In other words, it was not about the past, it was about the present and near future. Hippies would gravitate to Sgt. Pepper as if it were truth serum. It was the portal to Monterey, Woodstock and the Haight-Ashbury scene. And yes, I’m sure it contributed to the mind expansion of Messrs. Waters, Davies and Townshend, among many others (the Moody Blues, the Beach Boys and Jimi Hendrix for example).

Which brings me back to my “what could have been” conceptual lament in regard to Sgt. Pepper. I am after all a child of the 70s’; that supersonic concept-album decade when record covers, lyrics, and album interpretation reigned supreme. I’d like to think I know a thing or two about formulating album-oriented Rock n’ Roll narratives. That said, my thinking is that, with a tweak here, and a mind-meld there, Sgt. Pepper could have been a full-blown bonafide concept album. 

Here’s how it could have played out:

“She’s Leaving Home” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaBPY78D88g ) should have opened the album. The song is so very symbolic of what was happening in the 60’s: New lifestyles and priorities leaving old ones behind. It’s not quite Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are A-Changin”, but it’s oriented in that direction, and good enough in laying the groundwork for a narrative: The notion of a young woman running from her sheltered life – guitar in hand - to catch on with the scene. Her Name: Lucy.

Next up is “Fixing A Hole” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPBd8eHQqIw ). This is the theme song for the young guy “from the motor trade” who Lucy rendezvous’ with. He too is running away, but in his case it’s from the drudgery of his 9 to 5 working class week (he’s a few years older than Lucy).  He’s tried to conform to his parents and grandparent’s world. But it’s not working. His name: Billy Shears.

They hop a bus and make their way west to San Francisco, but the scene there is maddening (“Good Morning” > https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Good+Morning+beatles+ ) until they see a psychedelic flyer on a telephone poll at the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets which advertises a commune an hour or so north of the city.  They make their way to the commune and soon discover that it has gained a reputation for growing the best strawberries in the region (“Strawberry Fields Forever”, which should have been on the album, but was released as single beforehand > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44GB53rnI3c ).

All is right with this new life on the commune for both Lucy (“Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds” >  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naoknj1ebqI ) and Billy (“It’s Getting Better” > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGlo9LzmOME ).

The charismatic leader of the commune is a guy by the name of Sargent Pepper. Some call him the “Pied Pepper”, others just use his nickname, ‘Sarge’. Pepper makes it clear to all new arrivals that his namesake, Sargent, has medieval English origins that means “to serve” and that this is what he is there to do. This attitude permeates its way throughout the commune.

Sargent Pepper has an interesting background. He’s British but spent much of his youth in British-controlled India. This is where he says he got his spiritual and communal views on life.

Sargent Pepper takes Billy and Lucy under his wing, partly because he sees musical talent blossoming in Lucy, who plays guitar and sings while out and about the commune. Pepper, we come to understand, has grand musical ambitions. He’s played tabla drums all his life, which he packed with him for his travels from India to California. He also packed a sitar, which he is far more rudimentary with. Pepper has written a number of songs. One of them is called “Within You Without You” and he tries to perform it with Lucy. It doesn’t quite pan out at first, particularly with either one of them singing. Then Billy decides to give the vocals a whirl. Lucy picks up the sitar, and in no time has begun learning the intricate, bizarre chord changes. Suddenly, it all falls into place ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsffxGyY4ck ).

After a few weeks messing around and jamming, they spread their wings and bring on board another fledgling musician from the commune as their keyboardist. Her name is Rita, and she too has escaped work drudgery; in her case as a meter maid in Brooklyn, NY (“Lovely Rita” > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysDwR5SIR1Q ). They also bring a young bass player on board, after he flees from the circus - which is at that time making its way through the region - to join the commune. His name: Kris Kite. This Kite is one cool cat who has all sorts of high-flying ideas. He also has great audio-engineering skills, having mastered the Circus’ sound system. His knowledge defies his age, to the point where the others start calling him Mr. Kite (“Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJVWZy4QOy0).

Not soon after, the band hits the big time after releasing a hit single “All You Need is Love” (also released around the time of Sgt. Pepper > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EGczv7iiEk ), which they record themselves with the entire commune joining in on the chorus. A number of very successful albums and tours follow. Sgt. Pepper gains world renown for his songwriting, but also his altruism. The band performs numerous charity concerts. It all comes to a sudden end, however, when Pepper dies in a car crash. The band members are scattered about that day, and each one gets the news in his/her own unique way (“A Day in the Life” > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYeV7jLBXvA ).

Mr. Kite takes leadership of Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, but the spirit is lost. The band breaks up.

Flash forward a decade or so. The band reunites for a one-off 20^th anniversary show. Mr. Kite introduces them with the opening lines to “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”: “It was 20 years ago today; Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play” > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtXl8xAPAtA ). The band receives thundering applause, after which Billy Shears takes over the lead to sing “Little Help from My Friends” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0C58ttB2-Qg). The show ends with Lucy and Billy singing “When I’m Sixty Four” to each other ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCTunqv1Xt4 ).

Shucks, … they “made the grade” after all. (I had to fit in this song somewhere!)

There you go, there’s my script. Perhaps there’s a little of The Graduate is in there. Maybe a bit of Easy Rider, or even Forest Gump.  Maybe there’s a bit of the story of Fleetwood Mac in there too. Maybe a little Joni Mitchell. Maybe a little Neil Young. If only the Beatles had put a bit more thought into what they were doing, they would have predated all of this.

So, what is the underlying concept? Utopia? Yeah, why not. This was after all the spirit of the counterculture scene in the 60s. And one could argue it was the spirit of Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band as well.

In the end, perhaps the Beatles never did a full blown concept album, because, well…. they were the concept! But it’s fun to imagine what could have been.

- Pete (from Pepperell)

Fab Foundations # 10: “Visceral”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “Jealous Guy”
Album: Imagine (John Lennon solo album)
Release Date: September 1971

In the mid-70s’ I began expanding my Beatles experience beyond the band when I purchased the John Lennon album Shaved Fish, which I spotted at a flea market for a bargain-basement price. I was unaware at the time that this was not an original album, but a collection of Lennon’s early 70s singles, along with the bigger hits from his first 3 albums, and as anyone who reads this blog site on a regular basis knows, I’m not one for “Greatest Hits” albums. In hindsight, though, Shaved Fish, like the Who’s Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy was important, for the very reason that it did indeed contain those singles (such as “Give Peace a Chance”) which were not otherwise available unless you tracked the given single down (easier said than done). Anyhow, not long after purchasing, I converted the album to tape cassette so I could listen elsewhere, including in the car. 

I had this tape on my possession one summer for a family vacation with my parents and my five siblings. Virtually all of our family vacations in the 70s were of the road-trip variety, be it north into Quebec, south to Washington D.C., west to Niagara Falls, east to Bar Harbor, Maine, or anywhere in between. There was a lot of time to kill in the VW Bus and much of that would be spent listening to music. We had quite a range of tastes in music amongst the eight of us, and we all contributed to the playlist, but I have to say I may have taken the cake with that John Lennon tape in terms of pushing the envelope.

One song off the album is titled “Woman is the Nigger of the World”, a not-so-subtle lament which needs no further explanation as to its meaning. The title is repeated often enough in the song to get the point across. Another song, “Cold Turkey”, is about heroin withdrawal, which has John Lennon convincingly moaning in agony over and over as the song labors its way to a conclusion. There’s plenty of other juicy stuff on the album too. Mom and Dad, God Bless them, let me play Shaved Fish in its entirety, and not just once, but a handful of times. Loudly. That summer it was all just part of the soundtrack of our road trip, and I was made to feel comfortable listening to it.

Looking back now, as I write this blog, I think to myself: How did I get to the point of finding the music off of Shaved Fish worthy of my repeated attention, never mind to the degree that I was compelled enough to expose my family to it?  The songs off the album were revolutionary and rebellious, trippy and idealist, a longing for what could have been, and what could be. I was just your average, every day kid growing up in the 70s.  I had a great upbringing. What gives? I suppose I could equate my interest in that music to how my brother felt while tapping into the anti-authority Punk movement of the late 70s (as did I, to a lesser degree) or my son cranking rebellious Rap Music many years later in my car (I kept Mom and Dad’s tolerance in mind for many of these moments). Even so, what was going on in my head?  In all our heads? What leads to this?

Speaking for myself, it begins with that timely Shaved Fish purchase. Let me back up a bit to take it from there.


For as much as I was fascinated by the Beatles as a band while in my teens, I quickly ended up becoming equally fascinated in what they did individually after the fact, and I can give credit to that innocent flea-market act for sparking it. One big reason for my post-Beatles fascination was that I came of age in the 70s, after the band had broken up, making the ongoing lives of John, Paul, George and Ringo’s in that decade and beyond a bit more familiar and real to me than what had occurred prior (side note: I have but one vague Beatles-related memory when they were still together in the 60s; an image of a spectacled, long-haired John Lennon in a magazine – Life or Time or something like that - whom my parents helped me identify). Another big reason was that there was always speculation and hope during that decade that a Beatles reunion was in the works. In the meantime, however, there was plenty going on with each band member to keep the buzz alive and well.

The ex-Beatle who had the greatest effect on me during that 70s period was John Lennon, which is most likely the case for a majority of other fans of the band too. In fact, for me it was not even close. For one thing, Lennon always had a knack for making news in ways that the others did not. In the 70’s those newsworthy items included his ‘Bed-Ins for Peace’ (with Yoko); his clashes with the Nixon Administration that nearly got him deported; his “Lost Weekend” in Los Angeles (that lasted over a year); his “House Husband” years in seclusion; his comeback; and finally his tragic murder (which I will be addressing later this year, upon the 40^th anniversary of that sad December day when the music died).

An added boost in terms of my connecting with Lennon was that he lived in New York City, which was a tangible, accessible place to me, being a native of nearby Massachusetts. For many years I had a postcard on my refrigerator of John Lennon giving the peace sign in front of the Statue of Liberty. Not soon after putting it there, I emulated this at the very same Liberty Island location – trench coat, Lennon-style sunglasses, Irish cap, peace sign and all - and placed my photo side by side with his postcard.

Mostly however, John Lennon’s effect on me in that first post-Beatle decade (the only decade, as it would turn out, that us 70s kids would end up experiencing with all 4 band members) was through his songs, which were musically and lyrically visceral. This intuitive approach to his craft was in contrast to much of his Beatles output, which could often be either surreal (“Strawberry Fields Forever”, “A Day in the Life”) or dreamy (“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”, “Across the Universe”) or filled with word play (“Tomorrow Never Knows”, “Come Together”, “I Am the Walrus”). It is true, Lennon also wrote straight-up, crystal-clear-meaning songs while with the Beatles (“Help”, “In My Life”, “All You Need is Love”) but during his solo career, this intuitive approach to songwriting would predominate.

At the same time, those 70s songs of his packed a punch, hence the visceral descriptive. Think about it….in just about every case, Lennon’s solo songs were straight-from-the-gut and easy to understand lyrically, but also strong and vibrant musically. The titles alone pretty much told the story, even before you heard a single note. There was “Jealous Guy” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wADRRYNHhOA ), “Give Peace a Chance”, “Happy X-Mas (War is Over)”, “Mother”, “Imagine”, “Woman”, “Starting Over”, “Watching the Wheels”, “Power to the People”, “Mind Games”, “Working Class Hero”, “Gimme Some Truth”, “Crippled Inside”, “How Do You Sleep”, ”Whatever Gets You Through the Night”, “Instant Karma”, and yes, “Intuition”. The list goes on.  

In other words, what you see is what you get.  For a teenage kid, there was so much complex stuff in the world to figure out already, including lyrics of many Beatles and other musicians’ songs I loved. I’d also started going to concerts around then and the lyrics from the songs that were being sung in those shows could be difficult to understand. Hey, don’t get me wrong, it was all a great part of the process of growing up. But it was refreshing to get the ‘straight dope’ for a change, and John Lennon offered that. “Gimme Some Truth” indeed. 

This week I got to thinking, was John Lennon’s impact more important in the 60s with the Beatles, or in the 70s after the fact? It’s a tough one. In the 70s Lennon showed the next wave of rock-and-rollers how not to sell out. In fact, he went in the opposite direction, to the point where one could argue he was committing artistic suicide; taking on big protest-related topics like the war in Vietnam, greed, and the struggles of woman around the world ...to the point of backlash. He stirred the pot. This fact alone makes a strong case for his 70s output. There was nothing clandestine or plastic about it (despite his band’s name), and man-oh-man, can that ever appeal to a teenager.

Few have taken a greater leap of faith than John Lennon did in the late 60’s and early 70’s.  Lennon had it made in all walks of life but abandoned it all in search of his version of truth, which centered on his relationship with Yoko Ono.  An early sign of his self-imposed exile from mainstream society was when he returned his British MBE award to Queen Elizabeth with the note, “Your majesty, I am returning this in protest against Britain’s involvement in the Nigeria-Biafra thing, against our support of America in Vietnam, and against my single ‘Cold Turkey’ slipping down in the charts” (though leaving much behind, Lennon’s wit remained intact).  Quite a departure from the mop-top grand entrance he made into the USA in 1964. 

Although I walk a different path, I truly appreciate what John Lennon did in his short life after the Beatles.  I feel it was in his nature to do so. The man had his ups and downs, like all of us (just listen to his Imagine album to get both ends of that spectrum).  But there was no sugar coating. And there was nary a dishonest bone in his body.  Teenagers can sense that sort of thing and are willing to break from the norm if only to listen.

- Pete

Fab Foundations # 9: “Liberated”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “Wah-Wah”
Album: All Things Must Pass (George Harrison solo album)
Release Date: November 1970

As a corporate product the Beatles brand stands alone in the music department for having generated an astonishing treasure trove of collectors’ items. Back in my grade school years, one of my best friends, Pete (who remains a close friend) lived in an entertaining, welcoming household, and I would often visit him there. Pete’s only sibling, his older brother Paul, was an avid collector of all things Beatles, particularly their records. Paul had every Beatles vinyl release you could imagine, as well as all the discs from their solo-careers. There was the rare and elusive “Butcher Cover” album. There was John and Yoko’s “2 Virgins” album (the two posing naked on the cover). There was the entirety of the Beatles 45 (rpm) singles’ releases, with accompanying picture sleeves (records are not worth much without the sleeves). There were releases from Germany, Japan, the UK and other countries. There were bootlegs. All in all, I’m talking up to 100 albums and an equal number of singles, all in pristine condition (seeing as they were under lock and chain and hermetically sealed…. just a slight exaggeration there).

Every so often, Pete and I would go into his brother’s room and thumb through those albums (sometimes with Paul acting as curator). It was an awe-inspiring collection which - among other effects - gave me a far greater perspective into the immenseness of the Beatles popularity than I would have had otherwise. At some point I became impressed enough to take on the hobby myself for a spell (the only way to do that in those days was to go to collectors’ conventions, which would, from time to time, make their way thru Boston). I still have my handful of singles - with picture sleeves of course - which bring back some nice reflections on the infrequent occasion that I revisit them.

One album in Paul’s collection that stood out for me was George Harrison’s 1970 triple disc, All Things Must Pass, which was released less than a year after the Beatles disbanded; his first solo effort. I’d find myself staring at George on the cover, he, sitting on a stool in a field with a handful of gnome-like garden ornaments positioned around him.  It was hard to make out that this was George at first, which had nothing to do with camera angle or special effects, or even his rather lengthy beard (which had him fitting right in with the gnomes). It was simply that he looked different than he did in any of his Beatles-related photos and footage, even those from the late years. I mean very different (this difference was confirmed for me not long after, when I barely recognized a beardless Harrison during his only Saturday Night Live appearance in 1976). And although I had nothing in my vocabulary at the time to describe how I felt about Harrison’s appearance on that cover, today I can do it with one word…. liberated. This look fascinated me (still does, actually). George Harrison’s appearance was quite stunning, even radiant. The type of look we all strive for indirectly through inner peace.

As with Bob Dylan’s albums John Wesley Harding, Slow Train Coming, Saved and Shot of Love as well as Pete Townshend’s Who Came First (and to a slightly lesser degree, the Who’s Tommy and Townshend’s Empty Glass), George Harrison’s first solo album will forever have the deserved reputation as being a deeply spiritual piece of work (side note: Dylan and Townshend are the only other 2 famous musicians I can think of in whom I’ve ever recognized that same look of George’s, specifically during the periods when they were releasing the albums mentioned here).  I was not aware of this spiritual focus at first, but not soon after discovering the album in my friend Pete’s brothers’ collection, I watched as Paul presented All Things Must Pass to one of our parish priests for a listen. I could see then that Pete’s brother had thought highly enough of the spiritual nature of the album to have the desire to do this. That moment tuned me in quite a bit more to All Things Must Pass, which would soon make the record one of my first solo-Beatle album purchases.

One could argue that George Harrison was the biggest loser in the breaking up of the Beatles (I look forward to debating this with my cousin’s Tom and Tim, who have been fantastic at diving deeper into my blog-entry talking-points after the fact). After all, George was seriously climbing the ladder as a songwriter in the Beatles swansong years (“Old Brown Shoe”, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, “Something”, “Here Comes the Sun”) and his bandmate's musicianship and collective instinct - based on years of working together - would likely have done him wonders if they stuck it out for at least a few more albums (Harrison was only 26 years old when the band broke up).

Aside from the songs just mentioned (“Something”, etc.), George had written a significant amount of other new music for the Beatles in 1968 and 1969, but because he was always regarded as the 3^rd writer in the band, Harrison’s input was never given the same attention as John and Paul’s, and so his contributions were often relegated to one or two songs per album (by the way, the only other organically-formed band - i.e. youth constructed - that comes to mind who had 3 exceptional songwriters is R.E.M. Can anyone else think of another?). Much of Beatle George’s pent-up, unused music would end up on All Things Must Pass, being the key reason why it is a triple album.

Yes, George Harrison may have been deprived the most in terms of the timing of the Beatles breakup. And yet, in the same breath, one could also argue that Harrison gained the most from the Beatles breakup. It’s all in that liberated look I see on his face and in his demeanor on the cover of All Things Must Pass. By the late 60s, the Beatles had become a straitjacket on Harrison’s personal and professional growth, particularly his burgeoning spirituality. George was also gaining a new perspective on band dynamics by hanging out with the likes of Bob Dylan and the Band in Woodstock. He saw the freedom they had that he was lacking. Anyhow, I think both sides of that argument (whether Harrison gained or lost from the Beatles breakup) hold merit.

I have great respect for musicians who express faith in their music. At some point in this series I will focus on at least one of those faith-filled songs from All Things Must Pass for an entry all its own (as I did with Townshend and Dylan in earlier series’).  Here though, I want to take a minor detour by focusing on another song off the album, “Wah-Wah”, in order to expand on that ‘liberated’ theme. In my mind, spirituality is there in “Wah-Wah”, albeit in a more ambiguous fashion, and so I am not straying all that far off the enlightened path here. No matter how I slice it though, here is one definitive truism: “Wah-Wah” has for decades been one of my favorite Beatles-affiliated songs. This week I tried to get a better sense on why, and I think I’ve succeeded….

The term “Wah-Wah” can be translated here to “Headache” as in…. “you are giving me a headache”.  The song was written during the Beatles 1969 “Get Back” sessions, when Harrison quit the band for a short spell due to disagreements and infighting. “Wah-Wah” is specifically directed at Paul McCartney, who apparently was being heavy-handed and overbearing in his musical perfectionism, making way too many suggestions to Harrison about the latter’s guitar contributions for his songs (there has also been suggestions that “Wah-Wah” was at least partly directed at John Lennon, who at times could be a bit dismissive of Harrison’s songwriting skills). Harrison felt unappreciated. This feeling is palpable in “Wah-Wah” when he passionately sings the lines:

“Oh, you don’t see me crying,
Hey baby, you don’t hear me sighing
Oh, no, no, no, no”

However, there are other things going on in this song; deeper liberating sorts of things, which lifts “Wah-Wah” to higher grounds. For, Harrison’s liberation transformation was not only sprung through him moving on from the suffocation of the Beatles environment in their latter years. George was also walking away from much of the general social conventions expected of someone in modern Western culture (hence the spiritual meaning of the song, at least in part). This all plays out in the very next set of lines in “Wah-Wah”, which go:

“And I know how sweet life can be
If I keep myself free”

These lines are short and ‘sweet’, but without proper context, you really can’t make this kind of connection. However, listening to the entirety of All Things Must Pass, one can get a good sense for what Harrison is talking about here in these 2 lyrical lines. The man was taking a deep dive into life’s most profound questions. What does it all mean? This was heavy stuff for my younger self to take in.

Those 2 lines also shift the song-meaning of “Wah-Wah” from a negative vibe to a positive one. And as I listened this week, I also concluded that these lines put a glorious cap on the entire Beatles narrative, at least through the George Harrison lens. In other words, the lyrics are testament to the fact that the Beatles story in Harrison’s mind would not be in vain, despite his need to move on.  I liken it to a son or daughter telling his/her parents that their years of parenting paid off: “You done me right Mom and Dad (being the Beatles as a whole in this case). Now it’s time for me to take what you have taught me and run with it on my own”.

Perhaps this is why Paul McCartney could bring himself to co-perform “Wah-Wah” in The Concert for George on the one-year anniversary of Harrison’s death (which remains my second favorite concert video after the Bob Dylan 30^th Anniversary Concert Celebration). Knowing smiles and smirks were flying all over the stage, from Paul, to Eric Clapton, to Ringo, to Tom Petty, to Jeff Lynne, to George’s son Dhani (a spitting image of a young George…it must have been mind boggling to Ringo & Paul being on stage with him). Yes, being there on stage took some courage on McCartney’s part.

The song “Wah-Wah” could apply to anything we need to move on from, or signal out, or compartmentalize. It could apply to compartmentalizing irreconcilable differences with someone you know. It could apply to moving on from materialism. It could apply to moving on from bad decisions. It could apply to signaling out dastardly leadership. It could apply to signaling out fake news. The song fits many bills.

George Harrison performed “Wah-Wah” live at the Concert for Bangladesh on August 1, 1971 (I believe it is the first ever rock-benefit concert, which he organized). In the process he did a pretty darn good job recreating that studio-recording version's “Wall of Sound” on stage.  The Concert for Bangladesh version ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFUKVZn8DsI ), the original studio recording, and the live version performed in the Concert for George by Harrison’s friends and family all work equally for me. 

What George Harrison showed me as a young dude is that it’s possible to transform your life.  I’m forever grateful.

- Pete

Concluding Note: This being the 9^th Fab Foundations entry, I did ponder some the notion of having it centered on the White Album’s beyond-bizarre “Number 9”, but in the end my brain just could not go there.  In replacement was a week of listening to All Things Must Pass.  Yeah, like passing on that original idea!  I think I made the right decision.