Wednesday, December 31, 2008
It was a new label for Paul in the States—is that why there was no poster or lyrics?—and two new Wings joined up just in time to help out. In the days when punk was still a fresh news item, Back To The Egg was designed for progressive FM radio, with an emphasis on the Rock, and an edge that had seemed to be missing from his sillier love songs. (Despite the success of the disco-flavored single “Goodnight Tonight”, it wasn’t included.)
The opening track, “Reception”, is bound to bewilder American ears that aren’t familiar with all the sounds from the different countries fading in and out of British radio. But the bass line is funky, and those keyboards are pretty sci-fi as well. “Getting Closer” continues the rock feel, and like most of his recent heavy singles, sank on the charts. “We’re Open Tonight” repeats the same theme over and over, but is done soon enough. (If you’ve been listening exceptionally closely, you may discern a theme to the album: that of getting back to basics and back on the road. It’s not obvious.) “Spin It On” is Paul’s salute to speed metal. Good luck trying to understand the words. “Again And Again And Again” is Denny’s, while it could have been Paul writing for all we knew. “Old Siam, Sir” is also impenetrable, but has enough attitude to make it good, especially those breaks. (Also released as a single, it too tanked.) “Arrow Through Me” has a smooth funk sheen to nicely end the side.
“Rockestra Theme” is performed en masse by two dozen all-star invitees set up around the studio like an orchestra. It was a good idea, and the tunes he wrote fit like a glove, even if you couldn’t pick out anyone’s particular style. “To You” gets major demerits for these lyrics: “What if it happened to you/Get it out of my shoes/You’re stepping on my toes/Get it out of my nose”. But it does rock, particular the synthed-up guitar solo. A couple more ‘look! It’s a medley!’s follow. “After The Ball” is half-finished, while “Million Miles” has us standing at the side of a fjord with a concertina. “Winter Rose” has you checking your needle, as his voice sounds so scratchy. It’s nice by itself, but when added to “Love Awake” it gets lifted. There’s even a “snow” reference to hearken back too. Very nice. “The Broadcast” is a lovely classical melody that’s about as repetitive as “We’re Open Tonight”, only with poems on top of it, apropos of nothing. (Has the “theme” revealed itself yet? Don’t worry, it won’t.) “So Glad To See You Here” has the Rockestra again, with yet another reference to “We’re Open Tonight”. “Baby’s Request” is another music hall saloon song, and while it doesn’t Rock, ends it all neatly and as a nice add-on as the big show’s encore.
Back To The Egg got lambasted at the time. America’s record-buying market had long succumbed to the idea that singles promote albums, so the public didn’t know what to expect. Columbia didn’t know what to do with it either, and they didn’t promote it further than they had to. (One nasty review even says the cover depicts Paulie staring glumly at his career having fallen through a hole in the floor into the vacuum of outer space.) While it should have appeased those of his ready-made consumers who said he’d been getting soft, it just confused the public as a whole. What some call diversity, others call bandwagon jumping. It’s held up just fine for those willing to give it a chance. (The CD adds the excellent B-side “Daytime Nightime Suffering”, plus both sides of the most annoying Xmas single in music history: the execrable “Wonderful Christmastime” and the instrumental “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reggae”.)
Wings Back To The Egg (1979)—3½
1989 CD reissue: same as 1979, plus 3 extra tracks
Monday, December 29, 2008
Don’t be alarmed by his poodle perm on the cover, disturbing as it is. George Harrison surfaced what seemed like ages after his last album, in an era when only Paul seemed to be worthy of our wallets. It turned out George was worth our time and money this go-round.
The opening notes of “Love Comes To Everyone” are encouraging, and the rest of the song is just as good. There’s lots of guitars, and he found a decent synth sound in Steve Winwood’s Oberheim. A fantastic start. “Not Guilty” is a softer, nearly note-for-note version of one of the more famous Beatles outtakes. Its slow fade at the end sets us up for another rewrite, the slightly successful “Here Comes The Moon”. While nowhere near as universal as its predecessor, it uses a sinuous electric piano bed to support the upside-down acoustic guitar line. On its own, it’s right on target. “Soft-Hearted Hana” starts with the atmosphere of his favorite local pub before leading us on a lysergic trip through vaudeville, complete with fluctuating tape speed towards the end of the song. The side closes with the charming “Blow Away”, proving he could really write a hit single when he wanted to. It’s also a very happy song for a change.
A racing car revs up in the left channel and zooms over to the right to start “Faster”, a tribute to his new buddies at Brands Hatch. “Dark Sweet Lady” is a fairly overt song for his new wife, with Hawaiian undercurrents aplenty. “Your Love Is Forever” is just gorgeous all over: an open tuning that doesn’t drone, with melodies and harmonies just packed with real emotion. George has always layered his own backing vocals on his albums, and always in such an unobtrusive manner that they’re often ignored. This is another one of his love songs that could apply to any object you wish. “Soft Touch” may not necessarily be about his young son, but it’s still catchy. The album ends on a strong, upbeat level with “If You Believe”, co-written with Dream Weaver and longtime Harrison session rat Gary Wright.
On its own, it’s not much, but coming after the last few, it has endured. From start to finish George Harrison is an enjoyable listen, and doesn’t embarrass even in the slightest. At the time it didn’t get any respect—it was a really bad hairdo—but it’s certainly aged the best out of any of his mid-to-late ‘70s albums. Overall, it’s a genuinely enjoyable listen, since he seems so content with his current situation. Coming from Paul, this mood would have started to grate. Coming from George, it was a welcome sensation.
George Harrison George Harrison (1979)—3½
2004 box set reissue: same as 1979, plus 1 extra track
Friday, December 26, 2008
Since he was about to jump ship to Columbia for a lot of money, EMI put out a Wings hits album. Even though not all of the tracks are technically Wings songs, Wings Greatest proves Paul’s point that he’d moved on from his previous band. And with otherwise unalbumized singles adding up to nearly an hour of music, it was a worthy purchase for its time.
One of those singles kicks off the set. “Another Day” was originally a teaser from the Ram sessions, a portrait of Eleanor Rigby as a modern lonely secretary. It may not have been that exciting on the first listen, but hasn’t grown too annoying in the meantime. “Live And Let Die” was a big deal both as a movie theme when James Bond films were really big deals, and also as Paul’s first collaboration with George Martin in over three years. It’s another case of Paul writing a song quickly without worrying about the words. (“And in this ever-changing world in which we live in”? Yeesh.) “Junior’s Farm” is a great rocker about a card game or something; all those guitars, that ending—another of his more underrated tracks. This was Jimmy McCulloch’s first appearance on a Wings record, and listening to it now just shows off what a great guitarist he was. “Hi Hi Hi” was an early attempt of Paul’s trying to come off as a rebel, and it worked, suggestive lyrics and all. “Mull Of Kintyre” did nothing in the States, but managed to break the record for the most copies sold in the UK. (The previous champion? “She Loves You”. Paul’s record would stand until “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”, which features his voice on its B-side.) It’s a nice three-chord pub singalong, complete with bagpipes. As for the rest, not all of the hits are here, but the ones that do appear in their longer album tracks. (And while there were no lyrics in the package, he did include yet another two-sided poster.)
For telling the story up to this point, Wings Greatest succeeds. It’s since been surpassed by other compilations, but it’s still a nice artifact from the days before McCartney could be accused of shilling empty “product”.
Wings Wings Greatest (1978)—4
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Every Christmas from 1963 to 1969, the official Beatles Fan Club sent its members a specially recorded flexi-disc, consisting of dialogue, comedy and exclusive music from the boys. Ranging from four to eight minutes, they were always a nice holiday surprise for the fans every year, along with the hit single and new album they hoped to find underneath their trees. In 1970, after the group had splintered for good, fans received an actual LP, consisting of all those flexi-discs, with a clever retrospective cover to boot.
In addition to being a lot of fun, The Beatles’ Christmas Album provides a fairly descriptive arc of their career. 1963’s message is excited and fresh, with the boys breathlessly thanking their fans for making them famous. 1964’s greeting is similar, but with a bit more wry humor sneaking in between the songs and speeches. By 1965, they’re just as exhausted as they are restless to do something new, making the humor even more pointed (doubtlessly helped by all the pot they were smoking). The turning point arrives in 1966, where the straight talk is replaced with a collection of short skits, bookended by the original “Everywhere It’s Christmas” and featuring the unique performance of “Please Don’t Bring Your Banjo Back”.
1967’s message takes the idea further, combining a Monty Python-esque sendup of BBC programming with the slightly psychedelic group original “Christmas Time Is Here Again!” interspersed in and out, along with such other jingles as “Plenty Of Jam Jars” and “Get Wonderlust For Your Trousers”. It was the last of the collaborative fan greetings; 1968’s disc—complete with an appearance by Tiny Tim—was recorded by each Beatle separately and edited together after the fact, as was the John-and-Yoko-heavy 1969 message. Even so, their personalities are consistent: Paul is musical; Ringo is a clown; George thanks their closest friends for sticking with them; and John is consumed with his public personal life.
Since EMI has the rights to holiday-themed songs by John, Paul, and George, logic would suggest that an official Beatles Christmas CD, expanded or not, would be a perennial holiday best seller. As it is, these seven tracks, a continuously entertaining 45 minutes of speech, skits and song, lead the short list of Beatle recordings fans would like to see officially released, and their continual non-appearance remains a mystery. Except for a three-minute montage based around “Christmas Time Is Here Again!” included on a mid-‘90s CD single, plus a severe edit of the 1963 message that snuck out on iTunes in 2010, none of these messages have been in print or distributed since 1970. Instead, its continual absence from legitimate shelves has led to The Beatles’ Christmas Album being endlessly counterfeited and pirated over the years. Some of the better-packaged bootlegs contain all of the messages in pristine sound, with various relevant outtakes to fill up the disc. With just a little digging around cyberspace, these can be heard and enjoyed all year long.
(Footnote: even if the Fabs didn’t have much use for each other in the new decade, they retained fond memories of these little gestures for the fans. John and Yoko prepared a segment for a possible 1970 message just in case, followed a year later by the original “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)”, which is probably being played on a radio station somewhere at this very moment. Also doubtlessly saturating the airwaves today is “Wonderful Christmastime”, Paul’s contribution to the genre, which has been wearing out its welcome since 1979. George’s “Ding Dong, Ding Dong” was a 1974 single, and Ringo recorded a whole album of rock ‘n roll holiday tunes in 1999.)
The Beatles The Beatles’ Christmas Album (1970)—4
Current CD equivalent: none
Monday, December 22, 2008
Just when we were getting used to this new lineup of Wings, Paul and Linda didn’t make it through the sessions before being pared back to three. Denny Laine had been the only constant thus far, and they kindly rewarded him by including his picture on the cover and letting him sing and write more.
Much of London Town was recorded on a boat in the Caribbean where they could presumably smoke pot in peace, yet the bulk of the music still has a more continental flair to it. The title track has been described as the lost song from a Broadway show. It’s not unpleasant. One would think this has the other two guys on it, since the drums and screaming lead guitars sound too, well, polished. “Café On The Left Bank” takes us to Paris for some more foreign intrigue. “I’m Carrying” is too sweet for its own damn good. “Backwards Traveller” doesn’t do anything, and neither does the “Cuff Link” that’s about as clever as its title. “Children Children” is a nice kids’ song, but sits too close to the Michael Jackson homage “Girlfriend”. Paul wrote it for him, let him use it and began an acquaintance that would bite him in the ass in ten short years. The midsection with its nasty guitar solo salvages the tune. “I’ve Had Enough” is the first rocker here that would have worked onstage. But it’s pretty pointless.
“With A Little Luck” is too long, despite the creative use of the synthesizers. This was classic McCartney tailor-made for AM radio, except for his insistence on including the word “damn”. At the same time, “Famous Groupies” went right over most kids’ heads. It seems odd that Paul would sing about groupies at this stage in his career, not having seen one in over a decade; maybe the roadies had good stories. “Deliver Your Children” was a mild radio hit, another folk departure for Denny. “Name And Address” has a Sun rockabilly flavor to it, and though it was recorded before the death of Elvis Presley, it’s a fitting tribute. It also winds down to a halt right when it should and after the album has already worn thin. “Don’t Let It Bring You Down” does just that, sadly, and “Morse Moose And The Grey Goose” is his most pointless song since “Loup”. The first minute or so is good in a “Beware My Love” kind of way, but it just leaves the listener stranded in the middle of the sea.
With its poster, lyrics and custom labels, fans were getting spoiled with the packaging. Too bad the album doesn’t stand up to repeated listening. London Town was his longest album yet, so we get a lot of music packed into the grooves, but the recipe doesn’t seem prepared correctly. Not enough salt? The good moments were starting to become farther between, if not necessarily fewer. (The CD includes the rocking and risqué “Girls’ School”, a contemporary B-side. We will discuss the A-side shortly.)
Wings London Town (1978)—2½
1989 CD reissue: same as 1978, plus 1 extra track
Friday, December 19, 2008
It had been common knowledge for years that the concerts at the Hollywood Bowl were professionally recorded, yet had sat in the can due to the equivalent sound levels of Beatle vocals (when the mikes worked), instruments and several thousand fans. By 1977, great strides had been made in sound separation, so George Martin sat down with tapes from one 1964 show and two 1965 shows, and managed to combine them into a fairly cohesive unit just over 30 minutes. Although the result of the combination was something of a compromise, thanks of the quality of the recording compared to audience tapes of other shows, The Beatles At The Hollywood Bowl has endured as a definitive document of a time long past. This has yet to appear on CD officially; bootlegs demonstrate the occasional sloppy performance, repetition and equipment malfunction throughout each of the performances. Still, it would not be asking too much for Apple to issue a single disc containing a complete show from each year. (Of course, knowing them, they’d give us one show on each disc, charging the full double-disc price. But that’s assuming an official version of The Beatles At The Hollywood Bowl will ever surface.)
Of course, there were plenty of other live performances captured for posterity, at the very least visually. The 1965 Shea Stadium concert and a few 1966 Tokyo concerts were expertly filmed and broadcast, and most of their final show from Candlestick Park in 1966 has been circulating for years. But for reasons known only to Apple, none of these have been cleared for official release, either on audio or video. (There is another entity of live recordings that have managed to sneak into the racks of legitimate record dealers. The 1962 Hamburg tapes began their interminable saturation around the same time as the Hollywood Bowl set. The first release on the Lingasong label usually gets mentioned in the official discographies; the music itself is nothing special, while it has its moments, again, as a historical artifact.)
The Beatles The Beatles At The Hollywood Bowl (1977)—3½
Current CD equivalent: none
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
By now Paul had truly emerged as the champion, to the point where younger fans might not have been aware he was in a band before Wings. Just in time for Christmas, Wings Over America contained a blemish-free version of every song performed on Paul’s first American visit in ten years. And the crowds went wild. (Supposedly there was some studio tinkering between the recording and mixing stages, but this has not been authenticated.) It’s a good package, even if most of the songs sound identical to the album versions. The original six sides are neatly divided, with piano sections, acoustic sections, Beatle detours and “our new album”.
Appropriately the “Venus And Mars/Rock Show” medley starts it all, going directly into “Jet” when we least expect it. It’s a good rocking start to the set. Side two starts with the version of “Maybe I’m Amazed” was released as a single, complete with extended ending. It was the best choice. “Lady Madonna” and “The Long And Winding Road” excite the crowds, before the pyrotechnics of “Live And Let Die”.
Side three is acoustic. “Picasso’s Last Words” is started, going into Simon and Garfunkel’s “Richard Cory” sung by Denny for some reason. A few more Beatle hits round out the side. Denny also gets to sing his Moody Blues hit “Go Now”, amidst some more piano songs on side four.
Side five is devoted to the new album, with four strong choices for the crowd: the hits “Let ‘Em In” and “Silly Love Songs”, Denny’s “Time To Hide” and a blistering “Beware My Love”. Side six is back to the rocking encores. “Hi Hi Hi” makes its first album appearance, as does “Soily”, a Wings live staple for years, never included on any other album.
The packaging of Wings Over America is quite complex, with custom sleeves, labels and posters, and the album as a whole is a good souvenir of a good night out. One truly gets a sense of the excitement of seeing one of the biggest bands of the Seventies that also happened to feature a Beatle. And the official Wings horn section doesn’t get in the way at all.
Wings Wings Over America (1976)—3½
Monday, December 15, 2008
Capitol had just begun the repackaging campaign, plus George was on his way to Warner Bros. by way of A&M. So they decided to seize the moment and exploit George’s continuing commercial status. In their minds, The Best Of George Harrison would include Beatles songs so they put seven of them on side one, none of them rare. Side two includes all of his solo A-sides save “Ding Dong”, though it did include the studio version of “Bangla Desh”. This was a quick holiday cash-in to compete with his next “real” album.
Originally intended to coincide with his 33⅓rd birthday, Thirty-Three & ⅓ was trumpeted at the time as his best album since his first. Today, it’s hard to see why. Granted, the songs are back to a tempo that gets your toes tapping, but several years on it has dated badly, just as Paul’s contemporary disco arrangements have. “Woman Don’t You Cry For Me” may have been started in 1969, but the recording is all 1976 thump. “Dear One” is a more pleasant hymn, but the synthesizer torpedoes it. “Beautiful Girl” was intended for All Things Must Pass, and gives support for the idea that he really ought to consider the other songs he never finished for that album. “This Song” is one of his best, a fantastic defense of his writing process that, at the time, had been costing him money and leaving him in litigation. Here again is the humor that had been so lacking of late. “See Yourself” also dates from the Maharishi era, but stumbles around too much to be appreciated.
“It’s What You Value” is filled with hooks and a very enthusiastic vocal, but goes nowhere. “True Love” is soaked in what had become George’s trademark sound, but is actually a Cole Porter tune. (In all seriousness, George should be commended for exposing his listeners to all kinds of music they’d otherwise ignore.) “Pure Smokey” is a retread of the last album’s “Ooh Baby”, literally thanking God for Smokey Robinson. “Crackerbox Palace” is the other hit, and a catchy one; the arrangement for once actually enhances the song. “Learning How To Love You” closes us out, and he finally gets the sound he wanted on the last album right. The jazz chords fit the vocal, and the guitar solo is virtuosic without showboating. But do you really feel like hearing the whole album again?
Besides producing others and helping out friends, George stayed busy for most of the ‘70s, and had let the public hear quite a bit of music. But the promise he seemed to exude when finally allowed to shine on his own six short years earlier seemed to dim. Despite his continued success, his laissez-faire attitude towards the pop business was about to take serious root.
George Harrison The Best Of George Harrison (1976)—4
George Harrison Thirty-Three & ⅓ (1976)—2
2004 box set reissue: same as 1976, plus 1 extra track
Friday, December 12, 2008
While the Beatles’ individual recording contracts expired in 1976, EMI retained the rights to the recordings, and so began the next wave of sporadic catalog raidings. But now they had the added marketing challenge of getting fans to buy songs they had already. So each of the original singles—which had never been deleted—got a shiny new picture sleeve, and the Rock ‘N’ Roll Music collection came out just in time to cash in on the Helter Skelter TV movie about the Manson trials. In a year where Paul was defending his tendency toward silly love songs all the way to #1, here was a two-record set designed to prove that the boys could rock. Funnily enough, the bulk of the songs come from 1963 and 1964, when they were considered a “pop combo”, with a handful of much “heavier” songs on side four coming from the later years. Moreover, many of the songs were covers. For collectors, only a few songs were repeated from the Red and Blue albums, plus this was the very first LP appearance of “I’m Down”. Purists cried foul at the contemporary mix by George Martin, while the artwork leaned too close to ‘50s Happy Days nostalgia. John had supposedly offered to do a cover, yet Capitol declined, which is a shame. (The album was later split up into two budget LPs with new but nearly identical covers, and sold pretty well in the wake of John’s murder.)
Another two-record rehash appeared in 1977, and just in time for Christmas too. Love Songs was to serve as the other side to the rock ‘n roll, but the novelty was starting to wane. Eight out of 25 tracks were on the Red or Blue albums, and come to think of it, picking out specific Beatles songs as examples of love songs is about as logical as picking rock ‘n roll songs. The packaging had a faux-leather motif, and a thick book with all the lyrics in calligraphy added to the candy bar/photo album idea that had been beaten into the ground already by Chicago. The famous Richard Avedon photo on the emblem, gatefold and poster was retouched so Paul’s head is bigger than the others (he being the only Beatle still signed to EMI in 1977).
Both albums garner a satisfactory rating solely on the basis of the music within. Neither of these collections has been retooled for CD and probably never will be. Nor should they be.
The Beatles Rock ‘N’ Roll Music (1976)—3
Current CD equivalent: none
The Beatles Love Songs (1977)—3
Current CD equivalent: none
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Somehow Paul managed to throw together another album in between touring various countries around the world. The packaging on Wings At The Speed Of Sound wasn’t as lavish as on its predecessors, except for the custom labels, and he gave half the space on the rest of the album to the other band members. He’d been trying to prove to the world that Wings was a band for five years, and now he had the clout to do it.
“Let ‘Em In” is an awfully tedious song that managed to be a hit anyway, and we’re still not sure why it works. Most of the people mentioned are McCartney family members. Denny Laine sings “The Note You Never Wrote”, a spooky tale that is interesting despite itself. The jaunty “She’s My Baby” follows, and it’s also grown over the years. “Beware My Love” fades up from this, with an early acoustic vocal section as a diversion, then wham! This one was made for the stage. It’s got a relentless, driving power to it, and the band sounds great. “Wino Junko” is Jimmy McCulloch’s second, and ultimately, last writing contribution to Wings. Both songs warned against drug abuse; considering he would die of an overdose within two years it’s odd he didn’t take his own advice.
“Silly Love Songs” has 1976 slathered all over it, and is one of those songs you can’t help liking. The bass line pulls you right along, and all the sections weave nicely at the end. This is Paul sticking his tongue out at the critics, and getting a blockbuster #1 hit in the process. Linda sings “Cook Of The House” to nobody’s pleasure but Paul’s, followed by Denny’s own “Time To Hide”, which would also work well on stage; another stomper with heavy wah-wah guitar. Joe English gets to sing “Must Do Something About It”; he’s about as unique a singer as he is a drummer. (It’s interesting to see which songs Paul kept for himself, isn’t it?) “San Ferry Anne” is insignificant, and simply refuses. But “Warm And Beautiful” is another sneaky underrated one, extending the “Maybe I’m Amazed” theme both musically and lyrically. An elegant if anticlimactic end to a schizophrenic album.
A world tour was underway when this hit the stores, and the setlist leaned heavily on this and Venus And Mars. The best songs on stage were also used well as hit singles. Wings At The Speed Of Sound was a monster hit, but was also an obvious rush job, and has not improved with age as a whole. Paul had started to follow trends instead of setting them, so that increasingly his albums didn’t transcend eras or genres as they depended so much on contemporary production styles. (The CD includes three anachronistic bonuses: the B-side “Sally G” and both sides of an instrumental single credited to the Country Hams, all recorded in Nashville in 1974 and released the same year.)
Wings Wings At The Speed Of Sound (1976)—3
1989 CD reissue: same as 1976, plus 3 extra tracks
Monday, December 8, 2008
John had made some mutterings about a new album, but never got around to recording anything. Instead, he stayed home and let his contract finish with a hits collection. Shaved Fish was the first gap-filling Lennon compilation, and the one that is still the model for all the others that have come since. What we have here is a very well-rounded look at John’s solo career, which at the time of original release was only six years long. (Each of the songs had been singles, although “Stand By Me” was not included.)
The idea of bookending the album with short, different excerpts of “Give Peace A Chance” is interesting, but most of us would prefer to have the complete single version. After an almost pastoral opening, it’s jarring to have “Cold Turkey” blast through one’s head. John was irritated that the Beatles didn’t want this to be their single—and can you blame them?—but it’s still a key document of his autobiography in song. “Instant Karma!”, distorted as it is, is still a joyful number, and a strong candidate for anyone’s fantasy late-1970 Beatle album. “Power To The People” always seemed out of place, though it’s intriguing to hear him change his mind about revolution yet again. Side one ends with the single edits of “Mother” and “Woman Is The…”, while side two is all album tracks with the exception of “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)”. Since 1980 this, like “Imagine”, has come close to wearing out its welcome every December, but it’s still such a nice song with such a neat production (listen for the stings playing “Silent Night” over the second chorus). Several folks have recorded their own carbon copy versions, but there’s no beating the original. The fade here is smothered by a cacophonous segment of “Give Peace A Chance” from the 1972 One-to-One concerts. (And if you’re keeping score, “Whatever Gets You Thru The Night” appears in a slightly shorter single edit.)
In 1975 we had no idea this would be his last release for five years, nor would we imagine it would be the second to last release in John’s lifetime, which only adds to its stature. It is very convenient to have these singles here, for they add to the flow of the running order. Other compilations since released are more complete, but this still was the first. (It fits comfortably on one side of a 90-minute blank tape too, which is also convenient.)
John Lennon Shaved Fish (1975)—4
Friday, December 5, 2008
Arriving barely ten months after the Dark Horse album and tour, it was almost a shock to hear from George so soon. Extra Texture came complete with two grinning photos and a cover designed to resemble the feel of a basketball, suggesting that he was enjoying this cockamamie business after all. However, that’s not the impression one gets listening to the actual album.
Easily, the best track is “You”, left over from the same Ronnie Spector sessions that had spawned “Try Some Buy Some”. This is an incredibly simple song, but it’s so pretty and such a great production it’s a success. (And he knew this too, which is why he added another thirty seconds of it at the start of side two.) From there, it’s straight downhill, hitting tree trunks and rocks along the way. “The Answer’s At The End” is another Frankie Crisp-inspired plea for understanding that is buried, like the rest of the album, underneath a plodding arrangement. “This Guitar (Can’t Keep From Crying)” is the first of his occasional rewrites. It’s very similar to the far superior “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, but pales in its shadow, being much more forced with a burping Moog bass part borrowed from “Jive Talkin’”. “Ooh Baby (You Know That I Love You)” is an inaudible salute to Smokey Robinson, and while “World Of Stone” aspires to emulate the Spectorisms of All Things Must Pass, it misses widely.
The aforementioned “A Bit More Of You” fades into “Can’t Stop Thinking About You”. Perhaps he was so consumed by the one of whom he was thinking that he couldn’t write better lyrics. “Tired Of Midnight Blue” is a step in the right direction, but its arrangement sounds so much like the rest of the clinkers here that it’s too late. “Grey Cloudy Lies” also can’t get us out of the driveway, so we’re stuck with the in-joke of “His Name Is Legs (Ladies & Gentlemen)”. The protagonist—and guest vocalist—is supposed to be one hilarious fellow, but this does nothing to illustrate it, taking six minutes to boot.
Most of the songs on Extra Texture are upbeat in a smooth soul manner, with a lot of romance on his mind. But outside of “You”, there is little of any lasting value on this collection. He neatly finished off his obligation to Apple, and said goodbye with an eaten-away logo. The album doesn’t inspire much interest today, and should the Harrison estate get around to reissuing it, it’s hard to say what could be the value-add.
George Harrison Extra Texture (1975)—2
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
His confidence restored (and Capitol’s too, as they re-signed him with a pile of cash they didn’t offer the Other Three after Apple folded), Paul picked up a lead guitarist with a similar name to the last one and two drummers in rapid succession. Venus And Mars is more of a rock album, and had a little more input from the new members. (He also reverted the band name to just Wings and racked up a pile of 45-only tracks that would be welcome in an album context.)
The proceedings start like his concerts would, with the almost pastoral title track colliding into the stomping “Rock Show”. Can you name any other song that mentions Jimmy Page? The “oi” section, silly as it is, still brings a smile and the piano part at the end almost makes up for the voiceover. “Love In Song” sneaks up on you, and it’s achingly gorgeous. It’s one of those underrated classics that he manages to put on every album. “You Gave Me The Answer” fits in with his music hall tunes from ‘67 and ‘68, and is real sweet. From there we go to the Marvel Comics world of “Magneto And Titanium Man”, and one of his best album sides ends with the FM rock of “Letting Go” (there’s that Rickenbacker bass).
Side two isn’t nearly as strong. “Venus And Mars (Reprise)” puts us in space with the “Spirits Of Ancient Egypt”. Denny Laine sings this one, and it makes absolutely no sense, but it was designed to Rock so that will have to do. Jimmy McCulloch sings his own “Medicine Jar” (more on that topic later), a very heavy tune. “Call Me Back Again” tries in vain to recapture the “Oh! Darling” sound; the production makes up for it. If he wrote it just to play it on stage, that makes sense, since he was doing all he could to avoid the Beatles songs as much as he could. After an interminable fadeout, what sounds like a Wolfman Jack impression but probably isn’t goes from speaker to speaker right into “Listen To What The Man Said”. This is another classic McCartney song, though to this day we still don’t know who the man is or what he’s telling us. The saxophone is a lot of fun, and coming from someone who hates saxophones and Tom Scott as a rule, that means something. The panoramic ending takes us right into “Treat Her Gently/Lonely Old People”, yet another example of Paul fitting two unrelated songs together because he can. The joke at the end of this album is the theme to the British soap opera “Crossroads”, which sounds like it might as well be a McCartney melody. “And that’s basically it.”
Venus And Mars set out to Rock, so it succeeds on that score. Putting all the pieces together it makes mathematical sense, but doesn’t seem to inspire many listens these days. Paul now had enough tunes and a heavy-hitting band to take on the road for the sole purpose of ruling the coliseums for the next 18 months. (Also, following the lead of Band On The Run, this one upped the ante with two posters, stickers, gatefold and lyrics; the CD didn’t have those but added some later B-sides recorded around the same time.)
Wings Venus And Mars (1975)—3½
1988 CD reissue: same as 1975, plus 3 extra tracks
Monday, December 1, 2008
The existence of this album necessitates some background. By the time Mind Games had come out, John was already in LA drinking heavily and trying to record his favorite moldy oldies with Phil Spector. After that went badly, he wrote the songs that became Walls And Bridges and moved back to New York. The oldies project was more or less in limbo, and this album probably wouldn’t have come out when it did if not for some further odd turns of events. But once he’d decided to finish it for good, the remainder of the recordings went relatively quickly. The result was a surprisingly cohesive mix of the LA debacle and the NY fix-it job.
“Be-Bop-A-Lula” kicks us off fairly simply. (It also happens to be one of the songs John was singing the day he met Paul.) “Stand By Me” follows; it’s this version of that has become the pop standard most people know and love. His trademark reggae-strumming style (see “A Day In The Life”) sets the pace, and he turns in one of his greatest vocals ever, cementing his as one of the best voices in rock. “Ain’t That A Shame” and “Slippin’ And Slidin’” are fantastic, and the two medleys are effective yet faithful juxtapositions, but it’s the other twisty ones that still raise eyebrows. Most, but not all, of these tracks can be blamed on Spector, who thought it would be a good idea to slow down these tunes to dirge tempo. The percussion effects, like the cowbells and that thudding sound straight out of “Rock On” by David Essex, may have worked in the ‘70s, but only annoy ears today. “Do You Want To Dance” sounds like Bette Midler, and that’s not meant kindly. “Bony Moronie” just doesn’t work at anything less than top speed. “Just Because” was Phil’s idea (John hadn’t heard it before the first sessions), but John finished it at the New York sessions, effectively saying goodbye to that crazy show business.
Rock ‘N’ Roll doesn’t get as much play as his others, mostly because it’s so disjointed and partly because it’s not insightful lyrically. But his heart is in every note, which makes it above average. He probably could have recorded five more albums’ worth of his favorite songs from his youth, but again, this didn’t turn out like he’d envisioned it, and was essentially released to combat a marginally legal bootleg. (The 2004 CD reissue boasts improved sound, a handful of photos, nothing more in the way of liner notes, and dubious extra tracks: three songs from side one of the 1986 compilation Menlove Ave. and an faded-in reprise of “Just Because” seemingly included for name-checking the Other Three.)
John Lennon Rock ‘N’ Roll (1975)—3
2004 remaster: same as 1975, plus 4 extra tracks