(Personal reflections
inspired by Beatles songs)
Song: “Martha My Dear”
Album: The Beatles
Release Date: November
1968
Continuing my White Album review song by song, here I tackle side
2. If you have not done so already, I suggest reading the introduction to Fab
Foundations # 4 as a prelude to this entry ( https://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2020/01/fab-foundations-4-going-back-to-white.html ) seeing as it explains my personal introduction to the White
Album on Christmas Day as a young teenager many years ago. I refer to that enlightening
day on a handful of occasions here. The remainder of that entry (Fab
Foundations # 4) tackles songs on side 1.
The White Album is extremely eclectic but for some odd reason I
consider it the most album-oriented of all Beatles discs. That album orientation
also applies to the 4 sides, each of which has a distinct feel. For me, side 2 has gained the reputation of being the "acoustic side". Also on side 2,
animals are flying at you from all directions: Racoons, pigs, birds, dogs. Several
of these creatures even emit their unique sounds in the music. Other sides include animals too, such as
elephants, tigers, and monkeys, but side 2 takes the wildlife cake.
Anyhow, there’s plenty else to delve into on side 2 as well. Below
are some tidbits, based on thoughts that crossed my mind as I listened this
week:
White Album, Side 2 (of 4)
“Martha My Dear”
(Paul). To connect with Paul McCartney’s
melodic virtuosity, you need look no further than the opening piano sequence to
“Martha My Dear”. It’s about as catchy
of a solo as you will ever hear in song, and it is also the perfect
introduction to this predominantly acoustic side of the White Album.
How do you write such a pretty song about your dog? Neil Young’s “Old King” sounds far more
appropriate when it comes to singing about man’s best friend. But “Martha My
Dear” works wonders for me. In fact, it’s one of my all-time favorite Beatles
songs ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXawa90YU2s
) in spite of the fact that McCartney is the only Beatle who plays
any music on it (arguably George Harrison is there too on the final cut - he
was there for at least one take - but this has been difficult for Beatles
aficionados to confirm over the years).
One thing I love about the song is the slow introduction of
instruments as “Martha My Dear” progresses: First there’s the piano intro,
followed by vocals and soft strings, followed by tuba and trumpets, followed by
the first of several bursts of the French horn, followed by guitar, drums and
bass (all McCartney), followed by trumpets and clapping. The last 30 seconds or
so winds down with more strings and some funky bass. All in all, it’s a multi-instrument
baton-hand-off of positive energy.
And yet, whenever I reflect on “Martha My Dear”, my mind always
circles back to that piano intro. It reminds me of the first time I listened to
the song in my parent’s dining room on that Christmas Day way back as a young
teenager. It reminds me of lugging my milk crates full of albums to all the
places I’ve lived in my life: Franklin, North Adams, Ottawa, Woburn, Waltham,
Pepperell. It reminds me of my daughter’s favorite teddy when she was young
(“Martha”). It reminds me of the fascination that comes with discovery and the
joy that comes with knowing quality.
I only hope that dog of Paul’s appreciated it half as much as I
have.
“I’m So Tired” (John). What
better song to listen to and write about just before I call it a hard-days
night (which is what I’m about to do now on this midweek evening). As with
“Martha My Dear”, “I’m So Tired” grabbed me from the get-go. Many of John
Lennon’s songs have a certain moody edge about them that draws me in, and this
one is no exception (it’s the Rock and Roller in me). I’ve felt that way ever
since the needle hit the first notes on that new Christmas turntable of mine.
If “Martha My Dear” is unmistakably a McCartney composition (read: Upbeat),
“I’m So Tired” is unmistakably Lennon in its edginess.
I was well versed enough in my European early-explorer history
when I first heard this song 45 years ago to know that Sir Walter Raleigh was a
key figure in introducing tobacco to England. And so, Lennon’s quip in the lyrics
about Raleigh being “such a stupid git” resonated with me right away.
The line had such a creative improv feel about it, regardless of whether or not
it happened that way. Tonight, as I listen, it still sounds improvisational. This
was the thing about Lennon’s music: It often felt as if he was completely in
the moment, which had a lot to do with his quick wit (another example in the
song is when he shouts “no, no, no!” after pondering whether he should
fix a midnight drink to help put him down for the count. Yet another is the
second time he sings/shouts “I’m going insane!”).
So here we have quite a contrast between the first song on side 2
and the second. It’s a nice one-two
punch of the Lennon & McCartney styles which is what made the Beatles so
successful. Somehow, these 2 songs work
off one another despite the stylistic and mood differences. That in a nutshell
is the majesty of the White Album.
Alas, on second thought, “I’m So Tired” appears to have the
opposite effect of winding me down (which was likely the case for Lennon too).
Perhaps I should cut to the closing lullaby on side 4 as the antidote.
“Blackbird” (Paul). Of
all Beatles songs, I feel that this one connects most with what was happening
in America in the late 60s. “Blackbird” empathizes with black females who were
dealing with the racism and race riots of those turbulent times. I love the
simplicity of this song, including the foot tapping (reminders of Pete
Townshend doing something similar for the Who song “Music Must Change” … in his
case walking with a microphone close to his feet).
What side 2 of the White Album initially did for me all those
years ago was that it gave me a sense for how much artistic latitude the band
members had with their producers and especially with each other at this stage
in their common careers. As with “Martha
My Dear”, ‘Blackbird” is essentially a McCartney solo effort, with no other Beatle
personnel accompanying him in the studio. All four Beatles would ultimately sign
off on the final White Album product however, each knowing full well that the
full ensemble was not there for not just these two songs, but many other tracks
too. The fact of the matter is, how could any of them argue with such
cumulative quality.
I find it oh, so appropriate that this song has thrived with time.
Today’s younger generations appear to have latched on to it, using lyrical
lines from “Blackbird” in their graduation remarks and the like. It’s a
testament to how someone can hit a timeless nerve – often inexplicably - by
tapping into a basic human essence.
This ability to hit a timeless nerve of human essence is intrinsic
in all of us, which was the great “Blackbird” take-home message for me in my
own formative years. Perhaps that’s what the younger generations understand as
well.
“Piggies” (George). Harrison
could get pretty abrupt with his sentiments regarding the material world (see
“Taxman”), which was quite eye-opening for a teenage Beatles fan. Being the
hugely successful musician that he was at the time, I consider George Harrison courageous
in this regard (same goes for John Lennon… see my last blog entry). After all, he is leaving himself open to
accusations of hypocrisy here. I sensed this very early on listening to
“Piggies”. But the fact of the matter is, despite being monetarily wealthy,
Beatle George was always able to dodge such criticism though his actions,
because it was spiritual wealth he was after.
Several years back, I attended a Roger Waters concert which was
super-charged in its politics (and its amazing technical feats). Part of the
show delved deep into Pink Floyd’s 1977 concept album, Animals, which
tackles human failings such as greed, fear and demagoguery. The vast majority
of Animals is comprised of 3 songs: “Sheep”, “Dogs” and “Pigs”; personifying
these three negative character traits, which can occasionally throw world history
into a steep downward spiral. I thought of Harrison’s “Piggies” as I watched it
all play out at that incredible Roger Waters show.
“Piggies” is yet another song on the White Album with a very distinct
sound (in this case baroque), which includes a harpsichord. However, as with
all the other pieces to this album’s jigsaw puzzle, it magically fits. “Piggies”
is the second song in a row (after “Blackbird”) to include animal sounds (which
John Lennon zealously contributes to). This, along with the general acoustic
feel of the song has it fitting in nicely on side 2.
“Piggies” left little to my young imagination back in the mid
70’s. Pompous imagery jumped out at me
then, just as it does now (it helps that Harrison sings the song with such acerbic
wit). It’s never too difficult to conjure up something that’s always, sadly,
all too real.
“Rocky Racoon” (Paul). McCartney
gets center stage for a majority of side 2 of the White Album (5 songs in all,
compared to 2 for Lennon and one each for Harrison and Starkey). At the core of this output is “Rocky Racoon”,
which is Beatle Paul’s attempt at a Bob Dylan-style ballad (I’m thinking particularly
of the song “John Wesley Harding” which was released about a year earlier). “Rocky Racoon” checks in at only 3:33, but
feels longer, which is likely the effect of it being a song-story that does not
repeat.
“Rocky Racoon” is one of those “break you in” songs that Paul McCartney
was so good at, especially for a kid’s mind. Once hooked with a song like this,
you would be hit upon by deeper layers of song texture on Beatles albums, which
all 4 band members would contribute to. But you had to start somewhere, and
usually it was Paul who made it happen. I remember repeatedly listening to these
lyrics way back when and trying to wrap my mind around the story. In hindsight,
I don’t think there’s much to it, but it was intriguing to take in lyrics that
referred to a showdown, a drunk doctor, and Gideon’s Bible.
This song was actually one of my earliest introductions to the
Folk/Country Ballad, which has me thinking that the Beatles either introduced me
to or expanded my interest in a whole variety of musical genera on the White
Album. Along with the Folk/Country Ballad, there was also Broadway Musical
(“Martha My Dear”), Baroque (“Piggies”), Soul (“Savoy Truffle”), Avant Garde
(“Number 9”), Blues (“Yer Blues”), Proto-metal (“Helter Skelter”), Hard Rock
(“Back in the USSR”), British Music Hall (“Honey Pie”), Lullaby (“Good Night”),
Spiritual (“Long, Long, Long”), Rhumba (“I Will”), and Country Rock (“Don’t
Pass Me By”), among other styles.
Combine this genera-montage and the aforementioned layering and
you have both depth and breadth with the White Album. This is why, in the end, this
4-sided disc may end up being the most timeless of all Beatles albums.
Was this the Beatles intention all along? Did they intentionally
set out to hit us from all angles?
“Don’t Pass Me By” (Ringo). As I first read the lyrics and song credits
on the back of that perfect complimentary poster folded inside the White Album,
I remember being a bit confused when I saw the name “Starkey” associated with
this song. It soon became apparent that
this was Ringo’s real last name. I was immediately intrigued. Richard Starkey
was stepping up his game. He typically sang lead about once per album, but here
he was showing Beatles fans that he could also be a songwriter. How about
that!
The best thing about “Don’t Pass Me By” is that it fits right in
with the quality of the other tracks on side 2.
This is what is so cool about this side of the album; all nine songs are
on the same level of high quality. None stand above the rest. It was great that
Ringo Starr could get his songwriter stamp in that mix. As a result, the balance on side 2 is not
only in song quality but it also relates to the harmony in band-member
contribution as well.
Another thing that is great about “Don’t Pass Me By” is how
rhythmic, pulsating, percussive and on-beat it is. In fact, on its own this
song stands as the perfect musical statement to what Starkey brought to the
Beatles. As with every song, album, musician and band I’ve focused on in this
Music and Memory blog site, I pick up on some nice surprises when I pull it all
together and start listening intently (so I can write something of substance).
This year, one of my most pleasant surprises has been in gaining a better understanding
of the importance of Ringo’s role in the Fab Four.
There’s more to it than meets the casual ear.
“Why Don’t We Do It in the Road”. (Paul). John Lennon often gets the credit for unconventional
Beatles songs, and he certainly has a few on the White Album. But so too does
Paul McCartney, namely this one and “Wild Honey Pie” (which is on side 1, and which
I have already critiqued). How’s a 13
year old kid supposed to interpret this song? I’ll tell you how. He pictures himself
and a group of friends drawing graffiti on a roadway under the cover of
night.
Ha! Yeah, it took a few years to figure “Why Don’t We Do It in the
Road” out. Is this what Paul McCartney got out of his Maharishi experience in
India?... a song about watching two monkeys’ getting down and dirty on the
streets of Rishikesh. This reminds me of the differences in opinion between
George Harrison and Paul McCartney on why the Beatles went to Northern India in
the first place in early 1968. Paul was gearing up to write music in a remote
setting. George was there to meditate.
It takes all kinds… especially in the makeup of a grade-A band.
I spent quite a bit of time in the dining room that Christmas Day of
yore listening to my new White Album. I’m wondering if Mom tuned in as I
listened to this one.
“I Will”. (Paul). I’ve
always looked at these last two songs on side 2 as a subset within a side
within an album. At first glance it’s
difficult to justify this, as the two songs are written by two different band
members. Also, the first of the two, “I Will” is about a lover (Paul’s), where
the second, “Julia” is about a Mother (John’s).
The commonality is that these two songs are the gentlest and most
soothing on the entire album.
As I was listening to “I Will” with headphones on this week, I
made out that the bass had a vocal sound to it, as if someone were imitating
the instrument by singing the bass notes in place of the actual instrument.
Sure enough, McCartney is vocalizing the bass lines here, and doing a darn
funky job of it too. I had never picked up on this before. Classic!
The title “I Will” is such a positive proclamation, in similar
fashion to saying “I Do” on the alter. The White Album covered the gambit of
human emotions. There’s never too much or too little of any feeling you get
listening to it. This one adds a touch of love to the mix, which interestingly
is not as flouted a subject on this 30-song album as one would expect to hear on
a Beatles album.
“Julia” (John). A beautiful and heartbreaking song; John
Lennon is trying to connect to fading memories of his long-lost mother. As far
as I can discern this is Lennon’s first attempt (of many) to exorcise painful
childhood trauma. I’m pretty sure I picked up on this not long after first
listening.
Lennon was never one to try and stand out instrumentally on
Beatles tracks. With their amazing musical abilities, Paul, George, and even
Ringo could not avoid doing so on occasion, but for John it was very unusual.
Since he’s performing here without anyone else (the only time he ever did this
on a Beatles track), we get to hear Lennon’s guitar playing exclusively, which
adds a nice touch to his multi-track vocals.
By this time, I was fully immersed in the eclectic sound and feel
of the White Album. However, the fact of
the matter was that I was only on 2nd base. There was much more
ahead. And so, there will be more of my continuing “Going Back to the White
Well” reflections when I tackle side 3, likely in early summer. I can’t wait.
- Pete
Saturday, April 11, 2020
Saturday, April 4, 2020
Fab Foundations # 14: “Opening the Floodgates”
(Personal
reflections inspired by Beatles songs)
Song: “Help!”
Album: Help!
Release Date: August 1965
The Beatles 2nd movie Help!, released in 1965, was a dramatic departure from their first film, A Hard Day’s Night (see Fab Foundations # 7), which came out a year earlier. Gone are the screaming girls chasing the band all over kingdom come, replaced by a real plot and evildoers out to get Ringo! Gone are commuter trains, replaced by planes and exotic locales. Gone the black and white footage, replaced by color. The one constant is the music, which for both movies is interspersed throughout; the band taking breaks from the breakneck action to perform on the spot at any given locale. Usually when this happened, the Beatles would find themselves in the eye of a metaphorical hurricane - as if picking up their instruments would suddenly insulate them from the madness all around, if only for a spell.
I had not watched Help! until this week. Not a minute of it. I’d seen plenty of still shots; the band skiing in the Alps…. George with his Artful Dodger hat on. Beach scenes in the Bahamas. John, Paul, George and Ringo around a piano in a pile of snow. I’d also read from a variety of sources that the movie was ok, but not as spontaneous as A Hard Day’s Night (true) and that the Beatles were too stoned during the making of Help! to chalk this film up as another notch on the proverbial pole of their ongoing success story (I didn’t pick up on them being stoned all that much, although I am surely not denying it).
All in all, I enjoyed Help! and found myself chuckling quite often as I watched. One constant I found pretty darn funny was how the four of them never seem suspicious of the bad apples all around, even as the audience can see it plain as day. They are always jovial and good natured, right up to the moment when all hell breaks loose. This obliviousness is endearing in its trustfulness. My take-home summary: If you want to see the origins of what would become The Monkees TV series, or even the always-entertaining action scenes in the 60’s sitcom Batman, watch Help!
There are 2 highlight songs on the Help! soundtrack/album, and they are both John Lennon penned tunes: The title track ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Q_ZzBGPdqE ) and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”. These songs would find Lennon - and in turn the band - in transition. There’s some real honest-to-goodness depth here. Beatle John is announcing for the first time through song that he’s done with the all-is-good all-the-time ruse and that he is ready to show us his true colors. From a historical perspective, these two songs are big-time musical declarations in the context of both the world of Pop and the then fledgling counterculture (the latter of which Bob Dylan was already knee deep in spawning, albeit with a relatively niche audience).
How can I explain this another way? Ok, so imagine if you will, listening to the song “Help!” for the first time in your formative years. This was the case for me and many others who came of age in the mid-70s. Up until then I’d experienced what the Beatles music could do to stimulate the notion of falling in love, having listened primarily to their pre-Help! love songs to that point (on “The Red Album”). This was certainly a big deal in and of itself. But suddenly, here were lyrics like:
“When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody’s help in any way
But now these days are gone and I’m not so self-assured
Now I find I’ve changed my mind; I’ve opened up the doors”
Combine these with lyrics from “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” like:
“Everywhere people stare
Each and every day
I can hear them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away”
….and you’ve got a recipe for self-reflection, which is a quantum leap toward having the potential for being more a part of the solution than part of the problem.
The fact of the matter is that by most accounts, John Lennon was really crying out for help in 1965. By that time, he was already feeling trapped by the Beatles. Go figure! The band’s leader had it all, didn’t he? Fame, fortune, tapped-talent, adulation. This is where that self-analysis kicks in. Lennon was realizing that he was turning into someone he was not, and he hated it. In his song “Help!” he reveals the willingness and courage to share this sentiment with his fans.
This is the type of honesty that gave my generation a significant boost in taking the Western world back toward reality. Much had been swept under the rug in prior generations, which was somewhat understandable given what they had been through with World Wars and the Great Depression. But there’s a time for everything, and the 60s movement was a time to bring back the notion of facing stark truths about who you really are, however challenging, daunting or humbling those truths may be. Yes, it was a time for liberation.
From 1965 onward, the Beatles brought the Pop world into the liberation fold (“Pop” here meaning mainstream youth music; a catchy wing of rock and roll). Beforehand these ideals were strictly heard in the Beatnik/Folk music scene. Bob Dylan almost singlehandedly pulled those cultural Folk norms into Rock and Roll by “going electric” (starting with his big 1965 hit “Like A Rolling Stone”). With “Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”, it could be argued that John Lennon began the process of exponentially expanding youth interest in those norms. Soon enough the western world would be witness to a full-blown counterculture movement. That’s a big deal.
This transition in John Lennon’s music may be even more important than that, however. Lennon’s liberation ‘buy in’, through those two solid new songs in 1965, could even be at the root of where the USA and much of the free world stands today in terms of our two-sided polar political differences. Whatever his intentions may have been, Lennon helped spur the ‘left’ side of the spectrum to gain traction in our society (the counterculture was overwhelmingly a left-leaning movement). Beforehand, left-ideals of liberation were closer to a fringe element of society than a viable political choice, most tangible in the aforementioned folk scene. Afterwards, the floodgates would open up. Kids were tuning in. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Pete Townshend, Jerry Garcia, Joni Mitchell, and many other musicians would all find a platform they could build on.
Later we would see it play out in film as well, with movies like The Graduate (if there is ever a scene that spookily showcases a conservative’s expectations of a young lad trying to find his way, it’s that “Plastics!” poolside advice given by Mr. McGuire to young Benjamin, which accomplishes this with one word). One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is another one. So too, Easy Rider, among many others (I’m not much of a film buff but I’m sure others reading this could tease more movies from that period). These were movies where young people were trying to be themselves in the face of strong cultural forces of conformity.
Real-life downer events, like Vietnam and the 3 big assassinations in the 60s (JFK, RFK and MLK), did not dampen this counterculture movement. On the contrary, they added fuel to the firestorm (by the way, Bob Dylan’s new release “Murder Most Foul” is an uncanny encapsulation of all this, up to and including our current COVID crisis).
I’m of the belief that the pendulum has swung so much in the intervening 55 years, that it’s the left that is of the majority today. Because of this, the right has to be louder and more power-hungry than ever to maintain the status quo (more recently you can add fake news and propaganda to the list).
“Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” are in the upper echelon of all Beatles songs. The latter was a tune inspired by Bob Dylan’s songwriting (John Lennon’s own words). It captures the cultural shifts of those times in 2 short minutes. When I first listened all those years ago, I did not do so as intently as I should have and so I’d assumed for the longest time that the title is a self-declaration. But that’s not what’s happening. The title is in reference to others poking fun and ridiculing the song’s protagonist; others uttering those words in the title. With this mental correction of mine, the song’s meaning would finally fit right in with the changing winds of those times; the transition from smothering your true emotions to setting them free.
For the longest time, I’d thought that the Beatles ‘enlightenment’ transition started with their album Rubber Soul, followed by Revolver. But I had never really based that conclusion on the lyrics of songs on those albums. My thinking was based more on the evolution of their sound. Now, having listened closely to “Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” I can see that the transition really started on the album before Rubber Soul…. which again, is Help!. At that stage (1965), it may have only been John Lennon though. If so, the other Beatles would be along for the ride soon enough. With this in mind, I will have to listen to those 2 follow-up albums with a more finely-tuned ear now.
I’ve got some homework to do.
- Pete
Song: “Help!”
Album: Help!
Release Date: August 1965
The Beatles 2nd movie Help!, released in 1965, was a dramatic departure from their first film, A Hard Day’s Night (see Fab Foundations # 7), which came out a year earlier. Gone are the screaming girls chasing the band all over kingdom come, replaced by a real plot and evildoers out to get Ringo! Gone are commuter trains, replaced by planes and exotic locales. Gone the black and white footage, replaced by color. The one constant is the music, which for both movies is interspersed throughout; the band taking breaks from the breakneck action to perform on the spot at any given locale. Usually when this happened, the Beatles would find themselves in the eye of a metaphorical hurricane - as if picking up their instruments would suddenly insulate them from the madness all around, if only for a spell.
I had not watched Help! until this week. Not a minute of it. I’d seen plenty of still shots; the band skiing in the Alps…. George with his Artful Dodger hat on. Beach scenes in the Bahamas. John, Paul, George and Ringo around a piano in a pile of snow. I’d also read from a variety of sources that the movie was ok, but not as spontaneous as A Hard Day’s Night (true) and that the Beatles were too stoned during the making of Help! to chalk this film up as another notch on the proverbial pole of their ongoing success story (I didn’t pick up on them being stoned all that much, although I am surely not denying it).
All in all, I enjoyed Help! and found myself chuckling quite often as I watched. One constant I found pretty darn funny was how the four of them never seem suspicious of the bad apples all around, even as the audience can see it plain as day. They are always jovial and good natured, right up to the moment when all hell breaks loose. This obliviousness is endearing in its trustfulness. My take-home summary: If you want to see the origins of what would become The Monkees TV series, or even the always-entertaining action scenes in the 60’s sitcom Batman, watch Help!
There are 2 highlight songs on the Help! soundtrack/album, and they are both John Lennon penned tunes: The title track ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Q_ZzBGPdqE ) and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”. These songs would find Lennon - and in turn the band - in transition. There’s some real honest-to-goodness depth here. Beatle John is announcing for the first time through song that he’s done with the all-is-good all-the-time ruse and that he is ready to show us his true colors. From a historical perspective, these two songs are big-time musical declarations in the context of both the world of Pop and the then fledgling counterculture (the latter of which Bob Dylan was already knee deep in spawning, albeit with a relatively niche audience).
How can I explain this another way? Ok, so imagine if you will, listening to the song “Help!” for the first time in your formative years. This was the case for me and many others who came of age in the mid-70s. Up until then I’d experienced what the Beatles music could do to stimulate the notion of falling in love, having listened primarily to their pre-Help! love songs to that point (on “The Red Album”). This was certainly a big deal in and of itself. But suddenly, here were lyrics like:
“When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody’s help in any way
But now these days are gone and I’m not so self-assured
Now I find I’ve changed my mind; I’ve opened up the doors”
Combine these with lyrics from “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” like:
“Everywhere people stare
Each and every day
I can hear them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey, you’ve got to hide your love away”
….and you’ve got a recipe for self-reflection, which is a quantum leap toward having the potential for being more a part of the solution than part of the problem.
The fact of the matter is that by most accounts, John Lennon was really crying out for help in 1965. By that time, he was already feeling trapped by the Beatles. Go figure! The band’s leader had it all, didn’t he? Fame, fortune, tapped-talent, adulation. This is where that self-analysis kicks in. Lennon was realizing that he was turning into someone he was not, and he hated it. In his song “Help!” he reveals the willingness and courage to share this sentiment with his fans.
This is the type of honesty that gave my generation a significant boost in taking the Western world back toward reality. Much had been swept under the rug in prior generations, which was somewhat understandable given what they had been through with World Wars and the Great Depression. But there’s a time for everything, and the 60s movement was a time to bring back the notion of facing stark truths about who you really are, however challenging, daunting or humbling those truths may be. Yes, it was a time for liberation.
From 1965 onward, the Beatles brought the Pop world into the liberation fold (“Pop” here meaning mainstream youth music; a catchy wing of rock and roll). Beforehand these ideals were strictly heard in the Beatnik/Folk music scene. Bob Dylan almost singlehandedly pulled those cultural Folk norms into Rock and Roll by “going electric” (starting with his big 1965 hit “Like A Rolling Stone”). With “Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”, it could be argued that John Lennon began the process of exponentially expanding youth interest in those norms. Soon enough the western world would be witness to a full-blown counterculture movement. That’s a big deal.
This transition in John Lennon’s music may be even more important than that, however. Lennon’s liberation ‘buy in’, through those two solid new songs in 1965, could even be at the root of where the USA and much of the free world stands today in terms of our two-sided polar political differences. Whatever his intentions may have been, Lennon helped spur the ‘left’ side of the spectrum to gain traction in our society (the counterculture was overwhelmingly a left-leaning movement). Beforehand, left-ideals of liberation were closer to a fringe element of society than a viable political choice, most tangible in the aforementioned folk scene. Afterwards, the floodgates would open up. Kids were tuning in. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Pete Townshend, Jerry Garcia, Joni Mitchell, and many other musicians would all find a platform they could build on.
Later we would see it play out in film as well, with movies like The Graduate (if there is ever a scene that spookily showcases a conservative’s expectations of a young lad trying to find his way, it’s that “Plastics!” poolside advice given by Mr. McGuire to young Benjamin, which accomplishes this with one word). One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is another one. So too, Easy Rider, among many others (I’m not much of a film buff but I’m sure others reading this could tease more movies from that period). These were movies where young people were trying to be themselves in the face of strong cultural forces of conformity.
Real-life downer events, like Vietnam and the 3 big assassinations in the 60s (JFK, RFK and MLK), did not dampen this counterculture movement. On the contrary, they added fuel to the firestorm (by the way, Bob Dylan’s new release “Murder Most Foul” is an uncanny encapsulation of all this, up to and including our current COVID crisis).
I’m of the belief that the pendulum has swung so much in the intervening 55 years, that it’s the left that is of the majority today. Because of this, the right has to be louder and more power-hungry than ever to maintain the status quo (more recently you can add fake news and propaganda to the list).
“Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” are in the upper echelon of all Beatles songs. The latter was a tune inspired by Bob Dylan’s songwriting (John Lennon’s own words). It captures the cultural shifts of those times in 2 short minutes. When I first listened all those years ago, I did not do so as intently as I should have and so I’d assumed for the longest time that the title is a self-declaration. But that’s not what’s happening. The title is in reference to others poking fun and ridiculing the song’s protagonist; others uttering those words in the title. With this mental correction of mine, the song’s meaning would finally fit right in with the changing winds of those times; the transition from smothering your true emotions to setting them free.
For the longest time, I’d thought that the Beatles ‘enlightenment’ transition started with their album Rubber Soul, followed by Revolver. But I had never really based that conclusion on the lyrics of songs on those albums. My thinking was based more on the evolution of their sound. Now, having listened closely to “Help!” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” I can see that the transition really started on the album before Rubber Soul…. which again, is Help!. At that stage (1965), it may have only been John Lennon though. If so, the other Beatles would be along for the ride soon enough. With this in mind, I will have to listen to those 2 follow-up albums with a more finely-tuned ear now.
I’ve got some homework to do.
- Pete
Saturday, March 28, 2020
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:
“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.
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”.
“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.
Saturday, March 21, 2020
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.
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.
Saturday, March 14, 2020
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 20th 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)
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 20th 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)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)