L-O-L-O-L-O-V-E
One of the standing pontifications in my maternal household is the importance of George Martin on the Beatles. It’s not a debate because no party in the group can acutely pinpoint what is Martin and what is Fab.
For any Beatle-hater, the first argument often taken is that they were a product of the time. That their greatness has more to do with luck than it does talent:
1. The Kennedy Assassination was the most fertile ground ever possible for a musical group. Even more so that the rot compost of Hair Metal in 1991 that launched Nirvana, the overwrought (self-anointed) grandeur of stadium rock that allowed Punk to have an impact in 1975-1977.
There is a valid point here. The short answer is that nobody remembers Gerry and The Pacemakers. The fully developed contrarian argument should include the fatc that Jimi was big only in the states because he was big in the UK before. The long answer is that America still had the Beach Boys. Revolver begat Pet Sounds which begat Sgt. Pepper’s (and 40 years later, Smile). The US had Bob fuckin’ Dylan, and we had Don’t Worry Baby. I Wanna Hold Your Hand on Sullivan may have been a beginning, but we weren’t lacking.
And, I’m going to screw the rest of this.
The only problem with the Beatles is that they broke up.
Listening to the three major break-up albums (the active split being the Beatles as a group) now, 35+ years on, it’s a weird experience. [these albums being All Things Must Pass, Plastic Ono Band, and Band on the Run]
Plastic Ono Band is the most aggressive of the trio. It’s the most independent, the most fierce, and the most introspective to the public eye. While the “I don’t believe in Beatles, I just believe in me” statement was HUGE at the time, it’s now a passing moment in a weak song filled with nothing but statements set to music, and it’s aged horribly.
Band on the Run is the least connected to the Beatles. It’s just Paul doing his thing before he went completely pussy and decided that instead of writing great love songs, he’d write a song about defending crappy love songs.
From the title track, to Jet, Helen Wheels and 1985 it’s a great set of songs. It never quite reaches the triumphs of Band on the Run, which has one of the best guitar lines ever, it’s soaring, yet quiet and all it takes is a second to know what song it’s from.
And then there is George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass. In the pantheon list of great album titles, it’s hard to think of one better for a person and for their time.
Let’s do a list.
1. George Harrison – All Things Must Pass. Without being mean, spiteful, yet hinting to the content of the album, this one just says it all.
2. Bruce Springsteen – Born to Run. Escapism from doldrums to chase the American Dream. Sure it’s the title track, but it’s hard to discount that that single contains all that is needed to be said about the album and spirit.
3. Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon. As in, we’re going to show you everything you never thought possible.
4. Radiohead – The Bends. A dual meaning about coming up too fast as a band because of a fluke single, and the underlying theme about having to deal with the headaches of heartbreak, being submerged in love only to come up alone again.
5. The Clash – London Calling. The original title was “The New Testament.” It was supposed to be a nod that this is what music is supposed to be, tongue in cheek, of course, but what emerged was maybe the epitome of English music, you can create it, we can perfect it.
6. AC/DC – Back in Black. From shoot to thrill to Rock and roll ain’t noise pollution, this was the first album of a band which had lost a singer, but didn’t lose it’s spirit.
7. The Strokes – Is This It? As if to say, is that all there is, are we worth hype? Yes, and Yes.
8. Marvin Gaye – What’s going on. Maybe the hyperbole of modern black music can be tied to this album on a generational level, but in an honest sense, it’s a bare response to the situation, like NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, as opposed to say 50 Cent’s Tha Massacre.. For all of the seeming self-righteousness that could be deemed from a title like that, it now seems less like a shout for recognition but a call for attention.
9. Rolling Stones – Exile on Main Street. As in, we’re fucked up, we’re in the spotlight, and yet we feel alone. For an album that seems to be about recovering from a hangover in life and doing so to the public… why not deem the experience exile.
10. The Notorious BIG – Life After Death. It’s just too surreal not to conclude with.
And well, the Beatles Love.
To call it a mash-up would be technically correct, because it’s a mashing of two or more different songs to make a new track which takes the best parts of one song and puts them with the best parts of another. With the exception that these songs are all from one artist, the term mash up is fair.
It’s the Beatles as we know it, this time in a new life.
Watching High Fidelity with Steaze last week, I was reminded of a piece of my vernacular, and where it came from.
When Barry (Jack Black) and Dick (the other guy) are standing, hunched over at the register desk listening to the EP by the Kinky Wizards (the name of the skateboard punks musical outfit) Rob (John Cusack) asks who it is, and Barry tells him, and then says, in an apologetic and flabbergasted sentiment:
“It’s... it’s really fucking good.”
By all accounts, this should merely be a retread for commercial gains. It shouldn’t be an album that gets into the pantheon. A bunch of songs that we have heard 1000 times or more re-imagined for a full length album, and put out in the holiday season.
It’s…it’s really fucking good.
And it cements George Martin as a key part of the Beatles. He was like Eno to Bowie, Goodrich to Radiohead, Rubin to the Beastie Boys and Metallica. It’s not that he made them better, it’s that he focused the group and knew how to get the most out of the songs.
I don’t care if it’s playing off the highlights of a group, as I didn’t care when Danger Mouse made the Gray Album, but maybe that’s me giving the Beatles the credit.
It’s not the best album of the year, but god knows I’ll listen to it more than any other. It’s a clip show of an album that makes me remember why exactly I fell in love with a band years before me.
While I haven’t given testament thus far, I’ll say that now, on this version, Within You Without You is great if you are not stoned. That’s fucking progress. It's really good.
For any Beatle-hater, the first argument often taken is that they were a product of the time. That their greatness has more to do with luck than it does talent:
1. The Kennedy Assassination was the most fertile ground ever possible for a musical group. Even more so that the rot compost of Hair Metal in 1991 that launched Nirvana, the overwrought (self-anointed) grandeur of stadium rock that allowed Punk to have an impact in 1975-1977.
There is a valid point here. The short answer is that nobody remembers Gerry and The Pacemakers. The fully developed contrarian argument should include the fatc that Jimi was big only in the states because he was big in the UK before. The long answer is that America still had the Beach Boys. Revolver begat Pet Sounds which begat Sgt. Pepper’s (and 40 years later, Smile). The US had Bob fuckin’ Dylan, and we had Don’t Worry Baby. I Wanna Hold Your Hand on Sullivan may have been a beginning, but we weren’t lacking.
And, I’m going to screw the rest of this.
The only problem with the Beatles is that they broke up.
Listening to the three major break-up albums (the active split being the Beatles as a group) now, 35+ years on, it’s a weird experience. [these albums being All Things Must Pass, Plastic Ono Band, and Band on the Run]
Plastic Ono Band is the most aggressive of the trio. It’s the most independent, the most fierce, and the most introspective to the public eye. While the “I don’t believe in Beatles, I just believe in me” statement was HUGE at the time, it’s now a passing moment in a weak song filled with nothing but statements set to music, and it’s aged horribly.
Band on the Run is the least connected to the Beatles. It’s just Paul doing his thing before he went completely pussy and decided that instead of writing great love songs, he’d write a song about defending crappy love songs.
From the title track, to Jet, Helen Wheels and 1985 it’s a great set of songs. It never quite reaches the triumphs of Band on the Run, which has one of the best guitar lines ever, it’s soaring, yet quiet and all it takes is a second to know what song it’s from.
And then there is George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass. In the pantheon list of great album titles, it’s hard to think of one better for a person and for their time.
Let’s do a list.
1. George Harrison – All Things Must Pass. Without being mean, spiteful, yet hinting to the content of the album, this one just says it all.
2. Bruce Springsteen – Born to Run. Escapism from doldrums to chase the American Dream. Sure it’s the title track, but it’s hard to discount that that single contains all that is needed to be said about the album and spirit.
3. Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon. As in, we’re going to show you everything you never thought possible.
4. Radiohead – The Bends. A dual meaning about coming up too fast as a band because of a fluke single, and the underlying theme about having to deal with the headaches of heartbreak, being submerged in love only to come up alone again.
5. The Clash – London Calling. The original title was “The New Testament.” It was supposed to be a nod that this is what music is supposed to be, tongue in cheek, of course, but what emerged was maybe the epitome of English music, you can create it, we can perfect it.
6. AC/DC – Back in Black. From shoot to thrill to Rock and roll ain’t noise pollution, this was the first album of a band which had lost a singer, but didn’t lose it’s spirit.
7. The Strokes – Is This It? As if to say, is that all there is, are we worth hype? Yes, and Yes.
8. Marvin Gaye – What’s going on. Maybe the hyperbole of modern black music can be tied to this album on a generational level, but in an honest sense, it’s a bare response to the situation, like NWA’s Straight Outta Compton, as opposed to say 50 Cent’s Tha Massacre.. For all of the seeming self-righteousness that could be deemed from a title like that, it now seems less like a shout for recognition but a call for attention.
9. Rolling Stones – Exile on Main Street. As in, we’re fucked up, we’re in the spotlight, and yet we feel alone. For an album that seems to be about recovering from a hangover in life and doing so to the public… why not deem the experience exile.
10. The Notorious BIG – Life After Death. It’s just too surreal not to conclude with.
And well, the Beatles Love.
To call it a mash-up would be technically correct, because it’s a mashing of two or more different songs to make a new track which takes the best parts of one song and puts them with the best parts of another. With the exception that these songs are all from one artist, the term mash up is fair.
It’s the Beatles as we know it, this time in a new life.
Watching High Fidelity with Steaze last week, I was reminded of a piece of my vernacular, and where it came from.
When Barry (Jack Black) and Dick (the other guy) are standing, hunched over at the register desk listening to the EP by the Kinky Wizards (the name of the skateboard punks musical outfit) Rob (John Cusack) asks who it is, and Barry tells him, and then says, in an apologetic and flabbergasted sentiment:
“It’s... it’s really fucking good.”
By all accounts, this should merely be a retread for commercial gains. It shouldn’t be an album that gets into the pantheon. A bunch of songs that we have heard 1000 times or more re-imagined for a full length album, and put out in the holiday season.
It’s…it’s really fucking good.
And it cements George Martin as a key part of the Beatles. He was like Eno to Bowie, Goodrich to Radiohead, Rubin to the Beastie Boys and Metallica. It’s not that he made them better, it’s that he focused the group and knew how to get the most out of the songs.
I don’t care if it’s playing off the highlights of a group, as I didn’t care when Danger Mouse made the Gray Album, but maybe that’s me giving the Beatles the credit.
It’s not the best album of the year, but god knows I’ll listen to it more than any other. It’s a clip show of an album that makes me remember why exactly I fell in love with a band years before me.
While I haven’t given testament thus far, I’ll say that now, on this version, Within You Without You is great if you are not stoned. That’s fucking progress. It's really good.
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