Frank Zappa 52: Playground Psychotics

After preparing and releasing twelve hours of music collated from his entire career, Frank’s next big project was dedicated to the Flo & Eddie era of the band. Playground Psychotics combined field recordings with concert excerpts to provide a widescreen portrait of what he called “A Typical Day On The Road”.

Each disc starts with several minutes of indexed dialogue captured by his trusty portable tape recorder, capturing the band and roadies in conversation on planes, in hotels, and backstage. One segment is an interview with the manager of the hotel where the infamous “mud shark incident” took place. “Diptheria Blues” is a dressing room jam featuring Aynsley Dunbar on whiskey bottle. Much of the humor, onstage and off, is clearly visual, so lovers of in-jokes and bathroom humor will be in heaven. Things get truly nutty when we get to hear tape recordings featuring playbacks of recording captured on other band members’ tape recorders, culminating in the closing segment on disc two. Some of this was excerpted from the videotape The True Story Of 200 Motels, briefly documenting the cause and result of Jeff Simmons quitting the band, not wanting to be fodder for Frank’s thesis at the expense of his musicianship.

The musical excerpts are far more interesting, with further songs from the Rainbow Theater show that ended with Frank being knocked off stage, which we don’t get to hear here. While the Pauley Pavilion is listed as another source, the only music heard from that show is a short “Divan” segment of what would become “Sofa”. Instead, much of the music comes from the Fillmore stint, including older songs and a thirty-minute “Billy The Mountain” (cobbled together from two shows) that’s actually listenable. One of the key selling points of this album outside the Zappa faithful is an alternate mix (and edit) of what Beatle fans knew as side four of John & Yoko’s Some Time In New York City, documenting their guest appearance with the Mothers. Despite being given such new song titles as “Aaawk” and “A Small Eternity With Yoko Ono”, “Well” is still the only segment of true musical appeal.

Because of the anthropological approach, Playground Psychotics will be mostly of interest to fanatics who can stomach Flo & Eddie. While cramming several months of material into two CDs is no small feat, a larger context was certainly needed. Sure enough, the band’s two sets at Carnegie Hall in October 1971 were released in a four-CD package forty years later, in decent-sounding mono and including a performance by the doo-wop combo and support act The Persuasions. (Carnegie Hall was reissued a little over eight years later as a three-disc set that omitted the Persuasions segment.) Hearing the transitions and dynamics as played shows just how hot the band was, but you also have to endure the vocalists’ attempts at humor. “Magdalena” is even more repulsive here, and 15 minutes are devoted to “The Mud Shark”. There’s a more complete “Divan” suite (including “Stick It Out”, eight years before Joe’s Garage) with lots of four-letter words in English and German. Beyond that, “King Kong” runs a half an hour to accommodate solos—though it abandons the 3/8 meter after the first minute or so—and “Billy The Mountain” is now up to 47 minutes.

That was all well and good, but connoisseurs would be even more sated ten years after that by The Mothers 1971. This eight-CD set encompassed all four unedited Fillmore sets (including John & Yoko, unexpurgated) and the complete Rainbow show, with another sixteen songs from Scranton and Harrisburg in between to present a sort of virtual concert. With so many repeats of the material, “Billy The Mountain” emerges as a major if silly work, and we can almost start to appreciate the musicality of the “Shove It Right In” suite; it’s just too bad that the lyrics are so puerile. If you want to hear a ribald take on “My Boyfriend’s Back”, here’s your chance. Turns out Don Preston only played on the encores at the Fillmore, which certainly helped cool Frank’s otherwise petulant mood. Don’s fully on board at the Rainbow, leading the opening “Zanti Serenade”, extended for another ten minutes here. “Wonderful Wino” is still in the set, and the encore was “I Want To Hold Your Hand”, after which we can actually hear Frank hitting the concrete floor.

Frank Zappa/The Mothers Playground Psychotics (1992)—2
Frank Zappa & The Mothers Of Invention Carnegie Hall (2011)—2½
The Mothers The Mothers 1971 (2022)—2½

John Lennon 17: Signature Box

While it seemed we had been through this already, Yoko and an eager EMI decided to celebrate what would have been John Lennon’s 70th birthday with a small pile of new catalog items. Power To The People: The Hits was supposed to replace Lennon Legend, apparently, while offering a more affordable option to 2005’s Working Class Hero: The Definitive Lennon double-CD package. Those who wanted to tread a little further were invited to enjoy Gimme Some Truth, which evenly divided 72 songs across four thematic CDs. And Double Fantasy Stripped Down applied the “naked” philosophy to the last album he released in his lifetime.

The big deal of the program was Signature Box which offered up the eight studio albums from Plastic Ono Band through Milk And Honey, remastered from the original mixes (unlike the batch everyone had picked up over the previous decade) with new liner notes but no extras that weren’t on the original LPs. A six-track CD entitled “Singles” covers “Give Peace A Chance”, “Cold Turkey”, “Instant Karma”, “Power To The People”, “Happy Xmas” and “Move Over Ms. L”, and to further entice the completist, “Home Tapes” presents 13 demos and outtakes, some familiar but legally purchasable for the first time ever. Most of the studio alternates come from Plastic Ono Band, except for a radically different “I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier”. Of the demos, it’s nice to have clean copies of “One Of The Boys”, “India” and another “Serve Yourself” variation.

Since we’re fans of (most of) the original albums, we’re always happy to have an excuse to listen to them. The packaging is slim and sleek, with full lyrics and extra photos (though Yoko seemed to think Some Time In New York City needed more mid-1969 shots). Naturally, the biggest complaints concerned what was left out of the set. Besides ignoring most of the bonus tracks from the earlier CDs, previous Yoko-approved sets, like Menlove Ave. and Live In New York City were missing in action, although a handful of songs from those albums (as well as Live Peace In Toronto) did find their way to Gimme Some Truth. And if you wanted the Stripped Down version of Double Fantasy, that meant you ended up with two copies of that album.

If it were truly all-encompassing, we might be more inclined to rate it higher, yet at the same time, we don’t know if we’d be able to stand having (to buy) everything all over again. We wouldn’t have put it past them to have something will emerge to commemorate his 75th birthday in 2015, and therefore inspire further gnashing of teeth. But we’d also much rather have had the opportunity to hear what other music he might have created beyond that ten-year window.

John Lennon Signature Box (2010)—3½

Rolling Stones 37: Rock And Roll Circus

Way back in 1968, around the time of the original release of Beggars Banquet, the Stones decided to promote it with a TV special built around the concept of a variety show, with guest performances and their own mini-concert set. It was then shelved immediately after filming completed, ensuring that Rock And Roll Circus became one of the most legendary unreleased projects of the rock era. (Incidentally, Michael Lindsay-Hogg can claim involvement in two such deals.)

Its legend only grew when one of the performances, the Who playing a fantastic version of “A Quick One”, was included in their 1979 movie The Kids Are Alright. With its status as a notoriously incomplete event, it was particularly surprising when the film (and matching CD) was released intact a good 28 years after the original taping.

It was worth the wait. Rock And Roll Circus is an amazing snapshot in time, showing the Stones at a key place in their development, playing “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and four songs from Beggars Banquet, and previewing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”. Even Brian Jones played with enthusiasm, adding some slide guitar despite one hand in a cast. (He’d be dead the following July; indeed the liner notes make mention of all the participants who’d passed on in the interim.) And of course, we always like hearing Nicky Hopkins play piano.

The guests are revealing, as well. Taj Mahal wasn’t well known anywhere yet, and Jethro Tull still sounds like a blues band. Marianne Faithfull sings one song sweetly, and the Who did indeed blow everyone else off the stage with their definitive take on “A Quick One”. The most surprising performance was that of the Dirty Mac, a supergroup involving Eric Clapton, Mitch Mitchell, and Keith Richard (on bass) backing John Lennon for a rendition of “Yer Blues” from the just-released White Album. Unfortunately, the same combo continues playing behind Yoko Ono, in a sloppy jam you’ll be happy to skip.

When it finally came out, Rock And Roll Circus did indeed live up to its hyped legend. One only wishes that the bands could have played more songs, and longer. They did, after all.) But what’s there is what there was, and the program flows nicely on CD. Finally.

Over the years various DVDs offered bonuses in the way of additional footage and multiple angles, but it took another two decades for any further audio to be released. Nothing was added to the main program, but the deluxe expanded package added a second CD with three further Taj Mahal songs and Brian’s introduction of two pieces by classical pianist Julius Katchen (who would beat Brian to the grave by a couple of months due to cancer). Most exciting are three more performances by the Dirty Mac: an alternate take of “Yer Blues”, a long-bootlegged “Warmup Jam”, and even a passable attempt at “Revolution” that breaks down when John says he doesn’t remember what to do for the solo; why he didn’t just ask Nicky Hopkins, who played it, is lost to the ages.

The Rolling Stones Rock And Roll Circus (1996)—4
2019 Deluxe Edition: same as 1968, plus 9 extra tracks

John Lennon 16: Acoustic

Starting around 2000, Yoko starting authorizing and releasing remastered versions of John’s solo CDs, many of which had appeared without much fanfare in the late ‘80s. The reissues came at odd intervals, and raised more than a few eyebrows over both sound and packaging. For the most part, there were extra tracks here and there, but nothing incredibly revealing from the vast vaults.

That changed with Acoustic, an odd little sampler released concurrently with the 2004 update of Rock ‘N Roll. While that album was supposed to be about his ’50s roots, Acoustic presents John unadorned, with only his acoustic guitar, on a variety of familiar songs pulled from home demos, studio runthroughs and even some live performances.

It’s a nice idea, and gets most of its points for thoughtfulness, even if the selection is on the chintzy side. Most of the tracks are repeated from the Anthology box, though others make their first “official” appearances. “Well Well Well” is an early-stage demo with only half the lyrics, while “God” contains the spoken prelude as heard on the Lost Lennon Tapes radio series. “My Mummy’s Dead” uses the full sequence that was excerpted for Plastic Ono Band. “Cold Turkey” is the earliest track, a very jittery performance. After jumping ahead to a couple of songs from the Nixon years, “What You Got” is a more complete demo of the song than heard on the box. “Dear Yoko” comes from Bermuda, while “Real Love” is a longer version of the segment used to open the Imagine soundtrack album.

Knowing how much she’s sitting on, it’s easy to fault Yoko for practically throwing this together. But her dedication to future guitarists seems heartfelt, and including chord symbols and charts to the packaging is a very nice touch.

For some time, this had been the last “new” collection of Lennon material, though there would be yet another rollout of the catalog to celebrate his 70th birthday. Over thirty years—thirty years!—since his murder it’s heartbreaking to think of all the untapped potential, the songs he hadn’t thought of yet. He could have made several more albums, or he could have given it up after Milk And Honey. We’ll never know. Instead, we clutch at every straw, every glimmer of something new and different that we haven’t heard a million times and committed to memory. And that’s why there will always be a market for albums like Acoustic.

John Lennon Acoustic (2004)—3½

John Lennon 15: Anthology

After years of backpedaling and increasing bootlegs, the success of the Beatles Anthology convinced all parties involved that a similar box devoted to John would be a lucrative exercise. For the most part, the John Lennon Anthology is chronological, with the occasional inexplicable detour, neatly divided into four sections: “Ascot” covers Plastic Ono Band and Imagine, “New York City” takes us up until “The Lost Weekend”, with “Dakota” covering what would be the end.

As often happens, many of the tracks aren’t that different from the released versions. Case in point: the very first song, a redundant alternate of “Working Class Hero”. But every now and then a track surfaces that’s illuminating. An earlier take of “Isolation” shows how they came up with the best way to nail the middle section. There’s a hilarious run-though of “Remember” that shows him in a light-hearted mood. “God Save Us” and “Do The Oz” are included for completists’ sake, and the latter sounds a lot less hideous on the 2000 Plastic Ono Band reissue.

The second disc nicely includes some songs from various contemporary benefit concerts, as well as the better “Stop the war” take of “Come Together” from the One-to-One show. Two uncompleted home tapes from 1970 show how “Mind Games” was assembled, and we even get John’s guide vocals on a few Ringo tracks. “One Day (At A Time)” is included in an earlier, far superior take with the vocal in a lower register, giving it a much more relaxed and much less panicky approach that would have been improved Mind Games greatly. “Real Love” is on this disc for some reason, and we notice that “Free As A Bird” isn’t included at all.

The third disc expands on the material that went into Menlove Ave., reaching its apex with “Be My Baby” (finally!) and exposing the nadir in several shouting matches with Spector. “Stranger’s Room” is an early blueprint for “I’m Losing You”, and an effective transition to the final disc, which rises to the challenge of actually adding something to the hours upon hours of tapes already out there. High points include the Cheap Trick version of “I’m Losing You”, some dialogue with Sean and an edited “Dear John” which may have been his last recording. “Grow Old With Me” features a George Martin orchestration, recorded after the Threetles had passed on it their own Anthology. The “Something More” section of the fourth disc covers some of the skits and satires he tried while on hiatus, ending with a wistful “It’s Real” snippet. It inspires a sigh when it ends, a sad reminder that the buried treasure will always be finite.

The packaging is certainly pretty, in a soothing light blue sky with clouds motif. The liner notes leave something to be desired, though Yoko’s essays on each period are pretty poignant and, combined with the man’s voice, one is reminded only too clearly that the world just hasn’t been the same since that December night.

As with most archival releases by anyone, Anthology is hardly the place to start if you don’t have anything and everything else. Luckily for the rest of us, not all of the tracks are straight repeats from the Lost Lennon Tapes series, so this is certainly a nice addendum to the bootlegs. (Wonsaponatime was a concurrently released single-disc distillation of the box, and is truly for collectors only.)

There are, again, hours upon hours of other pieces that could have gone on here, but Yoko always has the last word as to what goes into the official documents. Also, with the emphasis on music and enlightening the uninitiated, she didn’t bother with more studio patter and background that would be more insightful to us students. After all, she’s trying to run a business here.

John Lennon Anthology (1998)—3½

John Lennon 14: Imagine Soundtrack and Lennon

Part of Yoko’s continued re-establishing her husband’s legacy included authorizing a syndicated radio show that served up hours of unreleased music and interviews with people willing to chime in about it. It also coincided with a feature-length documentary, right around the time of Albert Goldman’s hachet job.

The Imagine soundtrack was the obvious tie-in to that film, and the marketing folks most likely wanted to make it as accessible as possible for neophytes. While it’s admittedly convenient to have a nice pile of Beatle classics alongside John’s solo hits, collectors didn’t really need another version of “Help!” or “In My Life” in their racks. But it does present a nice round musical look at John, and going through his recorded history chronologically tells volumes more than the idea that his life started in May of 1968.

As for the alternate tracks, this was the first official appearance of “A Day In The Life” with a clean intro. The live take of “Mother” is also a clever change of pace. The quick run-through of “Imagine” to the session guys who’d never heard it before nor imagined (sorry) that it would become such a famous song is charming. Even the unfinished quality of “Real Love” was obvious to the Threetles when they embellished it in 1995. Again, the album is a good introduction, especially if it leads the listener to the original albums. Which was the idea anyway.

By the time the film was gathering dust in video stores, the box set had become a big deal in music retail. Consumers expected great packaging with a well-rounded overview; collectors wanted this plus better sound and rare stuff. The Lennon box set sits on the fence between complete and holy grail, while being neither.

It starts naturally with “Give Peace A Chance”, then gives what was the first CD appearance of four tracks from Live Peace in Toronto. All of Plastic Ono Band is represented. And that’s just the first disc. Disc 2 has all of the Imagine LP save “I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier”, a dip into Some Time In New York City and a couple of tracks from the One-to-One shows, ending with a smattering of the more notable tracks from Mind Games.

Disc 3 has most of Walls And Bridges, plus a sampling of both the Spector and non-Spector sessions for Rock ‘N Roll, but sadly includes “Angel Baby” over the then-unreleased “Be My Baby”. The three live tracks from his final live appearance at an Elton John concert fittingly close out the disc. Disc 4 is an idea that should have existed on its own: all John’s Double Fantasy and Milk And Honey tracks, plus the “solo” remix of “Every Man Has A Woman”, without Yoko’s songs to interrupt them. This is the preferred way to take these in.

With all the space on these discs, there could have been more album tracks, or at least more rare or unreleased stuff, but they’d also promised that an official Lost Lennon Tapes box would be out shortly. (It took eight years.) The booklet keeps it simple with all the lyrics but no other annotations. Therefore the music stands for itself, and while we can argue all day about the songs that were left off, it’s still a pretty listenable box set. And a rare one too, as it was never widely available.

John Lennon Imagine: Music From The Original Motion Picture (1988)—3
John Lennon Lennon (1990)—4

John Lennon 13: Menlove Ave.

When this album appeared in the fall of 1986, it was unclear at first glance just what we were getting. Side one seemed to consist of Rock ‘N Roll outtakes, but what was with all those Walls And Bridges retreads on side two? Obviously these were all originally recorded outside of Yoko’s immediate sphere of influence; did she even know what these tracks were? (And the packaging: a clear plastic inner bag, no lyrics, limited notes, the same basic Warhol art on front and back covers…)

Looking back, she did us all a favor by putting these tracks out, and whetted the appetites of the uninitiated to the many marvelous Lost Lennon Tapes to be discovered. As it turned out, the second side is quite simply the 1974 precursor to Unplugged. These are fascinating, stripped-down run-throughs of five Walls songs, with minimal accompaniment by the cream of his post-Beatles cohorts: Jesse Ed Davis, Jim Keltner, and Klaus Voormann. The experience is intimate and stunning. “Steel And Glass” is even more cutting here, with some vocal ad-libs that’ll curl your hair. The alternate “Bless You” is even more achingly tender, and “Scared”, “Nobody Loves You”, and “Old Dirt Road” are just as interesting.

However, side one still seems half-baked today. “Here We Go Again” is listed as a songwriting collaboration with Phil Spector, but it doesn’t live up to the hype. “Rock ‘N Roll People” is cut from the same pointless boogie cloth as “Move Over Ms. L”, with even less clever wordplay. (It was obvious John couldn’t find direction in his originals, which was another excuse to go to LA.) “Angel Baby” was on the Roots version of the Rock ‘N Roll album; he sounds drunk singing this, and he probably was. “Since My Baby Left Me” tries to get a party going and fails. Yet it’s “To Know Her Is To Love Her”, in Spector’s drastically slowed-down style (typical of his work at the time), that gives John a chance to pour out his heart, proving that perhaps he had learned something from Janov after all. This experiment, and leads perfectly into those performances on side two.

Coming the same year as the official release from the One-to-One concerts, we fans began to get spoiled. But the bounty would be limited, for Menlove Ave. was slightly ahead of its time; had they remained on the shelf in 1986, these tracks would all be prime cuts on the Lennon Anthology when it finally arrived in twelve years’ time. Or failing that, in the remastered CD era, they could have been bonus tracks for the albums themselves. (And indeed, some, but not all, were.)

John Lennon Menlove Ave. (1986)—3
Current CD availability: none

John Lennon 12: Live In New York City

Back before he completely lost his mind, Geraldo Rivera was a TV journalist who initially made his name exposing bad behavior a la 60 Minutes. Following an exposé on the living conditions at a home for the mentally ill, he convinced John and Yoko to stage a benefit concert in the summer of 1972, which they did. In the end, two shows were staged.

Nearly fourteen years later, an album of the event finally got an official release. It had been a TV special a decade earlier, and would occasionally show up on the radio; plus being John’s only full length solo concert performances outside of Toronto, what became Live In New York City had certainly gained stature. Yoko was nice enough to take out all of her songs for the LP version (yet left some in for the concurrent VHS release); purists still cried foul over the remixing and choice of performances, as most came from the afternoon show. “Welcome to the rehearsal,” John himself says at one point, and rightfully so.

The overall performance is rushed and sloppy; despite what anyone thought, Elephant’s Memory—fresh off the recording of Some Time In New York City—was simply not that good a band. Tex Gabriel was okay on the guitar, and saxophones are a matter of personal taste, but when Jim Keltner is onstage as the second drummer that should tell you something. And why exactly did they need two bass players? Still, they took care of John’s needs at the time, and he didn’t have the patience to audition people like Paul did. (He also didn’t pretend to be democratic.)

The fact that he showed up and rose above the other guys on stage makes up for the lackluster details. The most entertaining segments are the between-song comments—especially “Someone shouted ‘Ringo!’ That was last year” and “Here’s another song I wrote after I left the Rolling Stones”. “Imagine” and “Instant Karma” at the piano make for cool listening, and “Hound Dog” is thrown in to show off his roots. The last track is a minute’s worth of “Give Peace A Chance”, a different mix from the one on Shaved Fish but just as much of an afterthought.

Live In New York City doesn’t have the raw energy of Live Peace In Toronto, or the giddiness of his appearance with Elton John in 1974, but as a historical document it’s still essential — assuming you can find it, as it’s out of print now — and that’s where it gets its points. It was a pleasant surprise to be getting more authorized visits into the archives, and we no idea where it would go from here, if at all.

John Lennon Live In New York City (1986)—3½
Current CD availability: none

John Lennon 11: Milk And Honey

As far back as the autumn of 1980, upon the release of Double Fantasy, we heard that there would shortly be another album from John and Yoko, to be called Milk And Honey. Was this it? We’ll never know. Still, it’s intriguing to see that the songs John left off of Double Fantasy weren’t any worse than the ones he did choose.

With the fun kablam of “I’m Stepping Out”, you’re nodding your head and enjoying the ride. This is slowed down by Yoko’s herky-jerky “Sleepless Night”, as the album is also sequenced with the call-and-response that defined its predecessor. The lackluster “I Don’t Wanna Face It” is another hint that perhaps househusbandry wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and “Don’t Be Scared” does little to diffuse that. But man, “Nobody Told Me” was great on the radio, and still cool today. (We heard “there’s nappies in the bathroom” instead of the British pronunciation of “Nazis”, which still makes more sense.) “O’ Sanity” is inoffensive, and luckily stops short.

“Borrowed Time” was the third single, and the one everybody pounced on as “prophetic”. (John sure liked reggae, even if he couldn’t play it.) “Your Hands” is a Japanese lesson, and we’re still not sure whose hands Yoko’s singing about. John comes crawling back with the hideous “Forgive Me (My Little Flower Princess)”, which does nothing to erase any stereotypes. “Let Me Count The Ways” may or may not have been written in 1980; nonetheless “Grow Old With Me” is very much the wedding song John wanted it to be. Since he didn’t have the chance to record it all big and lush like he heard it in his head, this voice-piano-and-rhythm-box demo will have to do. The spooky “You’re The One” ends the album with a mournful sigh for what might have been.

While it’s nice to have these John songs, they work much better on their own rather than interrupted by Yoko. There is still some question whether Milk And Honey would have been released in this form had he lived; additionally, were Yoko’s songs also left over from 1980 or added on to make this as close to Double Fantasy as possible? Either way, this was the first tantalizing peek into the vaults, which would continue in spurts from time to time and illuminate much better material. (The 2002 CD reissue included an increasingly common mix of Yoko’s “Every Man Has A Woman” with John’s harmony brought to the front, along with home demos of “I’m Stepping Out”, “I’m Moving On” and several minutes from a December 8th interview.)

John Lennon & Yoko Ono Milk And Honey (1984)—3
2002 reissue: same as 1984, plus 4 extra tracks

John Lennon 10: The John Lennon Collection

Just in time for Christmas 1982, Geffen had managed to license some EMI-owned songs to add to their Double Fantasy tracks for a “new” Lennon album, with an air of sheer commercialism dancing around its existence. That being said, as an LP The John Lennon Collection succeeds in that it includes the complete single version of “Give Peace A Chance”; it also utilizes a slightly remixed “Love”, the minimalist beauty from Plastic Ono Band. Side two begins strongly with “Imagine” and “Jealous Guy”, then retreads most of John’s half of Double Fantasy, all radio hits save “Dear Yoko”. (“Oh Yoko!” would have been a better choice but perhaps not as economically feasible for Geffen at the time.)

The Estate redeemed itself with the 1989 CD reissue by including the original single version of “Happy Xmas” (with correct printed lyrics), plus “Stand By Me” and the previously unalbumized B-side “Move Over Ms. L”. “Cold Turkey” rounds things out, if ending the disc on a harsh note. “Dear Yoko” still should have hit the scrap heap, and couldn’t they have added “Nobody Told Me” by then?

Nevertheless, the music was still good, but that wouldn’t prevent the Estate from attempting further compilations at random intervals. 1997 brought the packed-to-capacity Lennon Legend. Subtitled “The Very Best of John Lennon”, it included everything on Shaved Fish except that song with the N-word in the title, key album tracks like “Love”, “Working Class Hero”, “Jealous Guy”, and “Stand By Me”, just the four singles from Double Fantasy, and “Nobody Told Me” and “Borrowed Time”, which revisionist history likes to portray as “prophetic”. The chronology was a tad strange, but the overall sound was hotter, so it’s a nice place to start. Eight years later, his 65th birthday was the excuse for Working Class Hero, so-called “The Definitive Lennon”, which rendered both Shaved Fish and Lennon Legend obsolete, and added enough album tracks to fill up two discs. The only rarities not in standard versions had been available already. But there would be more of the same soon enough.

John Lennon The John Lennon Collection (1982)—4
1989 CD reissue: same as 1982, plus 4 extra tracks
John Lennon Lennon Legend: The Very Best of John Lennon (1997)—4
John Lennon Working Class Hero: The Definitive Lennon (2005)—4

John Lennon 9: Double Fantasy

History is a funny thing. Certain events have different resonance in hindsight than they might have on initial impact. Such is the case with Double Fantasy; we would venture most people didn’t get to hear this album until after John was dead, by which time he’d been elevated to messianic status. But in those short weeks (in hindsight) between the announcement that John was recording and the first single, the anticipation was unbearable. What would he sound like after five long, silent years? And did we really want to hear what Yoko had to say?

“(Just Like) Starting Over” was big news on its very first radio airplay; it’s good old rock ‘n roll, with just enough affection to make it obvious it’s for Yoko. The flip, “Kiss Kiss Kiss”, features Yoko yelling about something for two minutes, then we have two Yokos climaxing in stereo. The rest of the album continues in this pseudo-dialogue fashion. They kept telling the press how the album was a testimony to their love, but when you really look at the lyrics it’s apparent that living in the Dakota wasn’t the same as living in Utopia. “Clean Up Time” helps with the househusband mythology, plus it’s a kick to have the Lewis Carroll references back after all those years. “Give Me Something”, like most of Yoko’s tunes on this LP, dates back to the Lost Weekend; this one is mercifully short, but displays her influence on punk bands, which some think is a good thing. “I’m Losing You” is incredibly real and aching; this is the one that got the FM exposure after the softer rock of the first singles. It segues neatly into Yoko’s harsh “I’m Moving On” response; this pairing makes you look again at the cover photo where the kiss seems so genuine—almost as genuine as the love song to Sean in “Beautiful Boy”. The steel drums are a nice echo of Bermuda, where it was written. And the waves take us away.

Side two starts with “Watching The Wheels”, with its jaunty piano. There’s a slight air of melancholy while John’s telling us how happy he’s been “no longer riding on the merry-go-round.” There’s an audio-verité stroll into “I’m Your Angel”, which would have been mostly harmless had it not been “Makin’ Whoopee” with different lyrics. “Woman” was a perfect choice for the next single, chiming guitars and all. The harmonies at the end are sublime, and it’s not at all confined to his experience. “Beautiful Boys” (notice Yoko’s title is in the plural) is a scary little number, most likely written as a response to John’s other song. While “Starting Over” echoed Roy Orbison, “Dear Yoko” has a Buddy Holly hiccup that’s blindsided by the obsessive lyrics. The universality of “Woman” unfortunately hasn’t translated here. The song is essential to the story, but ineffective and downright embarrassing as a song to the point where the last two songs, both Yoko’s, are superior.

Upon release, Double Fantasy was nice to have, and certainly not awful, but just pleasant in the same way as Mind Games was. At the time, we assumed there would be lots more now that John was back, so we were willing to wait. At the time, life was different. But life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. The album’s place in history is chained to the events soon after its release, so unfortunately this was his epitaph. Would he have wanted us to think these were the last thoughts on his mind? We’ll never know.

In time other songs from the sessions would be revealed, which will be discussed in the proper context. But time has only reinforced the album’s status as his last living musical statement, and one that gets more attention today than it might have otherwise. As one of the first of the new remasters, the 2000 CD adds Yoko’s “Walking On Thin Ice” as mixed on December 8, a piano demo of John’s “Help Me To Help Myself” and some audio called “Central Park Stroll”, which only reinforces the feelings of futility and finality. Then, in time for what would have been his 70th birthday, Yoko authorized an expanded set called Double Fantasy Stripped Down, which paired the original fourteen tracks with a drastically remixed version of the same songs to emphasize his voice. Some studio banter makes it more of an interesting listen, but Yoko’s songs also get the same treatment, so buyer beware.

John Lennon & Yoko Ono Double Fantasy (1980)—3½
2000 reissue: same as 1980, plus 3 extra tracks
2010 Stripped Down version: same as 1980, plus 14 extra tracks

John Lennon 8: Shaved Fish

John had made some mutterings about a new album in 1975, 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

John Lennon 7: Rock ‘N’ Roll

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 a 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

John Lennon 6: Walls And Bridges

Maybe one needs personal turmoil to create fine art after all. While Walls And Bridges was the first effort by John in years that didn’t have Yoko’s direct involvement, that’s not to say she had no influence on it. These are songs from the gut, the aftermath of an alcoholic bender, alternately anguished and angry. (An aborted oldies project with Phil Spector was part of the turmoil.)

“Going Down On Love” starts off in a similar way to “I Found Out” (from Plastic Ono Band) in the way the voice sings along with the guitar. While it’s got several sections seemingly stuck together, for the most part they succeed, especially “somebody please please please help me”. “Whatever Gets You Thru The Night” is the mindless single, where John’s voice meshes perfectly with Elton John’s and one begins to get really tired of saxophones. “Old Dirt Road” was written with Harry Nilsson but is very similar to an oldie called “Cool Clear Water”; it’s very pretty, especially Jesse Ed Davis’s underwater guitar and the Nicky Hopkins piano, whatever it’s about. “What You Got” is fairly straightforward, but all the funk unfortunately adds to the dated sound of the album today. “Bless You” is incredibly gracious towards the woman who left him all alone, right down to the very subtle switch in the third verse that refers to her new lover. This tone of resigned acceptance is crushed by the howling that starts off “Scared”, a thoroughly frightening tune that also recalls Plastic Ono Band with its pounding, unrelenting piano.

“#9 Dream” starts off side two, and is one of his best. Its dreamy quality is very close to “Strawberry Fields”, but this is a pleasant sleep as opposed to a nightmare. “Surprise Surprise (Sweet Bird Of Paradox)” was supposedly inspired by his newfound bachelorhood. The cowbell and especially the “sweet-sweet” at the fade bring to mind “Drive My Car”. “Steel And Glass” seeps up from the sewer much like the subject of the song (allegedly latter-day Beatle manager Allen Klein). The verses are great and nasty, but what exactly does “steel and glass” refer to? Office buildings? The production is suitably eerie, with Jesse Ed’s gurgling guitar and all. “Beef Jerky” is a full-fledged but anticlimactic instrumental, related to “Meat City” from the last album with its occasional tempo twists and turns. John didn’t do instrumentals often, and this is why. “Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down And Out)” is another example of how he could take the simplest chords and make complete unique statements around them. (This tune should prove to the critics that his songs don’t only apply to himself; after all, it’s true, everybody does love you when you’re six foot in the ground.) He whistles his way off under the streetlamps, coat slung over his shoulder. In order to leave us with some levity, the album ends with a short stab at “Ya Ya”, with Julian playing drums badly.

Walls And Bridges is still a satisfying album today, with more meat to it than Mind Games had. He waited until he had something to say, and the result was something of a comeback. It was great to hear he could still write songs, plus his sense of humor is all over the packaging. But outside of two detours through his past, this would be John’s last new album for six years. (The remaster added one live track already available elsewhere, a negligible alternate take and an interview snippet. Yoko also altered the packaging, which took the cover even further away from the clever fold-out aspects of the original LP jacket. 2010’s Signature Edition rectified this somewhat, albeit without any extra tracks.)

John Lennon Walls And Bridges (1974)—3½
2005 remaster: same as 1974, plus 3 extra tracks

John Lennon 5: Mind Games

After the political nonsense of the previous year, Mind Games was a step back to melodies and tunefulness, but once you paid attention it seemed as if John was also running out of steam. There are great tunes and catchy numbers on this album, but it seems kinda ordinary, which is one of the last adjectives one would use to describe John Lennon.

The title track still has a soaring quality that makes it a great track to this day. (That’s not an orchestra, it’s just a bunch of guys! But they sound so big…) Had he ever toured again, this would have been a showstopper. “Tight A$” is boogie with nothing else to hold it up, which unfortunately doesn’t pass for art. This would not be the only example of water-treading on this album. “Aisumasen (I’m Sorry)” has some interesting chord changes and a cool arrangement, but lines like “all that I know is just what you tell me” come off more pathetic than romantic. It’s heartfelt, but much too Yoko-centric for mass enjoyment. “One Day (At A Time)” is a good example of why John shouldn’t sing falsetto for an entire song; perhaps he was going for a Stylistics feel on this? Whatever the motivation, it grates. “Bring On The Lucie (Freda Peeple)” is a lot of fun, before you realize how maddeningly repetitive it is. And it seems pointless to spend more than three seconds on the side closer. (That’s an in-joke.)

Side two starts off with as close as a potboiler as we’ll get, the funky “Intuition”, showing John was listening to the radio from time to time. This would have been another good choice for a single, or even one for Ringo to cover. “Out The Blue” is the best on the album next to “Mind Games”, mostly because of the clever chord changes, but also because of the bare honesty in the lyrics and delivery. “Only People” is harmless if lightweight; a whole lotta so what with too much “right on, brother”. It’s much improved by the John Denverisms of “I Know (I Know)” (that’s not meant as a bad thing), yet by this point it’s become tiresome to hear John apologize to Yoko continuously. This tune has some fantastic folky harmonies right off of Rubber Soul. He may have lost the passion, but his craftsmanship is strongly in evidence on this underrated song. While the title track was an extension of the unfinished “Make Love Not War”, “You Are Here” takes another old slogan and adds an “East is East” sentiment to it, but it just doesn’t lift itself up at all. “Meat City” is a rocking way to blow out the album, which, now that you can look back on it, doesn’t say much, does it?

Mind Games is not a bad album; it just isn’t as great as Plastic Ono Band or Imagine. Many of these songs seem slight because they are merely pleasant, when his earlier work, while still incredibly personal, was more moving. Luckily his voice is as good as ever, and even the slimmest songs benefit from it. This was the best he could come up with at the time; meanwhile Yoko had become incredibly prolific, having completed two albums—one of them a double—since Some Time In New York City, and apparently getting tired of him. Once his album was mastered, he scampered off to the West Coast for an adventure with Phil Spector.

The 2002 reissue brought out sonic surprises in the mix, a lot more exciting than the demos tacked at the end. At least there were a few drawings in the booklet we hadn’t seen before. When the Ultimate Collection of the album arrived a year after its 50th anniversary—after skipping Some Time In New York City, likely because people would have been up in arms over the title of that album’s lead track—box producer Sean Lennon took the album title literally.

Following the template of the Plastic Ono Band and Imagine sets, the 12 tracks—yes, even “Nutopian International Anthem”—were presented six different ways in the Deluxe Edition, four of those simply variations on the same source. The Ultimate Mixes widened the original mixes somewhat, giving the tracks room to breathe and generally an improvement, though we wonder what happened to the sax at the end of “One Day (At A Time)”. The Elemental Mixes were stripped down to favor John’s voice, while the Elements Mixes focused on isolated instruments, generally omitting the drums in the former case, highlighting keyboards or Sneaky Pete on pedal steel in both. We can also appreciate Gordon Edwards’ bass that much more, and enjoy the reggae influence on “Intuition”. The Raw Studio Mixes purported to present the takes without embellishment, but only a few were extended past their familiar fades. The customary Evolution Documentaries presented journeys from demos to final masters, and the Outtakes were just that. (A two-CD version consisted of the Ultimate Mixes and the Outtakes.)

Most of the fanfare went toward the Super Deluxe Box, a giant Perspex cube that offered everything from the six-CD-two-Blu-ray package along with all the stated music on vinyl, reproductions of vintage John and/or Yoko art pieces, and a variety of puzzles each requiring unique solutions to find any hidden content within. In addition to being extremely limited and extremely expensive, it became a deterrent for those of us who wanted the extra music we’d come to expect by now, such as standalone demos (previously released or otherwise, such as the tantalizing peek at a very different “You Are Here” in that Evolution Documentary) and key adjacent tracks like “I’m The Greatest” and “Rock ‘N Roll People”. Those two were included as Ultimate Mixes, as was the single version of “Meat City”, but they weren’t prominently labeled. Mind games indeed.

John Lennon Mind Games (1973)—3
2002 CD reissue: same as 1973, plus 3 extra tracks
2024 The Ultimate Collection: “same” as 1973, plus 60 extra tracks (and 2 Blu-ray discs)

John Lennon 4: Some Time In New York City

Just as Paul was trying his fans’ patience, John seemed to lose the plot around the same time. Some Time In New York City was lambasted when it came out, and if one doesn’t know the events behind some of the lyrics, they may seem confusing. (Come to think of it, even after researching the events, they still seem pretty pointless.) There was a lot going on in the world in 1972, so John took some of his pet peeves and beat them into the ground for forty minutes, alternating vocals with Yoko.

For starters, “Woman Is The Nigger Of The World”, which not only opens the album but was issued as a single, was banned from airplay for the title alone. (This perhaps drove the point home even further, which was that while John’s new radical friends may have wanted freedom of expression, he noticed that didn’t necessarily apply to their old ladies.) “Sisters O Sisters” is pleasant reggae, with a charming if silly vocal by Yoko. “Attica State” is an angry rocker with both Lennons yelling along. “Born In A Prison” isn’t about to convert anyone into thinking Yoko’s a poet, but the bridge has a nice melody with John joining in. “New York City” is an updated “Ballad of John And Yoko” and the album’s most successful snapshot; had it been the single it might have helped sell the album.

“Sunday Bloody Sunday” actually has some passion to it, for it got John’s Irish up; this continues on the slightly softer “Luck Of The Irish” which still gets played every St. Patrick’s Day on certain FM radio stations. “John Sinclair” is fun if only for trying to keep up with every “gotta” in the chorus. Despite a tender melody and stirring arrangement, “Angela” doesn’t approach its potential. (Perhaps if the lyrics had been about something other than a revolutionary figure most people don’t remember three decades on…) Yoko drags it all home against its will with “We’re All Water”, further proof that not all poetry makes good songs and not all sentences make good poetry.

But wait! There’s more! You paid for it, so you might as well listen to the second disc. Technically a separate entity, Live Jam was included in the package with a dollar added to the regular list price. (John initially wanted to issue it on its own, and thankfully, smarter heads prevailed.) Starting with the “long-awaited” Plastic Ono Supergroup performance from December of 1969, any excitement at hearing two Beatles (George was in there somewhere) live on stage together for the first time in years is trampled by the plodding version of “Cold Turkey” and the relentless horror of “Don’t Worry Kyoko”.

The other side, recorded at the Fillmore East in June 1971 with Frank Zappa and the Mothers, starts out promisingly with “Well (Baby Please Don’t Go)”, but degenerates into more shenanigans that perhaps should have been left inside a bag and not miked. Once you’ve studied Zappa a little more it’s interesting to hear what Yoko does all over “King Kong”; then your opinion is affected by how much you liked the Flo & Eddie era. (An alternate mix of the same material prepared by Zappa surfaced in 1992, with such telling titles as “A Small Eternity With Yoko Ono”.) If you don’t listen to side two of the Toronto LP that much, you probably won’t go back to this either. Whatever impact the first disc may have had is irreparably blemished by the load of crap on the second.

Lyrically challenging and musically frustrating, the only upside of the whole affair was that John played a few live shows with backing band Elephant’s Memory. But otherwise he retreated to Greenwich Village, scared of what the government was doing to him.

The album was remastered and reissued in 2005 on a single disc, which cut all of the Zappa material save “Well”, but added both sides of the “Happy Xmas” single, which almost made sense in chronological context. The 2010 Signature edition restored the full two-LP lineup, yet relied on anachronistic photos for the inner packaging. A so-called Ultimate Edition was teased in 2022, following the expansions of Imagine and Plastic Ono Band, but didn’t happen, likely due to the ongoing discomfort over That Word in the opening track.

John & Yoko/Plastic Ono Band Some Time In New York City (1972)—1½
2005 remaster: same as 1972, plus 2 extra tracks (and minus 3 original tracks)

John Lennon 3: Imagine

John called this album “‘Working Class Hero’ with sugar on it” in response to those who found it “nicer” (read: “better”) than the previous year’s stark and harsh Plastic Ono Band. The most overt difference between the two is simply the production, or more specifically, the strings. Overall he’s just as angry at the world on Imagine, and just as insecure about his identity.

The title track sets the tone for the rest of the album right away, and despite its radio saturation, it remains a lovely song to this day. (And he’s not saying there’s no heaven, he’s just suggesting we think about it. He probably knew just how hypocritical it was for a guy in a huge house on a large tract of land to sing about having no possessions. His next abode was a studio apartment in Greenwich Village, if that helps.) “Crippled Inside” is a jaunty little number, complete with George on dobro and good old Nicky Hopkins on piano. “Jealous Guy” is one of his best; the words, the melody, the sentiment all speak to the hopeless romantic in all of us. “It’s So Hard” isn’t that exciting, but it is short. (It was also a B-side, suggesting that even John knew it wasn’t much.) “I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier” was everyone’s least favorite, but its hypnosis can be appealing if given a chance. Phil Spector gets to go all out on the production here, considering what he wasn’t allowed to do on the previous album.

“Gimme Some Truth” is another great example of how John could put seemingly nonsense words together successfully. It’s a good one for shouting along with your fist in the air. “Oh My Love” conjures images of overcast days walking through the woods. Written with Yoko back in ‘68 with different lyrics, this finished version has a lot more going for it, with the guitar arpeggios, gentle piano and finger cymbals. The subject matter notwithstanding, “How Do You Sleep?” is yet another example of how nasty John could get if poked (in this case, by Paul). The strings are sinister, matched by the guitar and electric piano solos (George and Nicky again). This is followed by the tail-between-the-legs “How?” The melody in particular does a nice job of juxtaposing rises and falls, and it could have easily fit onto the previous album. And possibly the best album closer of his or anyone’s career could still be “Oh Yoko!”, such a happy, stupid song you have to smile, as if that harmonica is still playing somewhere for eternity.

Imagine is John at his most commercial without being stuck in its time. With it he had set another standard that he’d chase for the rest of his life. It’s still incredibly honest, pulling no punches and suffering no fools. His solo career was off to great start; besides, Yoko was recording lots of stuff to be released under her own name, so those of us who just wanted to hear his songs were more than happy. But as he’d point out, he wasn’t in it to make us happy.

The album avoided expansion for quite some time, until Yoko picked 2018 as the year to unleash Imagine—The Ultimate Collection. At its most extravagant level, alongside a pricey coffee table book, the set presented four discs celebrating not only the album itself but everything else John released in 1971, including “Power To The People”, “Happy Xmas”, both sides of the Oz magazine charity single, and the in-studio cover of “Well”, months before he performed it with the Mothers. The so-called “ultimate mixes” give the tracks a little wider aural space, while “elements mixes” isolate certain aspects of the final tracks, such as the strings or Nicky Hopkins’ piano. “Raw studio takes” present each track before overdubs of horns, strings, or reverb. A variety of outtakes show the songs under construction; with “Oh Yoko!” being tackled in one take, it’s represented by a Bed-In era demo. Finally, “evolution mixes” present montages of each track’s development, from initial demo where applicable to final touches, with conversation, interview excerpts, and lots of impatient swearing. (Two Blu-ray discs offer all that, in 5.1 surround, plus two more hours’ worth of other outtakes, elements, and evolutions, and the quad mix. A two-CD set simply offered discs one and two of the big box.) All in all, a nice set, though the many variations on “God Save Us” and “Do The Oz” are torturous. And we can marvel that he spent all that time and effort installing a state-of-the-art studio in his home, only to use it for one album before leaving the country for good and selling the house to Ringo.

John Lennon Imagine (1971)—4½
2018 Ultimate Collection: “same” as 1971, plus 51 extra tracks (and 2 Blu-ray discs)

John Lennon 2: Plastic Ono Band

In a period when each Beatle was making his own individual statement, there was still a sense of excited anticipation for John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. Technically it was his fifth solo LP release, but it was his first real solo album—just him and his songs with no Yoko or avant-garde touches. He would tell it like he saw it; plus he’d spent most of the summer screaming therapeutically. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s worth it.

Complete with funeral bells at the start, “Mother” sets the tone for simplicity as John laments the lack of connection he’s felt with his parents, complete with a warning to the “children” who may be listening and following his lead. “Hold On John” is pretty, with the guitar matching the sweet melody. These days it’s no longer jarring to hear him sing his own name as well as Yoko’s. This temporary pick-me-up is pushed aside by the edgy “I Found Out”, its relentless beat bashing away the lies. The irritated “Working Class Hero” laments even more lies, specifically what he was told in school. (This title became a misleading nickname; he’s referring to himself as a hero of the working class, and not including himself in that class. His upbringing was easily the most financially privileged of the Beatles.) The weary “Isolation” sports perhaps the best bridge of John’s songwriting, with a vocal that shows off why they’ve called his the best voice in rock.

If you’re still wondering why he feels the way he does, “Remember” starts off side two to explain it all, complete with explosion. “Love” is another perfect extension of simplicity, and suggests for a brief moment that he may have figured it all out. (That’s Phil Spector on the piano, by the way.) After the musical illustration of Primal Therapy that is “Well Well Well”, “Look At Me”, written in 1968 in India, deflates this idea, suggesting instead that self-examination is never-ending. “God” starts off stately enough, then builds up to the (in)famous litany of all the illusions that let him down; if you look past the intentionally show-stopping declaration “I don’t believe in Beatles”, you’re left with “I just believe in me”, which is helpful advice. (If you want to include the additional “Yoko and me”, that’s your choice.) It straddles the line between a sermon and something we can all appreciate, but in the end it’s all about him, summed up by the simple fact that “My Mummy’s Dead”.

John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band is a true album by definition, for nothing else in his post-Beatle career would be as succinct, cohesive or clear-cut. By keeping it simple—accompanied only by Ringo and Klaus Voormann for the most part—he set the standard for honest songwriting, against which he would be judged long past his death. It’s still a shame everything he learned as preached on this album didn’t make him happy for the rest of his days. But having torn everything else down, he had nothing left to hide behind, leaving only his worst fears—that of exposure and rejection—strongly in evidence. This is still his most powerful statement, and quite a declaration of independence. It also says a lot that despite that “bathroom reverb”, Phil Spector let the songs speak for themselves too, and kept the production to the minimum.

The 2000 reissue CD sported questionable mixing variants, and while the inclusion of the early 1971 single “Power To The People” made sense, there was no reason to have the hideous “Do The Oz”, a later B-side. Luckily, these were ignored for 2021’s Ultimate Collection, likely intended for the album’s 50th anniversary and just as likely delayed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Following the template of the Imagine expansion, this massive set serves up new “ultimate” mixes of the album, as well as a disc of outtakes, raw studio mixes, elements mixes that hone in on different parts of the recording, demos (or at least the earliest versions of the songs), and a collection of between-the-takes jams, all on six CDs. Equal attention is paid throughout to “Give Peace A Chance”, “Cold Turkey”, and “Instant Karma!”, while surround and Atmos mixes of all of the above and more were included on two Blu-ray discs, along with the complete live session that spawned the Yoko Ono/Plastic Ono Band album. (It’s probably just as well that these didn’t take up an entire CD, but it must be said that no matter your opinion of Yoko’s contributions, Ringo and Klaus were a stellar rhythm section, and they excel when backing her up. Definitely worth exploring.)

Some of this material had been glimpsed via other archival projects, but while it’s not a strict chronological journey through the sessions, we get more context and insight. Despite the overall tone of the finished album, now we can hear the energy and, yes, joy that went into recording it, with enthusiastic performances and feedback from Klaus and Ringo. George Harrison’s contribution to “Instant Karma!” is brought to the fore, and they nicely include his surprise appearance on John’s birthday during one of the takes for “Remember”. John himself giggles through most of the jams and even some of the breakdowns, but for contrast, the isolated vocal track for “Mother” causes greater chills than ever before. The repetition may deter first-time listeners, but longtime fans will relish it. (Those not willing to go whole hog could limit themselves to a two-disc version consisting of the first two designated discs in the set: the ultimate mix and the outtakes. But if you’re in, you’re in.)

John Lennon John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (1970)—4½
2000 remaster: same as 1970, plus 2 extra tracks
2021 Ultimate Collection: “same” as 1970, plus 92 extra tracks (and 2 Blu-ray discs)

John Lennon 1: Live Peace In Toronto

After three albums of “unfinished music”, Live Peace In Toronto was the first of John’s “journalistic phonographic” endeavors to appeal to his mass audience, simply because—compared to his other experiments on wax with Yoko—it was the first LP that contained music remotely similar to that heard on Beatles LPs. It is truly a snapshot of a moment in time; the band rehearsed on the plane to Toronto, and how he got Eric Clapton to play lead guitar is still one of rock’s great mysteries.

Being part of a ‘50s revival concert, it only makes sense that John starts off with “Blue Suede Shoes”, “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” and “Money”. He kept it simple and sounds happy, if nervous. “Yer Blues” works, being the only song John had previously performed in front of an audience since 1966 (at the Rolling Stones Rock And Roll Circus, with Clapton in tow). “Cold Turkey” sounds a bit tentative compared to the single version which hadn’t even been recorded yet, and he wraps it all up with “Give Peace A Chance”, not even bothering to duplicate the original lyrics, though Clapton does get to sing backup.

Then Yoko steps to the front “to do her thing all over you”; it’s a safe bet most owners of this LP rarely played side two after the first purchase. She shrieks over bludgeoning riffs and feedback, a performance that’s much more interesting to watch than it is to listen to; by the end you can see John glare at the crowd while Yoko continues to scream.

The recording itself is pretty hot, and John’s nervous energy keeps the listener riveted. It’s much too short, of course, but it’s still pretty cool that it exists at all. John and Yoko had already decided that their every move be documented, but hadn’t figured out what constituted “newsworthy” or could potentially embarrass them. (Case in point: The calendar, included in the first LP pressing and reproduced in the CD booklet, contains some unique pictures and captions, but also sports one uncomfortable close-up of the couple’s puffy, smack-addled faces.)

Basically, they came, saw and conquered, and Apple finally had a solo Beatle LP go top 10. In John’s case, the fourth time was the charm. (We can’t stress this enough: if you’re looking for melodies, you really needn’t bother with Two Virgins, Life With The Lions, or Wedding Album. If you want unlistenable albums in your collection to impress your friends, then go right ahead. You’ve been warned.)

The Plastic Ono Band Live Peace In Toronto (1969)—3½