MICHAEL PENN

FREE FOR ALL

Quite often, in the midst of the feeding frenzies that accompany trends in music, a record will quietly appear that has little to do with the current flavor of the month. Without the haircut, ridiculous uniform or whatever other element that is au courant with the great unwashed masses, there is little hope of said release attracting much revenue, let alone attention. In the early 90s, with grunge all the rage, one such disc hit stores to the sound of one hand clapping.

Far too many of these stories are prevalent in the music business, lined up like empties in a dive bar at closing time. This one concerns the criminally underrated Michael Penn, brother of Sean, husband of Aimie Mann (also an excellent song writer) who is generally noted for his “hit” (“No Myth”) from his debut solo album, March.

His second full length effort, Free for All, is quite worthy of your time, should you be fortunate enough to find a copy. This is not to say that the contents will change your life, though you will be pleasantly surprised if you favor slightly dark, melodic pop.

1992 was not a banner year for those who mined this genre.

There were more than a few artists at that time (Neil Finn, Karl Wallinger, Lenny Kravitz, Matthew Sweet) who were taking a page from the "Golden Book of Mid-Sixties Song Structure" . Personally, I believe that 1966 was a high watermark in terms of creativity and saw the construction of a template that has been adopted by countless performers ever since. Dylan’s Blonde On Blonde, The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, The Beatles Revolver, The Stones Aftermath, The Byrds Fifth Dimension…the list of gems from that fabled year is staggering. All would figure prominently in shaping the listening tastes of Michael Penn.

While he does wear some of the stylistic devices of his influences on his sleeve, the material has a twinkle in its eye and a cutting wit behind it that often belies the straightforward nature of the tunes. Grey clouds hover over this set right from the opener ("Long Way Down") which is a model of economy in arrangement, with a hint of bile in the lyric.

Now I would suppose that I'm not the only one and one never knows... but I got a feeling she's been sleeping with the whole wide world



His musical partner in crime, keyboardist Patrick Warren, fleshes out the soundscape by employing a Chamberlin (named for its inventor Harry Chamberlin) to provide the ethereal coloring that adds much to the retro feel of this disc. First unveiled in 1946, it is a musical instrument that was also able to play pre-recorded magnetic tapes and was the precursor to the Mellotron, which is functionally the same thing.



Here's an interesting interview with Chamberlin himself, should you have a moment to spare.

http://egrefin.free.fr/images/Chamberlin/HCInterview.pdf

All things considered, Free For All showcases a writer who can turn a very important trick: Sounding upbeat when the subject matter is often fairly heavy and serious. Highlights are "Free Time", "Seen the Doctor", "By the Book" and the brilliant closer, "Now We're Even". Tastefully executed, it really doesn't have a bad track out of the ten. Your reward in all of this, aside from sturdy melodies, will be the multi-layered wordplay, at which he excels.

I loved a girl once beyond compare, She saw inside me and gave me air, She was assisting my surgery my heart was opened as she put a mask on me, I'm breathing but it's become a chore, now that you've seen the doctor don't call me anymore

Repeated listening will reveal the charms of this record, as it won't immediately grab you by the lapels and demand that you sit still for its duration. Out of step with contemporary tastes, it's a great pity that this one simply got lost in the shuffle when it was brand new.

WHY DON'T WE DO IT IN THE ABBEY ROAD?

Faced with the prospect of trying to wring a marketable product out of the Get Back tapes, the group members chose to sit on the material. Word has it that the band was under the assumption that all of these tracks were purely for the movie/TV soundtrack. Therefore, they had no intention of putting it out as an LP until the film was edited and ready for release.

Two days after these film/recording sessions wrapped, Allen Klein was brought in as manager and the long, litigious mess that would hover over their monetary/business affairs for decades began to unfold.

Meanwhile, decisions about what course would be taken next were looming. Meetings were held and the general consensus was bittersweet. They would regroup to make one last great album as their Get Back episode yielded less than spectacular results. Lennon later candidly referred to it as, “the shittiest load of badly recorded shit ever, with a lousy feeling to it.”

Tell us how you really feel, Johnny.

Paul again was the catalyst for getting the project in motion. George Martin thought that he would not be involved in another Beatle session again, as the January recording period was nightmarish. When he took the call from McCartney, he was skeptical about the promise that everyone had agreed to make an album “like they used to”, free of the arguments and dissention that had marred the last two endeavors. The difference with Abbey Road was a commitment to make something that would maintain the magnificent standard they had set with their stellar discography to date and allow the group to end their time together on a high note.

Production values were at their highest for this LP as the studio it was named for had just installed a brand new 16 track desk which provided greater freedom to add layers without losing clarity in the final mix. Geoff Emerick returned to the team, joined by a young tape op named Alan Parsons who would be a guiding hand behind many successful recordings, including Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and his own “Project” (The Turn of a Friendly Card album is one of his best). One element that really jumps out when you listen to Abbey Road is the bass-heavy mix. In the early years, this was one feature that their records were sadly deprived of and the bottom end frequencies here more than compensate for that. (Ringo’s bass drum is very present in the mix.) Critics have often pointed to the fact that things sound almost too polished, but I disagree. My belief is that they had learned a valuable lesson in flogging themselves endlessly to get perfect live takes back in January. Namely, that their forte had always lain in their ability to take good material and perfect it in the studio at their own pace. This became a necessity as their ideas grew more complex with each subsequent disc. They were an excellent live band when they were switched on, though song craft in studio played a much larger role following their departure from the stage in 1966.

Cordial would best describe the studio atmosphere during this period, though guitars were still banged down in anger from time to time and arguments erupted. It was nothing compared to the past year, though and this made for some extremely rewarding end product. The suite of songs on side two alone is a masterful blend of odds and ends that emphasizes the whole over the sum of its parts. It also lined George Martin and McCartney up against Lennon in terms of what each side wanted to hear. The “pop symphony” or “long medley” as it was called was openly criticized by Lennon, who reportedly said that he was fine with listening to the “Something”/”Come Together” single and didn’t care for the rest of Abbey Road. He even stated at one point that he wanted McCartney’s songs grouped on one side and his own on the other.

Fortunately, democracy won the day.



Shoot me

Lennon’s first utterance on the rough and ready opener, “Come Together”, is obscured by tape echo, hand claps and the kick drum. It’s a bit spooky and somewhat prescient in light of the tragic circumstances that prematurely ended his life. Originally conceived as a campaign song for Timothy Leary who was seriously (!) considering entering the race to become Governor of California, Lennon revised the lyric and came up with one of his best late period pieces. He also screwed himself by incorporating (and altering) a line from Chuck Berry’s ode to fast cars (“You Can’t Catch Me”) to start the song (“Here come old flat top, she come groovin’ up slowly”). Morris Levy, who owned the copyright, would later engage Lennon in court, with the settlement triggering another legal battle, from which Lennon would win damages as a result.

Great feel, with impeccable playing from everyone involved is key to the energy generated here, while the wordplay is genuinely inspired.

Snaky, gliding bass work and smooth tom rolls broken only by quick high hat flourishes introduce the piece and the Beatles add yet another distinctive album opener to their already impressive canon. Within thirty seconds, without even a hint of the opening verse, “Come Together” announces its arrival with authority. Their prodigious talent as arrangers is too often overlooked. Close your eyes and listen to the homogeneity of contemporary radio and you will barely be able to tell one band/song from another. This was never an issue when it came to the music produced by Lennon/McCartney/Harrison as they created so many varied and memorable intros. Rarely would they fail to surprise or dazzle when crafting parts for each song.

George Harrison’s two spotlighted contributions to the LP rank as his absolute best Beatle compositions. Long time associate Derek Taylor had a running joke with Harrison whenever either of them had an idea. Invariably, they would always say, “This could be the Big One!”

“Something” was indeed just that.

Conceived while the White Album was in production, it fulfilled every bit of the promise that Chris Thomas saw in it when George first played it to him and was a huge hit when it was pulled as the A-side to the only single released from Abbey Road. John named it as his favorite track on the record, while Frank Sinatra reportedly thought that it was the greatest love song of the past fifty years and added it to his live repertoire. Harrison was not amused by the fact that he perpetually introduced it in concert as a Lennon/McCartney number.

Nudging into McCartney’s territory in terms of melody, “Something” benefits from excellent foundation playing, especially the exquisitely tasteful bass work. Harrison redid his guitar solo live as the strings were being added. It is an incredible effort on all counts and truly represents the full flowering of Harrison's songwriting ability. As the last note fades, one gets the feeling that this could be their best disc and with your appetite whetted by the one-two punch of the opening selections, you certainly wouldn’t be faulted for believing just that.

Then “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” kicks in and Abbey Road veers toward “Subpar Avenue” with the clank of an anvil. This one should have been elbowed from the disc.

John: "The Beatles could have gone on appealing to a wide audience as long as we taped nice little folk songs like "Maxwell's Siver Hammer" for the grannies to dig."

George: "Paul would make us do these really fruity songs. I mean, my God, 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' was so fruity..."

“Oh Darling" is far superior, featuring a shredding McCartney vocal that he achieved by coming in to the studio early every day for a week to scream until it was honed to perfection. Essentially an update of fifties doo-wop with great harmonies, it still doesn't amount to much more than the fact that McCartney had probably been listening to Zappa's Cruising With Reuben and the Jets LP. Paul's take on the genre isn't very substantial, though it is flawlessly executed and contains a very cutting, distorted rhythm guitar part. Ringo's "Octopuses Garden" is an inoffensive tune, though it again weighs down the record with more fluff. Harrison generously stepped back, uncredited, as he obviously did much to shape the song and give it the country-ish solos that make it seem more interesting than it actually is.

Just as the whole operation seems destined for mediocrity, the ominous guitar figure that heralds "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" enters and makes you forget about the last three tunes. Suggestive of Mel Torme's "Comin' Home Baby", the lyric is a minimalist, primal declaration of lust that is torn from Lennon's gut. That great big "fuck off" riff is hammered home after basic blues changes, with excellent Hammond insanity provided by Billy Preston, dive bombing bass runs and inventive drumming from Mr. Starkey. John and George piled on the guitars while Lennon employed Harrison's newly acquired Moog synth to create the white noise that builds toward the end, slowly covering the instruments as the guitar part cycles over and over, hypnotically, until it ends abruptly. Lennon sat with Alan Parsons, listening to the finished product and instructed him to cut the tape at that point, using silence to jar the potential listener with an unexpected full stop. It is by far the heaviest cut and the second longest Beatle track, beaten only by "Revolution 9".

Side two of Abbey Road is truly what makes the record, with Paul and George Martin taking a number of fragments, slotting them in with fully formed creations and threading them together in a suite that comprises one of their finest song cycles. Often referred to as the “Long Medley” or the “Big One”, none of the tunes are related to one another, though like Sgt. Pepper it is clever sequencing and cross fading work that gives the impression of seamlessness. This remains quite brilliant forty years on and lifts the tension created by the weaker tunes on the flip.

Before delving into this excellent “back nine” of the disc, it’s important to note that much of this material dated back to the previous year as well as the Get Back sessions. No less than twelve of the seventeen tracks on Abbey Road were worked on during filming in January of that year. Lennon’s only new offerings were “Come Together”, “Because” and “Sun King”. Paul chipped in “You Never Give Me Your Money” and was the driving force behind “Carry That Weight” and how the pop symphony that comprised the second side took shape. This is not to say that there was a creative trough, but rather that the principal songwriters weren’t prepared to submit anything more than they absolutely had to for the sake of a band that was on its last legs. It is quite likely that they were hoarding newly penned songs with an eye toward placing them in the context of future solo work.

Who knows?

The second “Harrisong” of the set starts with a delicate, tricky acoustic riff that provides yet another signature side opener. There is a deft swoop into the first verse that suggests the arrival of that familiar solar orb in the morning sky. “Here Comes the Sun” was written in Eric Clapton’s garden during a morning where Harrison was playing truant, as he had grown weary of attending the interminable Apple board meetings that were the cause of consternation for all group members and those in the inner circle. Quite a pretty melody it is, as well. George also deploys the Moog synth to provide atmospheric coloring, as he did on several other Abbey Road selections. It’s never overdone, nor is it a cornerstone of all the arrangements. Certain artists tend to go overboard when discovering new sounds or exotic instruments, though the Beatles team generally chose to go the tasteful route with their experiments.

This is a “Threetles” performance as Lennon was recovering from a recent car accident. Ringo’s playing is inventive and he instinctively manages the subtle variances in timing with great precision. Look up ‘feel player’ in your music dictionary and Mr. Starkey would easily be in the top five. For all of the friction that had occurred between Paul and George, the former generally took great care to craft excellent parts which enhanced the latter’s work. I would tend to agree with Lennon’s estimation when he spoke about George’s position as the invisible man, taking notes and absorbing all that he could about the writing process from his senior band mates.

Lennon is uncharacteristically mute on this record, composition-wise. “Beacause” is one of his last (for a while) to feature word games and fanciful imagery within the body of the lyric. Yoko’s influence on his art would loom quite large. Her reasoning that all creativity should be an expression and a deep exploration of the artist’s personal feelings would color his writing for some time. Bottom line: If it wasn’t about you, it didn’t count. This approach would be taken to great lengths on his first proper solo LP, which comes close to musical exorcism at times. Here, John runs some very clever puns together as Paul and George join him to triple track some beautiful three part harmonies over a foundation of harpsichord, bass and Moog.

You never give me your money, you only give me your funny paper.

Kicking off with a minor key, solo piano intro, McCartney’s subdued vocal is tinged with an uncharacteristic sadness. This multi-part highlight starts off sounding like he’s alluding to the fragmented affairs of the group and has surrendered any hopes of things returning to the way they were. Talk of negotiations is certainly reflective of what was becoming routine for the four, who were now sitting in boardrooms, often with lawyers present. When legal wrangling started in earnest, there was one particular occasion when McCartney sent his solicitor along to a meeting and didn’t attend himself. The others asked the startled barrister why he didn’t bring his bass.

Moving swiftly into a fast boogie theme and then shifting gears into what would be very memorable outro complete with a creepy, harmonized “1,2,3,4,5,6,7 all good children go to heaven” that cross fades into “Sun King”, they pack much invention into the guitar parts and allow for a nice solo in the bargain. Listen right here for what they edited out at the end of the track, including some extended Claptonesque lead playing courtesy of Mr. H.

Sunrise is again evoked thanks to a little bag of tape loops that Paul had made and brought in to assist with the transition into an understated Lennon tune that began life as a jam inspired by the Fleetwood Mac song "Albatross". This is the Peter Green incarnation of the band, several years away from pop superstardom and still very much rooted in the blues, as all three were alumni of John Mayall's Bluesbreakers. Then again, who didn't play in that band. John's "Sun King" is highlighted by harmonized gibberish lyrics and a rotating riff that abruptly ends with a drum pickup and we are suddenly treated to two quick vignettes, welded together as they are merely song fragments that Lennon demoed back in '68 and weren't taken much further lyrically.

"Mean Mr. Mustard" and "Polythene Pam" fly by, with the latter sung in a very thick Liverpudlian Scouse accent and was apparently inspired by an evening that John spent with poet Royston Ellis and his girlfriend, Stephanie. The three wore bags made of "polythene", a common British contraction of polyethylene, and slept in the same bed out of curiosity about kinky sex.

Lennon dismissed both as, "a bit of crap that I wrote in India."

"She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" really changed from the arrangement worked out in January. It was given a quicker tempo and George provides a running commentary of guitar coloring, almost countryish in flavor, in response to each line of the verse. Paul wrote this about an incident where one of the so-called "Apple Scruffs" (female fans that hung around constantly waiting for members of the group) did climb through the bathroom window of his home and stole a picture of his father Jim. There are several different takes of this one and the version chosen for Anthology 3 is scarily close to the structure of "Free As A Bird".

A 17th century poem by Thomas Dekker was adapted by McCartney to form the bulk of the lyric to "Golden Slumbers". He came up with the tune, though. What is interesting is this clip of them listening to take one, roughly 25 years after the fact. No one seems to have a handle on who played bass on this pass through.

The segue into "Carry That Weight" has everyone hollering into the mic, with a breakdown that features an brief orchestral reprise of a line from "You Never Give Me Your Money" a full stop and we're back into "carrying that weight" for another few bars until the gears shift to the familiar C to A major arpeggio that faded into "Sun King" earlier on. The homestretch of Abbey Road gives all four the chance to solo. Ringo goes first, with an insistent bass drum thump over which he executes a few tom rolls. Never a champion of the "drum solo" he keeps his bit short and sweet and the group blasts into a rock motif over which the words "Love you" are chanted in unison, going up the scale as Paul, George and John (in that order) each take two bar solos that cycle until everything comes to a dead stop, save for a lone, insistent piano.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make

With that, came "The End" of an incredible recording career.

Not so fast.

Roughly 20 seconds after the last note fades and just as the needle was poised to slide into the run out groove, a cymbal crash comes out of nowhere. This is followed by a quick acoustic snippet by McCartney which mirrors the surprise ending on side one by having the last guitar chord lopped off, ending mid strum. "Her Majesty"'s opening was the final, crashing chord of "Mean Mr. Mustard", while that last note remained buried in the mix of "Polythene Pam" as it was originally slotted between those two tunes in the medley. It was a happy accident, as engineer John Kurlander was told to edit the song out of the mix. Knowing that he was not to discard anything that they recorded, he spliced it onto the end of the master tape. Everyone got an acetate copy of this, liked what they heard and it remained in place when the album was pressed.

AND IN THE END...

This was a very slick record, made very much with the aim of doing something better than what came out of Get Back/Let It Be. It was greeted with mixed reviews at the time of issue. Side two justifies its existence, though it loses points for some of the crap on side one. Imagine if you will, a full group recording of "Come and Get It" in place of "Maxwell's Getting Hammered" and "All Things Must Pass" nudging out "Octopuses Garden".

Then it would have been their finest disc.

Abbey Road sold more copies in the US than any of its predecessors (roughly 5 million right out of the gate back in ‘69) and it seemed that the group could do no wrong. No details surrounding the band’s continued existence (or lack thereof) were made public, so listeners assumed that it would be business as usual in 1970. Some saw Lennon and Harrison’s moves (albeit separately) back to live performance as a hint that the quartet might be gearing up to tour again. Advancements in technology saw sound systems and stage gear grow larger, giving artists the ability to project their sets to massive audiences.

All of this speculation would come to nothing though, as the greatest songwriting partnership of the sixties was finished. Flaming out amongst personal, creative and business differences, the four men who had instigated a revolution in sound and culture would never regroup to make new music.

The last studio session with everyone present took place on August 20th, 1969.

Their legacy was further tarnished by a slew of legal issues that dragged on for years and put more than a few lawyer’s kids through university. Lennon’s shocking murder in 1980 stunned a generation, cruelly cutting short the life of a great talent and robbing his family of a husband and father. The possibility of a group reunion passed with him, giving poignancy to the fact that there are no happy endings when you tell the rest of the story.

Settlement of long standing litigation in the late eighties brought some form of closure to the tangled monetary and business situation of the surviving group members. This opened the door to complete The Beatles Anthology project, giving Paul, George and Ringo a chance to retrace their time in the biggest group on the planet. Entertaining it is, candid it is not (with a few exceptions). Serving as a chronological roadmap that tracks their progression from birth right through to the break up of the band, the documentary has much to commend it and is packed with amazing performance and interview footage.

Ultimately, when we pass, we have no control over the guardianship of our history. For the average person, family members pass on the stories and photographs, though most of us are forgotten with the passage of time after we've left the 3-D realm.

The ability to tell your story properly depends on how well you have documented it.

The Beatles story is a larger than life fairy tale that has grown to epic proportions. Two members are now gone, leaving McCartney and Starr as primary caretakers. Every subsequent generation that discovers their music, as I did so many years ago, sees and hears the genius behind it.

For myself, taking the time to write about their recorded output has been a lot of fun. Striving to provide a more objective overview of their work, I really wanted to avoid the myths and focus on both their strengths and weaknesses as writers. Now, with the re-mastering and re-release of their entire catalogue, they are once again the top selling artists on the planet at the time of this writing.

Not bad for an act that disbanded 40 years ago.

GET BACK? LET IT END

GET BACK

Following the tension filled months that produced the White Album, the usual enthusiasm for group related business all but disappeared. Apple Corporation, originally conceived by Brian Epstein as a structure to help shelter Beatle revenue from Britain’s excessive 96 percent tax on top earners had been expanded to encompass a record label (with EMI still handling distribution), film division and an extremely wasteful electronics component headed by self-proclaimed inventor, Alexis Madras aka “Magic Alex”.

Only the record label saw any profit, while the rest of the operation squandered money at an alarming rate. What John and Paul had initially touted as a form of Western Communism ended up as a vehicle for every type of lunatic idea that you could possibly imagine. According to Lennon, those in the inner sanctum were, “living off of them, eating and drinking like it was Rome."

Utopia was nowhere in sight.

Amidst all of this, McCartney thought that he would make a last ditch effort at rallying the band around a new project to kick off 1969. The plan seemed simple enough. Rehearse and record new songs, then take the stage to perform the material live in concert at London ’s Roundhouse theatre and broadcast the result.

This was not to be.

Returning to the two guitars/bass and drums format and performing tracks live was one thing. Allowing a film crew to document the entire episode was a miscalculation. Even in the best of circumstances, arguments will ensue amongst groups involved in a creative endeavor. Had they considered the matter more closely, they could have compromised and just did a concert movie when they were ready to go.

Hindsight is that special place from which the view is always crystal clear

Still battle weary from the previous year, they trooped into Twickenham Film Studios on January 2, 1969. Hours of footage reveal a group of people whose relations are in shambles. There are some genuinely spontaneous moments involving jams on old rock and R & B standards and the usual silliness that people who have been close for a long time are wont to indulge in. The banter seems quite forced though, no doubt mustered for the benefit of the camera. Harrison is sullen throughout, quite disinterested in anything on the agenda. Lennon seems glassy eyed and semi-stoned, with his soon-to-be wife ever present. Ringo sits patiently while the discussions ramble on around him, weary but hitting his mark when the music starts. Paul plays the role of musical director, cheerleader and seems to be the lone interested party in the whole undertaking. His bossiness ignited George’s temper early on, though it was a violent argument with Lennon, during which punches were thrown, that caused Harrison to pack up his guitar and quit the scene for a few days.

What began as a promising idea to ease the band back into live performance, quickly dissolved into bitter acrimony.

Despite the tension, there was still excellent material on the table. It’s a pity that they weren’t treating the work with the same degree of care as they had previously. Paul had two outstanding contributions in “Let It Be” and “The Long and Winding Road” that were seriously compromised by the “play it live and capture the take” philosophy. His move to piano for these performances meant that bass duties fell into John’s lap and his playing was sloppy and careless, at best. Further to this, he openly disliked these selections, mocking the quasi religious style of "Let It Be". Lennon came up with some bizarre parody lyrics (squeaking turds of whiskey over me) and at one point was noisily barking "Boof! Boof! Boof!" instead of the harmony part that he should have been singing.

They still managed to record a lot of good music.

“Get Back” went through several changes in arrangement and lyrical content before it was deemed finished. Inspired by busking Canned Heat’s “Going Up the Country” and the vocal mannerisms used in that tune, Paul turns in one of their late period gems, featuring great, nimble fingered electric piano solos from Billy Preston. Ringo drives the band with a snappy, snare driven gallop, while both Harrison and McCartney employ very economic lines to support the rhythm. Lennon takes up the lead and creates very tasteful coloring along with his signature solo.

Before settling on the brief sketch involving Jo Jo and Sweet Loretta, “Get Back” had “joke” lyrics that amounted to a parody of the anti-immigration rants of British politician Enoch Powell. Bootleg releases pegged the early takes of the song with the politically incorrect title of “No Pakistanis”. Another version was sung entirely in Reeperbahn German, while the most entertaining of these is one that has Paul laughing throughout. One composing trick that they often used was to employ nonsense words over a new melody line, with an eye toward replacing them when inspiration struck. This would keep the arrangement intact until the final draft was in place.

Regardless of how it took shape, the end result topped singles charts worldwide and sold by the truckload.

Billy Preston's presence made a huge difference.



John brought in “Don’t Let Me Down”, which benefited greatly from the band’s input. Straightforward and impassioned, it is among the first of many songs that would be addressed directly to Ms. Ono. Lennon’s raw vocal is balanced by some nice three part harmony on the chorus, while the musical structure of the bridge has McCartney’s fingerprints all over it. His busy bass fretwork is, complete with octave leaps, a great complement to Starr’s subtle cymbal work. Preston weighs in with tasteful keys to lift the piece even higher. The rooftop performance of this is one of the high points of the Let It Be film, even if John forgets a line and quickly ad-libs some gibberish to fill the gap. George Harrison was heavily influenced by Robbie Robertson’s style of playing at this time, having spent the latter part of ’68 in Woodstock , hanging out with Dylan and the Band. Robertson himself was, in turn, emulating Curtis Mayfield’s instrumental touches. Have a listen to the opening riff and much of the guitar coloring in “Don’t Let Me Down” and you’ll hear very definite evidence of this.



Remarkably, this was relegated to the B-side of the “Get Back” single.

If you really delve into the reams of film and tape that comprise the Get Back Saga, there are some very interesting curios to be found. You do have to wade through interminable reels of discussion and endless takes of “Dig a Pony” to find them though. Should you happen to get your hands on the multi-disc bootleg set (The Get Back Journals) and start cursing Paul out for take 67 of any particular song, you’re blaming the wrong Beatle for your indisposition.

It was John Lennon who pushed the band to strictly adhere to the “live with no overdubs” routine and therefore he was responsible for adding hours of frustration to an already gloomy atmosphere.

Dredging up “Across the Universe” was symptomatic of Lennon’s resistance to present new material. It is a truly decent song, though a definitive treatment was not achieved in the first attempts to record it the previous year. They fared no better during these sessions. Ultimately, what you hear on “Let It Be” is the same version that landed on the “Our World” compilation back in ’68. When Phil Spector was brought in to do reconstructive surgery on the Get Back tapes, he took the original recording, slowed it down, removed the bird sound effects, high backing vocals, added strings and choral voices and made it slightly more tolerable.

Arguably, a much better arrangement could have been hit upon if they had employed the same tough-minded approach to crafting the songs as in the early days. Getting back to the roots would have worked much better if everyone was willing to put in the effort.

Harrison offered up a number of great songs for inclusion, only to be denied due to the already full slate of John and Paul’s compositions. “For You Blue” is a forgettable 12 bar blues, with some wonky slide playing from Lennon and “I Me Mine” is interesting, although neither were of the standard of the majestic songs with which he would fill All Things Must Pass in 1970.

Things weren’t all bad during this time. “I’ve Got a Feeling” was a true collaborative effort, taking John’s “Everybody Had a Hard Year” fragment and welding it together with the main body of Paul’s idea. This “Frankensong” turned out pretty well and is one of the better rock tunes in the set. “One After 909” dated back to a very early chapter of the Lennon/McCartney songbook and its 1969 revival is light years ahead of the clumsy recording that they made in 1963, which was wisely taken no further. That discarded take was made available (officially) with the first installment of their six disc Anthology series.



Speaking of 1963, “Two of Us” started out as a musical ringer of the style that they made famous as Beatlemania first made its way across the UK and into Europe . John and Paul share a mic and some laughs as Paul sings the bridge in an exaggerated Elvis impersonation. Ringo slides back into Merseybeat mode with those famous drum stutters on snare and high hats that punctuated earlier tunes like “I Want to Hold Your Hand” and “Twist and Shout”. This arrangement was soon abandoned in favor of a slower, more folk/acoustic approach, with bittersweet lyrics that almost sound like Paul is making one last attempt to reach out to his soon to be estranged musical partner.

You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead.

McCartney has said that much of the subject matter was inspired by his (then) new relationship with Linda Eastman. Lines like the one above don’t seem to fit that scenario. Whatever the intent, it is a very underrated song with excellent Everly Brothers harmonies. They even saw fit to launch into “Bye Bye Love” following one of the many rehearsals devoted to this one and you can hear Paul throw in a “Take it, Phil”, jokingly referring to Phil Everly in one rendition.



When editing the “Let It Be” film, it seems that many light hearted moments were removed by director Michael Lindsay Hogg.



Pure emotion seems to ooze from every part of Paul’s “The Long and Winding Road ”. Featuring poignant lines, it could almost be construed as another message to John regarding the crossroads that they had reached in their creative partnership. This is not established nor has the author offered any insight as to what inspired him to write this heartfelt piece. Demoed in late 1968 (with the only copy given to Alastair Taylor as gift for his wife), the full band treatment given to the song during the sessions in ’69 is excellent with the exception of John’s bass part, which sounds as if he’s wandering around in an attempt to find the notes. He really should have listened a bit more closely to what McCartney was offering, though it’s probably fair to say that coming up with an inventive bass figure for a tune that he wasn’t particularly excited about was quite low on his list of priorities. More than likely, with Billy Preston on hand, they may have planned to have him play piano and thus, move Paul back to bass for the filmed performance. (This didn’t pan out, though)

When Phil Spector was working with the track, his solution to the weak bass performance was to simply bury it in an avalanche of syrupy strings and choral voices. Interestingly enough, at the same time that Phil was doing orchestral overdubs, McCartney was in a studio down the hall putting the finishing touches on his self titled debut solo album. Had anyone cared to ask, McCartney could have re-recorded the bass part. Ringo came in around that time to do some tracking of percussion with Phil, though relations in the Beatles camp were poisonous at that point with Paul very close to making the announcement that he was leaving the group. He would also unsuccessfully try to block this version of the song for release. Despite Spector’s augmentation, the song would be the last Beatle single and another number one.

This was all about a year and change away from the original sessions.



Glyn Johns was first tasked with assembling a listenable album out of the hours of tape that were produced by the group. John and Paul reportedly pointed to the endless reels that had piled up and pretty much said, “There they are, go to it.” Working with instructions to maintain the “live with no overdubs” edict, he assembled the first mix of Get Back and submitted it for the band’s approval.

Lennon: "The tape ended up like the bootleg version. We didn’t want to know about it anymore, so we just left it to Glyn Johns and said, ‘Here, mix it.’That was the first time since the first album that we didn’t want to have anything to do with it. None of us could be bothered going in. Nobody called anybody about it, and the tapes were left there. Glyn Johns did it. We got an acetate in the mail and we called each other and said, “What do you think?” We were going to let it out in really shitty condition. I didn’t care. I thought it was good to let it out and show people what had happened to us, we can’t get it together; we don’t play together any more; you know, leave us alone. The bootleg version is what it was like, and everyone was probably thinking they’re not going to work on it. There were 29 hours of tape, so much that it was like a movie. Twenty takes of everything, because we were rehearsing and taking everything. Nobody could face looking at it."

It’s not hard to see why they balked at releasing it in this form. I have a vinyl bootleg copy of that version and “flat” is the best description of the performances contained therein. Embarrassing, considering the high standard that they had maintained throughout their recording history. Johns did what he could with the material, though what it really needed was editing and re-tracking of parts, which was strictly ruled out, if only for the time being. He prepared a second mix, which again was not deemed fit for public consumption.

In the meantime, months rolled by and the Beatles decided to scrap work on the project in favor of making a new record, titled after the very street on which stood the iconic building where they had spent much of the decade producing music that the entire world would embrace. This would present a dilemma for the quartet as they now had two full length discs in the can. Get Back stayed on the shelf while the accompanying film was being edited.

The sheer volume of songs that were attempted and recorded during this period is staggering. Determined to hear 1969 updates of “Love Me Do” and covers of Dylan tunes plus future Beatle solo songs worked up by the group, I sought out as much bootlegged material as I could find. One of the first half decent ones that I scored was a fair sounding record called Watching Rainbows. It had lo-fi jams of “ All Things Must Pass ”, “Mean Mr. Mustard” and some undeveloped Lennon tunes (“Madman”, “Watching Rainbows”) though it was pretty entertaining overall.

Warning: Some of the selections from these sessions may look great on paper but a lot add up to nothing more than jokey snippets, half assed attempts at things that trail off and a lot of “I don’t know the words, but let’s do this anyway”.

You could assemble a pretty decent compilation of complete and listenable takes without too much effort as the material is much more readily available, thanks to the internet revolution. If you are extremely tenacious and enjoy all of the extended discussion and silliness that comes with working out musical ideas, it’s at your fingertips.



LET IT BE

Decisions were made to upgrade the finished product from television documentary to the big screen and call it “Let It Be”. Having worked with Lennon on his “Instant Karma” single in early 1970, Phil Spector was then asked to take the year old tapes and try to spin straw into gold.

Handing a stripped down, back to basics group of tapes to one of the most notorious over-producers in the business may have seemed like quite a contradictory move, though Spector’s work was pretty decent overall. Only his treatment of “The Long and Winding Road ” and “Across the Universe” come across as bloated missteps. He used the best rooftop takes, did a nice job on “Two of Us” and chopped out the useless ”all I want is you” passages that prefaced the verses in “Dig A Pony”. Phil’s handling of “I Me Mine” was clever as well, extending the song by adding a repeat of the chorus.

In short, he put the best face on the material that he was given. His burying technique on “The Long and Winding Road ”, while overly syrupy, did cover the horrendous bass mistakes, though McCartney was right in his assertion that his work was being tampered with. The Disney choir and kitchen sink augmentation really robbed the song of personality.

Let It Be (the album) was released in May of 1970 in conjunction with the movie. Initially, it hit the stores as a box set with a fantastic 160 page book containing great photos, courtesy of Ethan Russell, and dialogue from the film. It was then slimmed down to a gatefold sleeve (no book) and later issues eliminated the fold out jacket.



The group was officially pronounced dead a month prior to this, though they had really been cold since the completion of Abbey Road.

They should have cleaned up the rooftop concert and put that out in it's entirety.

Hey, where was the film crew when Revolver was being recorded?

Let It Be captures flashes of the spark that pushed this brilliant musical aggregation to unprecedented heights, though their lack of interest in the project ultimately precluded it from being their best work.

Epilogue: Hey, it's 2003. Pack a flashlight, a couple of shovels and follow me.

McCartney’s desire to deal with unfinished business (and settle scores) was one of the main drivers of the Let It Be…Naked project, which frankly happened because George had by this time joined Lennon in the “great beyond”. Paul was now free to have Phil Spector’s work undone, assembling a team to remove the layers of orchestration from the masters and cleverly restore some of the original takes through the magic of Pro Tools editing software. This mainly involved fixing bass parts and cleaning up some of the rough edges ( i.e. welding an exceptional portion of take 23 on to take 54.)

End result?

Quite listenable, though they should have ditched the useless “fly on the wall” disc and included one that was packed with jams, the complete rooftop concert or any number of gems that currently sit in the EMI vaults. Arguably, this is the most documented period of their storied career, so there is much to draw on.

Perhaps now that the box sets have hit the stores, the good people at Apple could get serious about assembling a more palatable version of the Let it Be movie for DVD release, include all of the fun footage and give collectors something of value to spend their hard earned dollars on.

Just a thought.



There's a great bootleg of a radio broadcast of the Get back album, complete with commercials from that time. What was it called and which radio station originally aired the LP?

GELB UNTERSEEBOOT

YELLOW SUBMARINE

Glancing at the cover of this colorful soundtrack LP, you'll notice that the cartoon John Lennon seems to be thoroughly enjoying the Dio concert that he's attending in his mind.

Fifteen years before that band was even formed!

Quite a visionary.

Contractual obligation reared its ugly head once again in the form of a film commitment. This time out, the band would not even have to act naturally. (or talk, as actors voiced their parts) United Artists and King Features produced an animated film based on the perceived image of the lads circa 1967. Yellow Submarine was a huge smash with critics and fans in the summer of 1968 and still holds up as a pretty entertaining flick. The Beatles were only marginally involved in this project, appearing briefly at the end in a short (cheesy) scripted segment.



Their musical contribution was also slight, to say the least, as they dug up three rejected tunes from sessions dating back to spring/summer of ’67. The fourth "new" song, cut at the same time as the “Lady Madonna” single in February 1968, is the highlight. "Hey Bulldog" is an excellent, off the cuff Lennon tune with a cutting solo courtesy of Harrison’s SG. The brooding, bluesy piano /guitar riff and some wild vocal improvisation at the end make this a fun tune to listen to. McCartney's bass lines are first rate.



Georges Harrison and Martin feature prominently on this record, with the whole second side devoted to the orchestrations of the latter. Harrison ’s two tunes don’t amount to much, though I do love the bass work on “Only A Northern Song”, which was rejected for inclusion on Sgt. Pepper. Somewhat cynical in tone, the lyrics reflect the malaise associated with his diminished role within the group during that time. “It’s All Too Much” has a terrific feedback-laden intro and then proceeds to drone on for a while with the over simplistic summations of one who is entranced by the lysergic experience, but doesn’t quite know how to put the whole thing into words. The whimsical and childlike appraisal of the sensory disruption caused by acid seemed to be much more prevalent in the approach of English writers. Syd Barrett's work on "Piper At the Gates of Dawn" is very much in this vein.

Show me that I'm everywhere and get me home for tea

Adding “Yellow Submarine” and “All You Need Is Love” really didn’t amount to anything of value for collectors, although the stereo master for John’s anthem was used here instead of the poor, “electronically reprocessed stereo” copy that landed on the US version of Magical Mystery Tour.

Word has it that a five song EP release was originally planned, which would have used the four new songs, plus “Across the Universe”. This actually reached the mastering stage before it was decided to include additional material and release the whole mess as a full length album, with “Universe” scratched from the list.

This project was not something that was taken seriously by the group. When initially informed about it, their response was to file any garbage that they recorded and set it aside for the soundtrack.

Mission accomplished.

Curiously, the late 90s saw a major reconstruction of all of the Beatle tracks that were originally featured in the movie. The work involved both remixing and remastering these tunes, ditching the George Martin instrumentals and putting out a new CD (Yellow Submarine" Songtrack") that would serve a s a compliment to the refurbished digital re-release of the movie.



Time well spent.

There are two distinct differences between the original US and UK issues and their corresponding album cover art. What are they? Did this LP hit number one?

A DOLL'S HOUSE

THE BEATLES (aka The White Album)

Fall of 1968 was an incredibly fortunate time for rock fans, with major releases from the Stones, Kinks and Jimi Hendrix. One of the most anticipated discs of that year came from The Beatles. It was the first full length album issued by the group since Sgt. Pepper and expectations were high.

They did not disappoint.



Released five years to the day after With the Beatles, the White Album finds the group making a concentrated effort to revive their ensemble playing skills. Augmentation was present, as well as painstaking hours of overdubbing and building tracks, though the production was scaled back in comparison to the extravaganzas of the previous year. Many believe that this 94 minute blow out is their finest hour, though it slots into second place behind Revolver in my rating system.

Subjectivity in ranking aside, it’s a fantastic collection of music that covers an ambitious range of styles.

No thematic unity is present here at all, though the sequencing of this patchy group of compositions provides the illusion of continuity. John and Paul, with George Martin, did a twenty four hour marathon, staying up and pouring over these tracks to achieve what they considered to be an acceptable running order. The end result was stellar, making it tough to imagine them queued any other way.

Double LPs were an anomaly in the rock world at that time. Eager to fulfill their EMI contract faster they pushed ahead with plans to record everything that they wrote while in Rishikesh, while adding new songs in the process.

Retreating to the Maharishi's Himalayan ashram did wonders for their creativity as they detoured away from LSD for that period, cleared their heads and wrote nearly thirty new songs amongst them. (Even Ringo came up with a tune!) With just their acoustic guitars and a stash of pot for a regular evening joint or two, the songcraft that was missing in the interregnum following Pepper returned with greater clarity.

Imagine the worth of 30 new songs by the Beatles in their creative prime.

For those that have listened to this LP a lot, you will notice a few clouds dotting the horizon as you settle into the first few selections. Steadily darkening, long shadows pass overhead that culminate in a full blown storm toward the end. Side four, in particular, creates a feeling of palpable tension, leading up to the free form chaos of "Revolution 9". In the midst of the tumult, the sky unexpectedly clears, soothing strings from an old Hollywood movie fill the room and the unmistakable voice of Richard Starkey warbles “Good Night”. Had they called it quits after this, it would have made a brilliant end to their recording career.

Tensions ran high during the sessions, with even good-natured Ringo quitting for a short period. Fighting is an inevitable component of being in a band and relations that were already tenuous began to further deteriorate. Lennon, snapped out of his acid reverie, set out to deliberately provoke his mates by bringing his new girlfriend into the studio.

She didn't leave.

Harrison was frustrated with his role as an "economy class Beatle" and the dominance of the Lennon/McCartney songs. Further to that, McCartney had very distinct ideas about what his finished product should sound like (and always had) and drove the others to distraction with his instructions on how to play their parts.

That long fuse attached to the powder keg was now lit and burning away toward the inevitable.

One of the happier episodes of this stretch was the trailer to the White Album, "Hey Jude" released with "Revolution" as it's flip side. Written for Julian Lennon in the wake of his parents split, it is one of the best things McCartney has ever done. The astounding nine weeks that it spent at the top of the charts was a testament to its melodic strength.

Prior to the commencement of proper studio work at Abbey Road, they convened at George Harrison's place in Esher to tape loose arrangements of their new songs. Listening to these demos is quite interesting, as it is essentially "The White Album Unplugged". There are also a few that didn't make the final cut ( "Circles", "Not Guilty", "Sour Milk Sea", "Junk" , "Child of Nature" and "What's the New Mary Jane?") which are definitely worth hearing. The atmosphere is light with mainly acoustic guitars providing the accompaniment.

Certainly sounds as if they had more fun doing this than the real thing.

Starting off strong was a tradition that was kept up with every release and “Back in the USSR ” signals a return from the cosmos back to good old fashioned rock and roll. Mixing Chuck Berry with the Beach Boys, McCartney weaves a clever lyric about the pleasures of being back behind the Iron Curtain. Considering that the former Soviet Union was still a closed shop and that the Cold War had drawn a firm line between democratic and totalitarian institutions, this tune must have completely confounded listeners. Keep in mind that there were spokesmen for the religious right in the US who actually believed that the Beatles were tools of communist propagandists, whose goal was to infiltrate the very corruptible minds of young people and turn them against the ideological tenants of democratic structure.

Interpretation of their work now became a matter of course as besotted, drug addled followers combed every inch of their record covers and lyrics, while at the same time listening for any revelatory “messages” buried in the music.

Have you ever seen the film “Imagine”? There’s a poignant scene that captures a deluded fan at the door of Lennon’s mansion in Tittenhurst. The poor guy obviously came a long way to hear his idol deliver some bad news:

There are no personal messages to anyone in any of these songs. It’s just words and music.

It’s a shame that Lennon wasn’t able to impart this information to Charlie Manson.

Manson believed that the songs on the White Album were a transatlantic memo to him, containing instructions to commit murder, make it look like it was racially motivated and trigger a revolution in the US where a race war would ensue. He envisioned this whole scenario as “Helter Skelter”. Out of the chaos and carnage, Manson and his “family” would emerge from their hideout in the desert to take control over whatever remained standing.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

There was a much more down to earth reason for the senseless killing committed by Charlie’s zombie clan. He was an aspiring singer-songwriter, trying to secure a record deal via his connection to Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. Producer Terry Melcher was tapped to meet him, heard his material, felt an understandably bad vibe emanating from the career-criminal and bailed.

The sad part of the story is that Charlie knew where he lived and the first place that Manson drove his screwed up minions with orders to kill was Melcher’s address. He wasn’t home, though Sharon Tate and other guests at a dinner party being held at the residence were.

Neil Young summed it all up: “The guy doesn’t get a record deal, so he starts wipin’ people out. Dig that.”

Less dangerous fanatics were disappointed that the group had abandoned them on their sunny hallucinogenic trip this time around. The blank cover was then taken as an extreme about face and created another conspiratorial thread amongst followers as to what signals the group was sending out. Some opined that this was a reflection of the "back to the roots" movement that was steering rock music down to earth again, with the Beatles leading the charge.

Wrong.

Don’t follow leaders.

It was Richard Hamilton who conceived the notion of a blank cover. “Since Sgt. Pepper was so over the top,” he told McCartney, “I would be inclined to do a … plain white album.” Each copy could be numbered, he suggested, “to create the ironic situation of [an individually] numbered edition of something like five million copies.” The band’s name would be blind-stamped, white on white, onto the front cover, while an eponymous title would complete the minimalist feel.

Prior to taking up Hamilton's suggestion, "A Doll's House" was the tentative LP title with two alternate ideas in the running for cover art.





The blank cover was viewed as an extension of their sense of humor as well. Pranks played an integral part in much of what they created, though some of the the jokes here are tinged with bitter contempt. "Glass Onion" was designed specifically for that special group of listeners who look for things that aren't there. Having a laugh on the "nutters" as Lennon referred to them, he takes special care to name check a handful of recent Beatle songs, makes reference to a fairly decrepit stretch of the Mersey Banks at the south end of Liverpool where refuse from the sewers would wash up (the Cast Iron Shore) and lets everyone know who the Walrus was. Yanking the collective chains of record buyers may not have been the best move, considering how seriously people were taking their every utterance. It is a purposefully ugly song, with a great clipped, distorted rhythm guitar. I love the bass work in this one as well as the dreary string parts that drift in toward the end of the verses.

Few discs (of that time) have a dirtier guitar sound than this one.

When evaluating this record, it's easier to group the material in terms of what the main song writers had to say. Lennon seems to be all over the map, though quite inspired. "Happiness Is A Warm Gun" really gave everyone a chance to get back in the same room and play together, as did "Yer Blues", which features an unusually sloppy edit right after the solo (that dead cut right to a drum fill and back to the verse to fade). Rising to the challenge, despite the amount of takes needed to nail them ("Happiness" was finally ready after a reported 95 attempts) , the group soldiered on through the large stockpile of tunes. While joke songs like "Piggies" and "Rocky Raccoon" may not have seen the light of day before, they were now allowed on board due to the scope of the project. Unlike the out of focus sludge that they indulged in during the latter part of 1967, these numbers contained wit and while not quite top shelf, they certainly were entertaining.

McCartney played his lyrical cards quite close to the vest, turning in an array of very melodic ("Martha My Dear", "Blackbird", "I Will", "Mother Nature's Son") heavy ("Back in the USSR" , "Helter Skelter", "Birthday") and lightweight ("Honey Pie"," Ob-La -Di Ob -La- Da") music that revealed nothing of himself. He played everything but the brass and string parts on "Martha My Dear", and all but the drums on his cock rocking "Why Don't We Do It In the Road?".

"Helter Skelter" is four minutes of pure noise, with everyone thrashing their respective instruments, prefiguring the heavier fare that was the next logical step in rock's rapid evolution. The blueprint for Led Zeppelin had been drawn up by the high profile power trios (The Who, Cream, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Jeff Beck Group) that now came to prominence. The Beatles were not suited for this style, though in an apparent effort to produce something nastier than the Who, McCartney pushed everyone to rattle the studio walls. One version went on for 27 minutes. Indeed, it is Ringo, who complains loudly about the "blisters on his fingers" from windmilling endlessly around the kit, thus providing another entry into the patois of their followers.

Depending on who you talk to, this is either a pointless mess or a shit-kicking rock song. Opinions differ, though it's amazing that this insanity came from the same four guys who recorded "I Want to Hold Your Hand".

Pity that someone didn't tell Manson the "genius" that the song title was the namesake of a spiral slide, particular to British Funfairs. Maybe he would have just taken the Family to the park and then for ice cream afterward.

Harrison's finest moment on The Beatles is "Long Long Long". Far more imaginative than some of his other attempts to express his passion for spirituality and to embrace his creator, the music oscillates between deep silence and crescendos of drum fills and raised voices. McCartney adds very tasteful, solemn organ fills throughout. Simply stated and beautiful in execution, it is a succinct message of love to someone who had been there all his life, undiscovered, until recently.

God.

Speaking of which, George also brought Eric Clapton in to fire off a few salvos from his cherry red Gibson to add extra weight to the lumbering "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". It is a good song, with one of those chord progressions that every rock band has pulled out of the hat and played for an extra twenty minutes to allow their lead guitarist all of the wanking room that anyone could possibly hope for. It never quite leaves the ground, though it begins with great promise. His acoustic performance of this one beats the album rendition with a stick.

Despite some comedy relief that shows up in places, there is an ominous cloud that hangs over much of what is presented here. Whether this was intentional or not really doesn't matter. Side one begins upbeat and ends with three songs that centre around sadness, killing and guns. Side three is a musical test case in bipolar mood swings from the party atmosphere of "Birthday" to the dirty, sweating and suicidal confessional that is "Yer Blues". Out of nowhere, comes the soft landing pad in "Mother Nature's Son" a paean to the pastoral pleasures of life.

The mono version of the White Album is of particular interest to those who are only familiar with the stereo mix. “Helter Skelter” is very different, with an alternate drum flourish after the break down toward the finish and no trick ending. “Don’t Pass Me By” in mono also sounds much changed from its stereo cousin. Contemporary listeners will have a lot of fun going back and forth between the tracks with the re-release of the catalogue in both formats.

Some of the best moments here come with the understated, acoustic based fare. Lennon improved his finger picking skills, courtesy of the tutelage of one Donovan Leitch while they were in India together. “Julia” was the result of these newfound techniques and is a heartfelt, honest statement of love, addressed to both the mother he had lost and his new partner, Yoko. (she is named in the lyric as Ocean Child). McCartney played producer as Lennon ran through his guitar part numerous times to get it down.

Similarly, McCartney’s “I Will” features tricky changes and some deft riffs that had to be tracked several times over as the close-miked acoustic guitars revealed every nuance (and conversely, any slight mistake). Sitting next to one another, they reveal the different dynamic that John and Paul brought to their craft in a bare bones format.

That divide between the thought process of the two men had always existed, though by now had widened to the point where they became openly critical of each other’s music. Lennon hated the jaunty, reggae inflected “Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da”, while McCartney had serious reservations about Lennon making any overt political comment within the lyric of “Revolution”.

1968 was rife with demonstrations, riots and social unrest, with some American cities literally in flames. Student rallies in Paris culminated in violence, the insanity continued to escalate in Vietnam , eastern Europe and for a time it seemed that societies were coming unhinged.

“Revolution” had it’s genesis in the peaceful Himalayas , far from any hint of the chaos that was taking hold in many areas of the world at that time. Lennon apparently had some anxiety about which side of the fence to plant his ideological feet, counting himself both as “out” and “in” (on the LP only as the faster, heavier single version counts him “out”) for seeking change through violent means. Wonderfully immediate and packing an overdriven wallop, the one that ended up on the B-side to “Hey Jude” carries the most weight. It also succeeds in conveying Lennon’s first instinct about using peaceful methods to achieve the goals of existing movements that were at odds with the inflexible machinery of institution.

The album track of the song is slow, augmented by horns and “shoo-be-doo-wah” backing vocals and was edited to four minutes from its original sprawl.

Robbed of its original context, this great message was torn apart and sold off to Nike for use in a late eighties ad campaign, reduced to a disgusting display of crass commercial interest.

So it turns out that the revolution was televised after all.

Much of what was trimmed off the official LP recording was used to form the basis for “Revolution 9”, a sound collage which has had equal amounts of scorn and praise heaped on it over time. I have read full attempts to break this piece down into sections and analyze it, with one in particular being a very enjoyable dissection. One thing that separates it from other experiments of its kind is that millions of people bought it within a week of its release, smuggled into households within the proverbial Trojan Horse that was the latest Beatles disc.

What does it mean?

You tell me.

What it did provide was a perfect storm to compliment the spooky vibe that is present throughout this magnificent beast of an album. Side four grows especially creepy as the needle steadily progresses toward the run out groove, with a dour song about gorging on chocolate and losing all your teeth in the bargain (“Savoy Truffle”) leading into an unsettling, mock lullaby (“Cry Baby Cry”) that borrows a “Sing a Song of Sixpence” theme, employs a séance and has a dreary, dissonant musical feel. Ending on a question mark, Paul takes up the dark tone with a snippet of a longer improvised acoustic piece.

Can you take me back where I came from, brother can you take me back?

The implication of this well placed bit suggests that the author knew what was coming next and wasn’t keen about moving toward it.

It was too late.

Negative circumstances that surrounded the five months of work that went into this project pushed several members of the creative team to their limit. Tired of the constant arguments, Geoff Emerick walked out mid-way through. Tape operators and engineers recall vicious battles amongst group members, with many work stoppages. More often and not, they were told to go on break while heated discussions took place. One such incident saw George Martin making a polite suggestion to McCartney regarding his phrasing of a line, which drew a “why don’t you come down here and fucking sing it, then?” in response. Usually unflappable, Martin was absent for a stretch because of the hostility factor, leaving the director’s chair to fresh face Chris Thomas. (later to produce a variety of big ticket acts including the Pretenders)

At times, there were several studios running concurrently to meet the demands of the three song writers, who chose to work separately on their tracks after merely employing the others to back them up. Lennon would later say that "we really broke up during this period and it was now just me and a backing group, Paul and a backing group, etc."

The close knit gang that had clawed their way out of playing dives to become world famous now could scarcely stand to be in the same room together.

Rock aficionados have long pondered about what the White Album would have featured had it been trimmed of its fat content. George Martin certainly was in this camp, though the group was not receptive to this plan of action. I do have my personal favorites (“I’m So Tired” stands out), of which rank among some of their very best. Throwing the songs into a digital format gives those listeners with a short attention span the ability to program their own set, unencumbered by the task of lifting the needle from the vinyl to skip cuts.

Viewed from the prospective of those that actually made the record, it really should be taken as it is. It is an eclectic listening experience, serving as a testament to the power of continuous creativity that would be theirs no more after this Herculean effort. They really should have ended the game right here, but instead chose to embark on a project that would drain everyone of their patience and bring their confrontations into the public arena.

The Boys from Liverpool were about to enter into their final act.

Who plays drums on "Back in the USSR" and "Dear Prudence"? What songs were cut from the final running order of the LP? What was "Sexy Sadie" originally titled?

TRAGICAL MISERY TOUR

MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR

When John, Paul, George and Ringo fastened their Santa beards and crept down the chimney pots of their British listeners in December of 1967, they deposited a large hunk of coal called "Magical Mystery Tour" into carefully hung stockings. This six song, seven inch EP, which featured a 24 page booklet, was ill-starred (except for the cover, where you'll find a shit load of them) half-baked (unlike the band members at this juncture) and quite a let down following Pepper.

Disclaimer: If you're a super fan and believe that every note that these guys recorded was brilliant, you may want to stop reading now.

Splendid! For the rest of you, our story begins on page 7 or 8.

Out of the featured soundtrack songs designed for the Mystery Tour, only two come up to the usual high standard set by the group. Worthy of only passing mention, the others fall well below the mark. Let's rip off that band-aid quickly, so that we may continue on a more positive note.

THE BAD

“Magical Mystery Tour” : Works well as an introduction to the movie, but is fairly pointless out of context. The outro bit in the fade should have been developed into something more substantial as it is light years more inspired than the "forced" fanfare that precedes it. Recorded at the tail end of the Sgt. Pepper sessions.

“Flying” : The unedited version, which runs for nearly ten minutes is worth at least one run through. It evolved out of Lennon's extended mellotron experiments. He would get stoned and come up with pleasing sounds. Inoffensive, it performs it’s function as accompaniment to that spectacular aerial footage in the film, though it has little value otherwise.

“Blue Jay Way" : Pleeeeeeeze don’t beeeeeee long.

Too late.

“Your Mother Should Know” – Why stop with mom? Everyone should be warned, just to be safe.

Before we get to the obvious stand out tracks, it must be stated that there are underlying reasons for the paucity of solid material found here. One contributing factor to this uncharacteristic sloppiness was the fact that they were not getting together and playing as a group. Over indulgence in psychedelic drugs played a large role in the loss of critical decision making when it came to what was deemed fit for public consumption. Pot and acid slow the mind down and from this perspective, much of what is actually quite ordinary can seem fascinating. Lennon was dosing himself regularly, headed down a very dangerous path toward mental dissolution. He was very fortunate to be possessed of a strong mind and self-righting mechanism. Most people would have permanently blasted off to another dimension, giggling all the way.

Some did.

Acid casualties were par for the course at this point, many becoming totally unhinged by the drug. Syd Barrett would flame out after completing one spectacular LP with Pink Floyd,. Skip Spence, the driving force behind Moby Grape, got behind some bad LSD and tried to kill one of his band mates with an axe. Following incarceration in a psychiatric ward, he never returned to any semblance of normalcy.

Suffice to say that the merry, communal feeling experienced by the group while under a lysergic spell led to haphazard decisions. Brian Epstein, the guiding hand that they had depended upon to make the trains run on time was in sorry shape. His personal decline and pharmaceutical habits culminated in his accidental death at the tender age of 32. His passing shook the group to the core and their return to business shortly after was bound to be clouded by grief and shock.

Consequently, the rush to occupy themselves by making an offbeat, do it yourself type film with a few musical interludes
would yield mixed results. Oddly enough, I actually like the movie quite a bit. When viewed in the right state of mind, parts of it are quite funny (sometimes unintentionally) and certain scenes prefigure the silliness that would fuel Monty Python's Flying Circus. The music works a bit better when married to the corresponding colorful segments, though it's still paper thin when compared to the rest of their sparkling output.

THE GREAT

Two truly excellent songs were along for the ride on the "Mystery Tour". Paul wrote "Fool on the Hill" back in the spring of '67, and demoed it that September, prior to the proper recording, with some noticeable gaps in the lyrics. Transitioning between D 6th and D minor, the melody is engaging, augmented by flutes and a recorder. Instantly accessible, the delicate arrangement is as subtle as sunrise, breaking out only during the instrumental sections. Employing a literary device that has been the cornerstone of many classics, McCartney's "fool" is perpetually misunderstood and much wiser than the people who pass judgement upon him. Typical of his style, the universal theme is open ended enough to take on any number of interpretations.

What does it mean?

Intrepid souls began to more frequently ask this question with respect to rock music in the late sixties. Dylan's transition toward more oblique and surreal wordplay in 1965 sent many scrambling to rummage through his garbage, intent on cracking the "code" that he'd carefully constructed within his lyrics. Lennon and the others appreciated such jokes and soon began to write in a similar pseudo cryptic fashion.

Upon reading a letter from a boy at his old grammar school (Quarry Bank) who said that they were dissecting Beatle songs in English class, he felt a pang of hostility that arose from having the same head masters write him off as a talentless disrupter while he was a student there.

Inspired by hearing a police siren (the two note UK version) while poking around on piano, he began to form what would become of his most bizarre (but brilliant) compositions. "I Am the Walrus" was lyrically constructed by placing a sheet of paper in a typewriter and adding random lines whenever the mood struck. Childhood friend Pete Shotton was tripping with him one evening and they hit upon an old rhyme that they would recite as school boys. "Yellow matter custard, green slop pie/all mixed together witha dead dog's eye"

"Let the fuckers work that one out, Pete," snapped Lennon as he modified the line and quickly added it.

Be warned, though. If you have listened to these lyrics in the past and merely dismissed them as nonsense, you are in for a surprise. The range of inside jokes and references piled into the scattershot wordplay is pretty impressive. All apologies to those who don tin foil helmets, as there are no messages about dead band mates (Paul), the meaning of life or any memos directed to you personally.

I’m watching you, though.

Now that we’ve scared that crowd off, let’s find out what Mr. Lennon was really going on about.

The Walrus begins with a gentle restatement of the philosophy that all in nature is somehow interconnected.(I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together). Genuinely interested in Harrison ’s increasing immersion in East Indian music and culture, Lennon shared an affinity with his attempt to find alternative spiritual avenues. Similar empathic expression runs through the work of Roger Waters, the best example being found in the opening passages of “Echoes” (Strangers passing in the street /By chance two separate glances meet/And I am you and what I see is me). Psychedelics bring the sensation of interaction with every molecule to the enlightened mind, which is why most people are profoundly changed by their experiences with the drug.

Disclaimer: This is entirely dependent on what intellectual level the prospective user is on before introducing another chemical to their brain. Even then, there are no guarantees of a revelatory, thought provoking trip.

I digress.

Despite the warm introduction, the author takes the opportunity to use this remarkable piece as a vehicle for an extremely vitriolic rant against all of the institutions that he had grown up within and had come to resent. Great Britain’s emphasis on class and social bearing has long been established and how you spoke, your occupation and family history either helped you or kept you in your place. Societal hierarchy is blasted, with shots fired at poet Allen Ginsberg, the Hare Krishna movement, Dylan, intellectual pretension, the educational system, art, culture, the law, religion...Shit, the list is endless.

"Fuck you, England" would have actually been a more apt title.

In addition to very liquid sounding strings, the Mike Sammes Singers add whooping, laughing and chanting throughout. ("Everybody's got one", "Stick it up your jumper"-these lines are teased to sound like "Everybody smoke pot" though these words are not actually sung) The final word comes from a live broadcast of King Lear on BBC's Third Programme. The death scene from the play can be heard crackling in the mix toward the end as it was patched straight into the board during an overdubbing session. If a kitchen sink could have been dropped onto the final master, I'm quite sure that they would have made room.

Lennon in 1980: "The first line was written on one acid trip one weekend. The second line was written on the next acid trip the next weekend... I'd seen Allen Ginsberg and some other people who liked Dylan and Jesus going on about Hare Krishna. It was Ginsberg, in particular, I was referring to. The words "Element'ry penguin" meant that it's näive to just go around chanting Hare Krishna or putting all your faith in one idol.

"It never dawned on me that Lewis Carroll was commenting on the capitalist system. I never went into that bit about what he really meant, like people are doing with the Beatles' work. Later, I went back and looked at it and realized that the walrus was the bad guy in the story and the carpenter was the good guy. I thought, Oh, shit, I picked the wrong guy. I should have said, 'I am the carpenter.' But that wouldn't have been the same, would it?"

I would rank this in the top five out of anything that he'd ever written.

Prior to launching the Mystery Tour on disc in the States, Capitol Records president, Alan Livingston, must have woken from a dream in which he was visited by three ghosts, because the US version actually added music. Featuring all of their 1967 singles, plus the six MMT tunes, it was marketed as a full length album.



So it’s Capitol Records to the rescue! Yay! Giving this time instead of taking, they still bombed the assignment by not using the stereo masters. Cheating, they employed a process termed as “electronically reprocessed stereo” in which certain frequencies are split across the channels (lows on one side, mids and highs on the other) to give the impression of full stereo. Bottom line? It doesn’t sound very good.

The German issue of MMT is in proper stereo.



Reminder: the US MMT album is more or less a compilation deal and was not specifically crafted by the group. The singles were quite good and really helped to prop up the project. "Baby You're a Rich Man" has a great groove, fantastic vocals, exceptional bass work and a positive feel. Recorded in just six hours at Olympic Studios, it hits the spot from a technical standpoint but falls apart as a cohesive song. The verse and chorus don't really work with one another.

An invitation to represent Britain and perform a new song, live, for a program called “Our World” momentarily snapped them to attention. This was to be broadcast worldwide in one of the first satellite transmissions of its kind. Having not played in front of an audience for almost a year, they knew that a great deal of preparation would be involved to avoid a monumental train wreck in front of millions of viewers. When a hard deadline for the “Our World” live satellite broadcast reared its head, they momentarily reverted to type, polishing and preparing a new Lennon tune called “All You Need Is Love”

On the surface, the smattering of music that the group produced in the summer/fall of ’67 seems to represent a bit of a holding operation in the Beatles camp. Having thrown every ounce of energy into the production of Sgt. Pepper, there wasn’t much left in the tank. Under some of the most pressure filled circumstances, the group produced top quality material in a very short period. Given a break from the grind, they were now frittering their time away with 22 minute drum tracks and writing throwaway garbage like “All Together Now”, “It’s All Too Much”, “You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)” and the weak cuts that made it to the Magical Mystery Tour EP. The team that had once carefully sweated over every line and bar in their songs were now turning out the worst kind of lazy, stoned nursery rhymes and getting away with it.

Fortunately, this situation didn't stand.

Stumbling momentarily, the Mystery Tour is a bit of a blight on their wonderful catalog of music. Going into the new year, the main writers would revive their creativity by taking a different kind of trip.



Who was actually in that Walrus costume on the cover? Was the Mystery Tour film screened in the US in 1967?